Fan Fiction ❯ Shielded in Broken Armours ❯ Part 2: Dance of the Dragons ( Chapter 12 )
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 11.30.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.6K | Visits: 165 | Status: Completed
by Alice Montrose
completed July 31, 2004
Chapter Twelve
Marzio made it to the Great Hall early that afternoon. He had found what he was looking for, but both the library and the huge training hall had been empty. One of the few guards he had encountered had told him that, because of the great mass of people that had come there that day, security had been reinforced in the Hall and everybody was on alert. But the woman had assured him that he would find plenty of people in the training hall at any time of the day, and the library staff would be more than happy to assist him. On a normal day, and she had emphasised those words.
He understood, and continued his walk around the many corridors, getting a general feeling of the place. Even without a plan, he knew he would not get lost. The palace was built in such a way that a good soldier would have no problem with orientation. And all the corridors seemed to meet in one place, which had to be the hall both Ignis and the guard had mentioned to him - and the one they had been received in upon their arrival in Aquiline. So he had decided to go take a look.
Luckily, he was on the ground floor. The place was crowded with people, and all the balconies on the two upper levels seemed packed. He saw soldiers everywhere, not just the Palace Guard but also Ignis' Personal Guard - which made perfect sense, of course, and Ignis would probably want Tempesta there as well.
The four guards stationed at the massive door nodded as he passed, and one - which he recognized from earlier that morning - pulled him aside to show him a half-hidden niche on the right. It provided easier access, he said, and since it was slightly elevated it would allow him to see above the crowd. "No use getting cramped with all these people. It's already getting hot in here."
"Why are you being so kind to me?" he found himself whispering to them man. "I am..."
The man laughed. "I know who you are, General Zain-Reil," he said. "His Highness likes you and you make a good impression. So unless you're looking for trouble, you're more than welcome to watch." He opened the door that kept the niche from being taken over by unwanted visitors, let Marzio in and closed it back after him. He winked. "Just knock when you're done, and we'll let you out."
He nodded, turned away from the door and continued down the narrow path, occasionally bowing to the people standing there in groups of two or three. All looked like nobles, and most of them were young. They didn't even give him a second glance as he passed, being concerned with what was happening in the hall.
He finally found an excellent spot for observation, and looked past the sea of people at the throne Ignis occupied.
A brilliant man, he decided. The guards did not allow anyone come closer than fifty paces from the dais, and all the people that took part in the trial, either as accused or defenders, were separated from the rest. Even four hours after the trial had begun, there were many left, he noticed, and Ignis would probably take his time with all of them. That meant the prince would probably be too tired to actually come and see him that night; but Marzio knew he would not blame the young man for it.
He was not really curious about the legal procedures, but about who would actually be present there. He could see Tempesta standing behind the throne, and Owen and a few other officers moving around the room overseeing security. There were also several figures in the crowd that looked very much like guards dressed in civilian clothes to his experienced eye. Nevertheless, the people acted more civilised than he had anticipated.
A couple of older men and women in fine clothes were seated close to the throne, and since Ignis consulted with them occasionally Marzio concluded they must be his advisors. Lord Lucifer was among them, of course, but he did not sit right next to the throne as one would have expected.
He spotted Lord Kelan and his three companions somewhere on a balcony, and was surprised they had come at all. But they must have been as curious as he had been, and this was a good place to plot as any. There were also Angelians in the crowd, and he concluded they must have been some of the merchants the Demon major had mentioned to him upon their arrival. Some had darker skin, and he also saw some Demons with fair skin or blonde hair.
"Half-breeds?" he wondered. He knew they existed, naturally, but he had never seen any outside the territory of the Mauri Confederation. Angelia was very strict when it came to maintaining a 'pure' race, which if one would ask him was bullshit. But there was nothing he could do about it.
A friendly chuckle took him out of his thoughts. "Isn't it amazing? Back in Angelia, they would never be allowed to live."
Deep in thought, Marzio had not noticed anyone approach him. He turned to his left to see a pair of pale blue eyes studying him with disarming sincerity. They belonged to an elderly man, dressed in long white robes that covered most of his body, but could not hide the fair hair and broad white wings.
Marzio froze into place. He knew this man; he had seen him at least a dozen times seated at his uncle's table.
"Lord Tanis...?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if his eyes did not deceive him.
The man smiled politely. "Fancy meeting you here, Marzio Zain-Reil." He offered his hand. "I am sorry if I startled you. Prince Sagni-Dor said I might run into you one of these days, but I was rather expecting to meet you in the library."
Still not sure of what was happening, Marzio shook the older man's hand. The voice was just as he remembered it, and the secure handshake...
But this man was supposed to be dead!
Tanis Seer-Neis, Duke of Apheion, had been one of the most illustrious strategists and politicians Angelia had ever had. He had also been a good friend of his family's, and had even taught Marzio Court etiquette, of all things. Yet the general was sure he had seen him killed nine years ago. He had seen him fall, his body dragged through half the battle field. He had been declared dead, and there were enough eye witnesses to certify that.
Marzio blinked a few times, trying to make sure he was not seeing things. The man was still there, still solid, and seemed a little amused at Marzio's unhidden shock. "I take it you were not informed I was living here," he concluded finally.
"I was not informed you were alive," Marzio corrected, and the man laughed warmly.
"So our dear prince is back at his old tricks. That is very good news, indeed."
Did the man mean Ignis? Was this the surprise he had mentioned earlier that day? Knowing Ignis, it was probably so.
Lord Tanis - for he was now sure the man was truly Lord Tanis - kept smiling at him. "It has been a long time since we have seen each other, Marzio. I must confess you look more and more like your father."
"Excuse me, but... how?"
The older Angelian replied indulgingly, "How did I get here? How come I am still alive? That, my young friend, is a long story. And I do not want to keep you from any plans you might have."
"Can I get the short version, at least?" The general was hesitant; of all the persons he had imagined as traitors, this man was the least likely he had expected. The duke had been a respected man in Angelia, and had no reason to betray his country and cross to the other side.
"You worry too much, Marzio," Tanis told him. He crossed his hands on the wooden stall that separated the niche from the hall and kept smiling. "I bet I know what bothers you, as well. But I have not betrayed my people.
"As you know, I was seriously injured in battle nine years ago. When I regained consciousness, I was in a dungeon with Demons as my guards. They considered me an important hostage, and tried to get as much information out of me as they could. But I did not reveal anything.
"Finding out about this, Prince Nicolas - Ignis' father, that is - summoned me. He said that he admired my strength and devotion to my country. He offered me a deal: I would become his son's tutor for four years, and in exchange I would be offered my freedom. I would also have access to all the documents I considered necessary, and the opportunity to study Demon culture and civilisation for half a year before my lessons with the prince began.
"Naturally, I accepted. It was the perfect opportunity to gather more information on the enemy, which could prove useful to us once I returned to Angelia. But, at the time, I did not know what would lay. After six months spent mostly in the Palace Library, I was sent away to a place I had only heard about, the Monastery of Dreak, to meet the Prince Heir.
"As far as I knew, I was the only foreigner that was allowed to go there, by special permission of the Prince. For the Prince Heir had refused to return home after the first four years of training, as it had been expected. So I had to go there and teach him.
"I still remember my first meeting with him - I was so impressed by the young Heir and his outlook on things. He was always one step ahead of his peers, it seemed; and he was more intelligent that anyone I had met up to that point. We have learned a lot from one another; and when the time of my release came, I refused to return home. I realized that I had fallen in love with this country and its people."
Marzio was not surprised to hear this; he felt the same thing, and it had nothing to do with his love for Ignis. "They are so different, and yet not hard to understand if you truly want to."
Tanis smiled. "In spite of what we Angelians say, their culture is far more advanced than ours. It is what bothers us, the reason we call them barbarians. But no person in its right mind would deny it."
"So you remained here, and became a scholar, in spite of your family's grief."
"Grief? Ha! My wife probably gave a large ball in honour of my passing," Tanis said bitterly. "In a way, Ignis is my son more than my own children ever were. And home is where you find happiness."
That gave Marzio something to think about. He had not been there for too long, but it felt like he could spend the rest of his days in that country without anyone asking anything about it.
"It is different," he admitted. "Different from what I was raised to believe in. And it beckons to me. But I cannot stay here, I cannot hide."
Tanis nodded sadly. "You are right, I guess I am hiding. But I was older than you when I was brought to Aquiline, and I did not have your strength, or a powerful guardian to ensure my safety." He looked down at the people gathered in the hall, and then at Ignis. "He trusts you, Marzio. I can see it in his eyes when he speaks of you. Don't you dare let him down, you hear me!"
One look at the figure on the throne, and Marzio's heartbeat quickened. "I would never dream of it."
The old man closed his eyes and gripped the wooden rail for support. He looked like he would fall, and Marzio almost jumped to keep that from happening. But the Angelian recovered just as fast.
"I am getting too old for this," he told Marzio, breathing deeply. "And I believe it is time for me to return to my studies. Do come by the library some time, though - we can talk more. You can tell me what King Teh-Kai is up to these days."
"I will," the general promised. "I still have questions about Demonis that need an answer. And about Ignis, too."
Tanis smiled again. "Those, my friend, you must ask him directly. He is not particularly pleased with people gossiping about him." Then he added low enough not to be overheard, "One thing I can tell you, though. He does not do politics..."
"... in the bedroom, I know. General Neri-Lokh already warned me about that."
The Angelian duke turned Demon scholar nodded knowingly. "Then she has seen it too. At any rate, now that you like each other you absolutely have to ask him to take you into the city himself. He'd never refuse you the favour, and he needs a few hours of freedom."
Marzio agreed and watched Tanis take his leave, sighing in relief when the man got out of sight. Keeping things from him would be just as difficult as keeping them from Ignis' other good-willed friends.
Fresh morning air filled the palace corridors, as Marzio made his way toward the training hall. The chill was invigorating, and the Angelian was inexplicably excited at the prospect of demonstrating his skills to the Demons. One month ago, he would have never have though about it, let alone go through with it; but now, he was feeling a new person.
He wondered briefly if Ignis would be up as well. If he truly did not miss training often, it was likely they would meet up in the training hall. Still, the young prince had been worn out the previous night, so there was the possibility of him still resting; and Marzio had not been able to check, on account of the three guards stationed in the hallway.
As he approached the training hall, he could already hear voices and the clashing of metal. Leaving the entryway behind, he was overwhelmed by the familiar scent of sweat and the noises he treasured, of men - and women, in this case - training in an enclosed space. The hall was now bursting with activity, unlike the deserted view that had met him the other day.
The hall was rectangular and conceived in such a manner that it gave the impression of an out-of-doors facility. A small gallery surrounded the oval training ring, which was spacious and covered in a thick layer of sand. Many of those present at that hour were gathered around the small palisade going round the gallery as they watched those that were already sparring in the ring, cheering loudly every now and then.
Because of this, Marzio had no view of those inside the ring. However, he saw a couple of familiar faces, including Meris Owen, caught in conversation close by. He approached with the intention of asking the Dreak officer to partner him that morning, lightly tapping the Demon on the shoulder to let him know he was there.
Just as the captain turned and smiled in acknowledgement, a strong voice Marzio immediately identified ordered, "Switch!"
The Angelian grinned. It seemed he would see Ignis that morning after all.
Sensing his interest, Owen took one step sideways to offer him a clear view of the ring. Marzio leaned his elbows on the wooden palisade of the enclosure, and studied the fighters with great interest.
Ignis was inside with three other fighters, but fought only one of them; the others were content to watch, jumping out of the way if necessary. However, the sweat on their bodies indicated that they had had their turn. The prince, shirtless and sweaty himself, was sparring with a man of solid build that clearly outweighed him, but he did so with a skill the Angelian had rarely encountered.
"Does he do this every morning?" Marzio asked Owen, who had abandoned the conversation in favour of observing the fight together with him.
"Mostly," the Dreak smirked. "But you've missed most of it. He's been at it for half an hour now."
It was a decent period of time for any good warrior, but what impressed the general was that Ignis showed no sigh of fatigue; quite the contrary, he seemed as relaxed as if he were taking a stroll through the park around the palace.
Marzio watched as the Demon prince sent his adversary down with one strong blow. Again, he shouted "Switch!" and one of the two that had stood by watching took the fallen man's place. The sturdy guard got up and made his way towards the gallery, a little out of breath.
"How long does he usually last?"
Owen watched with vague indifference, and did not turn as he replied. "It depends. Usually he only spars for an hour or so, though he hardly pulls out all his energy just for training. Unless he's fighting a Dreak; then he gives his best no matter what. If you ever get to see that, you shall notice it is a very elaborate duel."
Marzio got an idea. "Perhaps the two of you could show me?"
"Hmm... I'm not really in the mood for doing any back flips just for fun this morning, but Tempesta might be interested. If I can find her, that is." Something caught his eye and he turned towards the ring. "Watch this," he told Marzio.
The general decided there was something familiar in the fighting technique he witnessed now, though he could not determine what that was. Something about the way Ignis handled his sword and about the way in which he moved, at any rate.
Glancing along the opposite side of the ring, he noticed several persons who had not come there for practice. It was most evident in their clothing, which was all brocade and jewelled finery. Nobles, he decided with a hint of surprise. One of the women caught his attention; not because she was prettier than the other or anything. But while the others were whispering among themselves paying little attention to the ring, she was studying Ignis just as closely as Marzio did, drinking in his every move. Her features were familiar, too, though he was sure he had not met her before.
He frowned, not liking the way she looked at the prince. It was the same predatory glance the general had received several times from those who had wanted him for themselves, a certain fixation that was hard to shake off.
He was about to ask Owen who she was when a startled cry made him revert his attention to the ring just in time to watch Ignis send his adversary, now disarmed, flying on the ground with a well-placed leg kick. 'That must be the back flip,' he mused, as the prince picked up the practice blade the guard had dropped. "That's enough for today," he said as he helped the woman stand. Waving one hand in recognition, he made his way to where Marzio and Owen were, a radiating smile on his lips.
"I was expecting you here one day or the other," he told Marzio, throwing him one of the swords. "Were you planning on joining us for training?"
The Angelian caught the blade and swung it a little, testing its sturdiness. "It was the general plan. If you would have me, Your Highness," he added with a low bow, which made several people, including Ignis, chuckle. Across the field, the woman that had been watching the fight had disappeared.
"Any impressions so far?"
"Several. Your fighting technique... I have seen it before, but I cannot tell where," Marzio confessed.
"Care to give him a hand?" the prince winked at Owen, who nodded.
"Perhaps because Ignis is the man you fought during the battle on the Mauri," the captain suggested amiably.
Marzio's jaw went slack, but he recovered fast enough. "Well, that should make sense. Though you obviously forgot to mention it before," he reproached the prince.
The red-haired Demon blinked, and a short laugh escaped his lips. "I thought you already suspected it. Oh, never mind! Come along, now. I challenge you!"
The general looked at him, a little surprised. "Are you sure? I mean, are you not tired or anything?"
"I took you down once; I think I can repeat that performance. Or perhaps you do not want a rematch?"
And how could Marzio refuse him? Though he sincerely doubted he could defeat him, being considerably out of practice. Perhaps when he had regained his full potential, they would be standing on equal ground. Still, he had a few tricks that could work in his advantage if necessary, without seriously harming Ignis.
"Very well. A rematch it is!"
Ignis grinned as he watched Marzio jump over the palisade to join him in the ring. "I would lose the shirt, if I were you," he told the general. Then he asked for silence, and made his way towards the centre.
Marzio heeded his advice, then followed suite. It was not like he was ashamed with his own body, right? And it would also offer his new-found lover some distraction... Well, he would have the same problem, to say the truth, as memories of their night together invaded his mind.
He treaded on the thick layer of sand which served to protect the fighters from severe impact with the ground underneath. He took position in front of Ignis, grinning. Dreak or no Dreak, he would give him the challenge he wanted.
Soon they were moving together in a deathly dance, only the cling of metal accompanying their moves. They were both exquisite swordsmen and would not easily give in to the other. The duel was balanced, and it gave Marzio a reassuring feeling. This was different from a real battle - it was not about life and death, but rather about honour and about which of them had the better skills. And Ignis was, by all means, the perfect opponent, reading his moves as Marzio did the same, fully dedicated to their game, at ease with their bodies. If the Demon felt any tiredness from his earlier training, he did not show it. And while at first Marzio had felt like he was having the upper hand, now the situation seemed equilibrated.
Marzio's tricks did not work, though. Ignis either found a way to parry this or that stroke, or simply stepped out of the Angelian's range if he felt he could not make it. And there was a constant shadow of a smile on his lips, something not even the hard blows could wash away.
The Angelian felt like they could go on like that forever. It had become more than a duel - it was a kind of lovemaking in itself, without them ever achieving body contact. Each strike, one touch; each parry, one kiss. It made him feel strange, losing contact with the rest of the world so much it was just him and Ignis moving around each other in an endless dance whose moves they alone decided.
And then, Ignis broke the circle. One strong blow made Marzio's blade fly all the way to the other side of the ring, and Ignis' weapon was fixed in front of him, touching his chest right where his heart was. The prince's smile never wavered, his breath heavy and his eyes burning with passion as he waited for Marzio to yield.
"Do you surrender?" he asked for all to hear, yet knowing fully well this was not a real defeat for the Angelian.
"I do," Marzio confirmed, still caught in the web they had sewn about themselves.
Ignis nodded once, then lowered his sword and let it fall on the sand. He gripped Marzio's shoulder in what might have looked like a friendly gesture, yet the pressure was a little too strong for that. Reassurance, Marzio realized. Strangely, he did not feel the need for it any more.
"You did well," the red-haired Demon whispered; then louder, "It seems to me you are a little out of shape, my friend."
Marzio swore lightly, trying to contain the sudden desire to hug his lover and kiss him deeply. He knew what those last words meant to all gathered there. If the Demon monarch had called him 'friend' in front of all these people, then he would damn well be treated as such and considered their equal. Word would undoubtedly spread, and he would no longer be an unwelcome intruder in their midst.
But Ignis felt the need to do more than that. Not letting go of his shoulder, he guided him back towards the gallery, where Owen watched him with a new-found respect. The captain seemed genuinely surprised about something, and Marzio longed to find out what that was.
"Captain," the prince said in that solemn voice that made those around him obey without objection, "see that Marzio gets some decent training, will you."
With that, it was done. Being called by his first name in front of so many meant recognition. No one would dare look down at him without risking the prince's wrath.
Captain Alisi-Feit hit his fist to his chest as Ignis bent over and crossed on the other side of the railing. Ignis turned and winked at Marzio, then left without a glance back.
Owen also smiled, his tone reverent. "Well then, Marzio... do you still have enough energy left for some more exercise?"
"I think so. Why do you ask?"
"I have never seen someone other than a Dreak last this long against him at that pace," the captain confessed. "You have made a very good impression on all present. Including myself." He winked again, "On Ignis too, I believe, though he most certainly will not admit to it. He will grant you every wish from now on, rest assured. In fact," he whispered in the general's ear so that the others would not hear him, "he might even make love to you if you ask him nicely."
Marzio forced himself to look outraged. "What is it with you people!?"