Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Skywind ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

 

*I borrowed several jokes from a fantasy novel in this chapter. An update in the story of their choice to the reader that gets the title of the novel right first ;)

 

Chapter 3

 

The city of Cliffbreak was set in the heart of Lantall, the country's capital, center of commerce, fashion, and discontent. It was a city famous for its parties and its battles alike; the people of Cliffbreak at best hot-blooded and at worst - well, not many were alive to describe the citizens of Cliffbreak at their worst.

 

At the heart of this city was a group of young men and women who had control of the city's politics and wealth. Or seemed to.

 

A group of rowdy nobles met regularly in the Dragon Princess Inn, famous for its ale and its violence. That day was no exception, as an explosion of laughter caught the attention of many other patrons.

 

“Really, Doro,” Ravena Tró chided. “How awful of you to say such a thing.”

 

“But it's true!” Dorothy protested, grinning. “I saw it with my own eyes. Our dear friend Aiden entered the Harpies' Lair yesterday evening.”

 

Since all present knew Aiden Clearwater to be a shy, quiet clerk who rarely left the privacy of his own home, this statement was met with some doubt, as the Harpies' Lair was one of the most notorious strip houses in the city. “Just how can you be sure it was Aiden?” one of the others asked.

 

“Maybe Dorothy was on stage last night,” Solo Oberont suggested, provoking another round of laughter.

 

Not offended in the least, Dorothy Catalonia responded with an evil grin that would have shamed one of the demons of the Black Abyss. She reached up to pat her carefully coifed hair with a practiced move, and as she did so her shimmering gold robe fell open to reveal an expanse of skin and much more.

 

She was wearing a transparent gold dress with glitter sewn all over it in strategic spots to give the illusion of decency. The gown was extremely low cut, and clung so tightly that it left little to the imagination. Several jaws fell open at the display.

 

Solo rolled his eyes and leaned toward Ravena, murmuring, “She always has to have the last word.”

 

“I wouldn't say `word' in this case, but I have to agree,” Ravena answered, palpably amused.

 

Dorothy's eyes narrowed in affront, but before a verbal sparring match could be started her eyes flickered beyond the group to the latest entry into the inn, who was handing his finely made dark violet cloak to the door watcher. He was dressed from head to toe in violet, with a beautifully woven dark violet tunic over a shirt of a lighter shade, skin-tight dark violet trousers showing off muscular legs tucked into fashionably slouchy knee-high boots, also dyed a dark violet. A bright purple hat reminiscent of an eastern pirate famous for his sense of fashion complemented the outfit, complete with sweeping white plume. He wore no weapon, but a large jeweled medallion wrought in the emblem of his family was displayed prominently on his chest, and his fingers glinted with several rings.

 

“Duuuuooooo!!” Dorothy squealed, leaping to her feet and dashing to greet Cliffbreak's acknowledged fashion plate. “Oh, it's been forever!”

 

“Dorothy, my lovely!” he answered, catching the sparkling woman easily in a one-armed hug. “My world is bright again!”

 

Dorothy giggled coquetishly. “Oh, you're being silly. Where have you been, Duo? It really has been a while.”

 

“Oh, round and about,” Duo answered lazily, walking over to join the rest of Myrna's companions. “Solo, mate, how's it been?”

 

“Passing, my friend, passing,” Solo answered. He rose and the two men gripped forearms with the gravity of old comrades-in-arms, then fell to with a friendly hug. Solo held his friend out at arms-length and eyed him. “Love the hat, Duo, reminds me of Sandros the Fanciful, but tell me, will you turn another color as you ripen, or are you fit to be plucked now?”

 

The other nobles shouted with laughter as Duo sniffed, highly affronted. “Ripen, indeed. I'll have you know this is the very latest in fashion, Solo. Or at least,” he added with a smirk, “It will be once I'm seen wearing it.”

 

Dorothy draped herself over Duo. “Tell us a story,” she demanded. “You've been away for so long, you must have some good ones. You owe us a tale for being absent from our little group without word for such a length of time.” Several of the ladies present narrowed their eyes in displeasure as Duo did nothing to shift Dorothy out of his personal space.

 

Duo's eyes were sharp enough, however, and not wanting the cattiness in the group to escalate any further than usual, said hastily, “Now really, Doro, I wasn't without word. I met with Solo in Tibec about a month ago, did I not?” he appealed to his friend.

 

Solo gave his friend his due. “You did. And I tried to tell you ladies later, but you were all too busy gossiping about the latest of Duchess Relena's fashions.”

 

Upon seeing the expressions of his companions, Duo said in an innocent tone that fooled no one, “Well, I have been working on another spell…”

 

“Do show us, Duo!” Dorothy said enthusiastically, and was echoed by the others.

 

“All right then. Let's see, I'll need something truly horrible-looking for this spell.” Duo's gaze fastened on Solo's jeweled family crest which, like Duo's own, was displayed prominently on the gentleman's chest. “Oh, I say, Solo, your medallion will do splendidly!”

 

Solo pretended to wince at the insult, but handed over the item good-naturedly. Duo began the spell, chanting loudly in an arcane language and gesturing broadly. At the end of his phrase he tossed the medallion into the air and Solo was enveloped in a large cloud of - purple, of course - smoke.

 

When the smoke appeared, there was another shout of laughter. Solo's own fashionable ensemble had been replaced with the short, hot pink robes that the ladies of the city currently favored using after bathing. And there was nothing underneath the robes. The group laughed harder as Solo regarded himself with comical dismay.

 

Duo chuckled, tapping one finger on his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Now, however did that happen?” he murmured innocently. “That's not what the spell's supposed to do.” His gaze drifted beyond the group a little, and he brightened, spotting the figure just then stepping into the inn.

 

“I say, Cousin!” he called out, beckoning the older man over. “Could you come here and tell me what went wrong with this spell?”

 

The most powerful mage in Cliffbreak stalked over to Duo's gathering. “I wouldn't presume,” he rumbled, and took hold of Duo's wrist. “It would seem, Duo, that we need to have another little talk.” He glared at those assembled. The others took the not-so-subtle hint and scattered, leaving Duo to his fate.

 

“Cowards, all of them,” Duo said in a musing voice. “Hey, mind the velvet!” he protested as his uncle dragged him from the main gathering room to a quieter, more enclosed area.

 

“Shut up and listen,” Milliardo growled. “You've heard about Rhys Ravenwing.”

 

Duo snagged a glass of wine from a passing steward. “No, can't say that I have. What's the good ranger been up to these days?”

 

“Very little. He's dead.” Duo paled, and a look of remorse washed over Milliardo's features. “I'm sorry, Duo. I'd forgotten that you and Rhys had become good friends.”

 

“Rhys Ravenwing,” Duo said in a distant tone. “Your death will be avenged, my friend.” Anyone who could have seen Duo at that moment would have had a hard time equating him with Cliffbreak's celebrated fashion plate and notoriously inept mage. The young man's face was dark with rage, a rage all the more remarkable by the control that held it in check, and his violet eyes blazed with a fierce determination.

 

He focused that flaring look on his cousin and teacher. “Well?” he said, his eyes hard. “I trust you had a purpose behind telling me this, instead of letting me find out through the grapevine?”

 

Milliardo's eyes remained sad and sympathetic, but he continued. “The ranks of the powerful who support Annabel grow very thin. Rhys was an extremely valuable contact among the rangers that travel the wilds of the sylven territories on the edges of Lantall. It will take months for the queen to find a replacement, and that is time she does not have at this point. Rhys was stabbed to death, supposedly in a tavern brawl. His death was not a coincidence.”

 

Duo leaned back against the wall, folding his arms, the mask of dandy and flippant flirt back in place. “No, the good ranger was never one to involve himself in unnecessary violence. So much easier to simply use that charm he seemed to possess in abundance.”

 

Milliardo eyed his pupil, and sighed, knowing the flippancy was Duo's way of dealing with the strong emotions provoked by the bad news. “I need you to do something for me.”

 

“Somehow, I knew it would come to that,” Duo drawled.

 

“Enough,” Milliardo growled. “I am no mark, Duo. You need not carry on the masquerade with me.”

 

Duo shrugged, his emotions hidden behind carelessness. “Sorry, cousin, force of habit.”

 

Milliardo looked at his cousin a moment, then reach into his cloak and pulled out a beautifully done portrait. He held it out to Duo for his relative's inspection.

 

Duo took it and let out a long, admiring wolf whistle. The subject of the painting was a slender young man perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Shining gold hair framed a delicately sculpted face and tumbled down his back. He had a tightly-muscled dancer's build, a mouth that begged to be kissed, and large, almond-shaped bright teal eyes. Duo was highly partial to that shade - the way teal eyes could shift from blue to green fascinated him. What was unusual about the portrait, though, was the creature that sat on its haunches beside the young man. Unless Duo was much mistaken, it was a member of the reanlos, the rare cat spirits that almost never had anything to do with humans.

 

“Besides being the future bearer of my children, who is he and what has he to do with Rhys Ravenwing?” he wanted to know.

 

“I've only been able to discover his surname thus far - he's a Winner.”

 

Duo glanced up, his expression alert. “So, I'm supposed to find him and bring him here for Annabel to question?”

 

“No, you're going to find him and protect him,” Milliardo corrected. “This young one was responsible for imprisoning Landros Blackstone. We had been after evidence to get him charged for months, if you recall, and he shows up out of the blue and has him thrown in jail in two blinks of an eye. I pulled the records of the court proceedings when I realized who was being accused. The accuser refused to give his name; the only thing he gave was his last name. However, he provided enough magical evidence to the local Watch that Landros was convicted almost immediately.”

 

Duo whistled again. “Sounds like he'll be the target of Landros' lovely friends for some time to come.”

 

“Indeed.” Milliardo's voice was very dry. “Landros had quite a few allies, and they are known to be…rather vindictive. You'll be pleased to know that we have confirmed that it was one of them that was responsible for Rhys' death, by the way.” When Duo's eyes narrowed, Milliardo added, “I have Barton gathering intelligence; we'll get the bastard, Duo.”

 

Duo Maxwell's muscles uncoiled slightly, but he still eyed his cousin suspiciously. “So you're just sending your only apprentice - soon due to take his tests for mastery of magic - will-nil into the wilds to go and search for this random - albeit beautiful - man and protect him.”

 

“Correct,” Milliardo agreed.

 

Duo sighed. “Why,” he asked theatrically, “do I get the feeling you are leaving something out?”

 

Milliardo sighed. “Part of the evidence the young man gave was that he himself was held in thrall by Landros under a blinding spell for four years, since he was fourteen. It was a chance encounter with the reanlos,” he nodded to the portrait, “that allowed him to gain his freedom.”

 

Duo's eyes darkened with anger once more, but just for a moment; the emotion was quickly controlled and hidden. “So,” he said slowly, “He probably has little to no idea of the political situation Lantall is in currently.”

 

“Yes,” Milliardo sighed. “He and the reanlos disappeared into the wilds directly after the trial, and have not been seen or heard from since. It has been almost two months. I need to know where that boy is.”

 

Duo saw past his cousin's own mask of sternness to the urgency behind it. “Why is this boy so important?” he asked softly.

 

Milliardo rubbed his temple. “I have a hunch. But that's all I have. I have no proof of my suspicions about this particular boy, and until I do I won't speak of them. Just take it on faith that I believe he would be a good person to have as a friend.”

 

Duo's eyebrows shot up. “Quite a recommendation, coming from you. And you don't even know the boy?”

 

“No.” Milliardo turned back toward main gathering area of the inn. “I suggest you pack your things and find something more sensible to wear. I need you to leave tomorrow.”