Eighteen

"You seem to be amazingly persistent, and it's beginning to tire me... how's this—just give up on them."

"Them? I haven't the slightest idea of what you're going on about. I came here for one reason: to destroy you."

"Why ever would you do that?"

"It's simple: traitors must die. You got away somehow ten years ago, but I'll End you this time."

"Traitors?" Hysterical, rasping laughter. "You've grown hypocritical in your old age. If I were to return to the Inferno, would you return to the Light? Dumb beast. Have a piece of your own judgment."

---

Gem woke prematurely, wracked with pain. Clutching at his chest, he stumbled from his room and tripped down the stairs. He staggered into the underground manor's living room covered in sweat, his hand falling limp at his side as his own pain became a minor detail. He fell to his knees by the sofa. Mana lay motionless upon it, the book he'd been reading splayed on the floor, its pages crumpled and its spine wrecked.

Staring at the Guardian Heir, Gem didn't know what to do. He knew what had caused the mage's collapse. It was the same pain as that which he felt, the pain that suddenly surged back into the foreground, doubled. His vision disappeared as he tipped over and rolled onto his side, gasping for breath. The bounty hunter struggled to remain in control of his senses, fought to regain his vision. Failing that, he let out two pained sighs, each one syllable.

"Zu...kro..."

"What's the racket for?" Julien yawned, his eyes closed as he stepped into the room, wrapped in his blanket. He cracked his eyes open, and the moment his vision adjusted to the chandelier's light, he too was at Mana's side. "Mana! Mana, what's wrong? Mana! What happened? Who did this to you? Answer me, Mana!" He shook the boy's shoulders, desperately trying to get him to wake up. No answer came; Mana remained motionless. Gem could make out the lord yelling, and then his hearing faded as he lost all consciousness.

When he came to, he was still lying a few feet away from the sofa, right to where he had rolled after falling down. Julien knelt by the Guardian Heir's side, brow furrowed, eyes the image of worry, scraggly jaw clenched tight.

"Julien?" Gem coughed, pushing himself into a sitting position with great difficulty.

"Oh Gem, what happened?!" demanded the lord of Tryn, turning his head to face the bounty hunter. "Do you know what happened to Mana?"

"Zuk..." came a faint voice from the sofa. Despite his pain, Gem was at the mage's side in seconds, as speechless as Julien as the two watched Mana surface. First, Mana's eyebrows twitched, then his mouth moved, attempting again and again to speak. Julien encouraged him with a squeeze of his hand, and Mana's eyes snapped open. "He's gone!"

"You did feel it, then," the bounty hunter panted, his voice still trembling.

"He's gone, brother! Why?" With this, Mana sat up abruptly. Gem could see tears in his eyes.

"I don't know!" breathed Gem, frustration full in his voice.

"What are you two going on about?" Julien asked, still beyond worried, his voice as frantic as Gem's ragged breathing had been just moments before.

"Zuk's gone," Mana moaned.

"Zuk's gone," repeated Gem, averting his eyes from the Guardian Heir. "Our... older brother. He has died."

"Zukro? Killed in the Inferno by... what, his own comrades?" a bewildered Lord Tryn asked.

"No," began Mana.

"Slain in the Net by his worst enemy," finished Gem.

"Nothing the two of you are saying makes any sense. Zukro's been locked in the Inferno for three thousand years, along with Maha. And what is this 'Net,' anyway? And what would Zukro's death, should he have died, have to do with you both losing consciousness due to immense pain? I mean, I'm glad that you're alive, Gem, and much more so that Lord Mana is, but—"

"I—we—have just lost something very important," Mana reasoned. "I remember this feeling from three thousand years ago, when Zukro..."

"...murdered me?" Gem asked.

"Yeah. It's unmistakable."

"Feels worse than dying," affirmed Gem, whose chest was still a furnace of pain.

"It must be because we're linked to some extent," Mana concluded, attempting to offer an explanation to Julien. "And we feel, to that extent, what occurs to eachother."

"That's freakish," Julien commented, "and it's not even Jikkuu..." Mana giggled lightly at this. Gem was surprised; a mage laughing lightheartedly at his talent being called freakish? Most men of Libra despised Jikkuu with a passion, a fear of the unknown surpassing reason having gripped them with the rule of Guardian Lord Lont close to one hundred years before. Gem could only imagine what ostracism Mana had experienced. The residual terror from Lont's edict of The Purge, the brutal law that had sentenced all Jikkuu-capable men and women to death, had been stirred up once again amongst the countries of the Libran Alliance with the birth of the Guardian Heir. Even in Verga City, merchants and travelers spoke in hushed tones of the terrible powers Mana possessed. Gem himself had never understood the common fear of Jikkuu, having been practically raised by a magic-using demon. After having experienced the two cousin nobles interacting, Gem had come to the conclusion that they were quite close, and had assumed that the Lord Tryn did not view Jikkuu as a dangerous curse. As he was mulling over these facts, Gem noticed Julien smiling broadly. "I'm glad you're alright, kiddo." With that, the lord gave the red-haired kid a muffling bear hug.

So the lord had been joking in an effort to cheer his younger cousin. Gem cracked a lopsided smile and stood, the motion causing him to wince a little. As Julien released Mana, Gem's expression darkened. He'd made up his mind.

"Kieku forced me to remember my death, but just that memory alone did not explain Zukro's actions. I still do not understand why he chose to abandon us back then, but that given I think I know exactly why he killed me. I would have never sided with him so long as Mana fought Maha." Seeing that the mage was visibly discomforted by the third person referral, the bounty hunter looked into his eyes and addressed him. "I swore an oath to you, Mana. I swore I would do anything to protect your happiness. Now I remember the pain I felt when you were injured in your first clash with Maha. Perhaps it was self-preservation, but I believed I would do anything to limit that pain. I take this oath once more. I will do anything for you."

Mana's eyes widened, and Gem could tell that he did not remember any such oath. It made sense that their slowly returning memories would not overlap perfectly, and Gem didn't mind that the mage had no recollection of the immense pain that had caused him to take the vow.

"Isn't that a bit 'Legend' of you, though?" Julien asked quizzically. "Doesn't it defeat your purpose to accept those memories and act on them?"

"I told you before that I do not plan on running from who I am. I intend to use my abilities to the benefit of those around me. Eventually, I will overcome who I am, but until then, I am who I am. I cannot protect Mana as the Roof-runner, so I shall do so as Legend."

"Ahhhhh, it's too confusing," Julien yelled in frustration, rubbing his temple as if alleviating a headache. "Mana, kiddo, you alright? I'm going to go back to bed."

"I'm fine, Jul," replied Mana. "Thanks, and good-night."

"And good-night to you, Legend." So saying, the Lord of Tryn rose from his kneeling position and headed for the stairs.

"I'm sure he isn't confused, brother," Mana said, "and is just messing with you. It's one of his ways of being friendly."

"Friendly, huh," coughed Gem.

"But... brother, will you help me in my Crystal Hunt?" Mana, now sitting upright with his back against the sofa's armrest, pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them, looking up expectantly at the bounty hunter's face.

"I fear that your pursuit of the Crystals will only bring you more pain, Mana," Gem responded quietly after a minute's contemplation. "I was opposed to your Crystal Hunt two days ago and that has not changed. Thinking back, though, I was opposed to you fighting Maha. I remember begging Bane—our father—to let me take your place and fight in your stead. My feelings have rarely had any influence on things. I will not stand in your way, Mana, and should you wish it, I will find every Crystal for you, even if that means taking A'xia back from Ji'Lopan."

"I don't need anything so dramatic," the Guardian Heir smiled, "just your presence and anything you willingly contribute is more than enough. I have just one favor to ask at the moment."

"Consider it done."

"Please, stop seeing me as the Guardian Heir." Gem, surprised by the request, didn't respond. He stood still, and did not show any shock on his face. Mana's expectant look faded after a few moments and he closed his eyes. "Hey, I'm tired. The pain from Zukro's death... exhausted me. I'm going to sleep, brother." So saying, Mana's back slid down the armrest and he slumped sideways.

"Idiot, go upstairs and get in bed," muttered Gem, not loudly enough to wake the already fast asleep mage. "Ah well. Sweet dreams. Now, I will just..." Gem looked around the room and noticed the book, still lying face-down on the floor. Picking it up, he straightened its pages and closed it carefully, hoping to smooth its fresh wrinkles. "Return this, I suppose."

Still clad in the light, over-sized tunic that served him as a nightgown, the bounty hunter headed upstairs to change. He dressed himself in his usual cream-colored short-sleeved tunic and brown shorts, strapped on a belt lined with daggers, flung on a cloak, and in seconds was out the manor's front door, tome in hand, all without a sound. The door shut silently behind him.

To Gem it felt like the middle of the night, yet people milled about the streets in as plentiful numbers as they had during his daytime. The city was truly insensitive to time. Buzzing around the clock, it was filled with people who had adjusted to different schedules and who lived out their waking hours beneath the earth, unaware of the sun's movement overhead. The phenomenon still seemed strange to Gem, whose nearly-nocturnal life in Verga City had been so regulated. The idea of a shop that would be open even in the wee hours, or that of an official who slept while men begged at his doors for audience, seemed outlandish.

Making his way to the Hall of Lore via normal road took Gem over an hour. When he reached it, he sought out a secluded, unguarded corner of the perimeter and entered the Net. Once within, he took a single step forward and willed himself back into UnderMist. He tumbled out in the middle of an aisle lined with bookshelves, each laden with dusty tomes much like the one he held.

The Hall of Lore, indistinguishable in exterior architecture from the average Terran lord's home, was magnificent to behold from within. Its high arched ceilings stretched into darkness, the light from wall-mounted torches not reaching them. Twin Ionic columns framed every doorway, intricate sculptures of opened books resting upon their capitals. Its walls made of red brick and the shelves carved of a similarly colored wood, the entire interior felt warm. The employment of torches rather than more modern lamps had originally confused Gem, but after accustoming himself to the library, he had realized why those in charge risked fire for enhanced atmosphere.

Glancing around to ensure that he wasn't being watched, Gem tiptoed over to the nearest shelf and slid the book he carried in between two others. Both of these concerned the Creation, just as the book he had "borrowed" did, just as the contents of the entire aisle did. It was an oft-visited subject amongst the lore-recording scholars, and was a constant subject of musings from as far back as the records went. The oldest books in the library were books on the Creation, and most of the newer books discussed new theories on that same subject.

"Now then," Gem murmured to himself as he strode from the Creation-lore aisle, "the Crystal Hunts of the past hundred years should be chronicled in this place somewhere."

Instead of heading for the Chamber of Prophecy, where he had spent his last two days of research, Gem crept through a narrow corridor to the immense Vault of History. Still wary of what guards there might be, he shuffled around, examining the shelf labels. After five minutes of searching, he discovered a white plaque that declared its shelf dedicated to the year 3035—the year Lont became Guardian Lord. Lifting a hefty tome entitled "The Scattering: The Guardians' Dishonor" from the shelf, he immersed himself in his studies.

It was exactly eighty years ago that the Guardian Lord Kondo died. He was murdered, a crime placed upon the shoulders of the Guardian Heir at the time—his son, Gem al'Kondo. Gem's younger brother, the first of the main Mana Line to lack the talent of Jikkuu, assumed the throne in Gem's stead. His name was Lont. Lont al'Kondo declared three laws within his first year on the Mana Throne. The first of these, The Purge, was the cause for the popular fear of Jikkuu. It named Jikkuu evil, and called for the deaths of all who possessed the talent. Save for a few Guardian Magi who escaped and hid away until their natural deaths, every registered Jikkuu user, and all children found to carry the taint thereafter, were executed. Perhaps a dabbler or two managed to evade death, but the talent more or less died out with the issuance of The Purge.

The second of Lont's laws, The Burning, was an extension of The Purge, issued in order to stop men from harboring Jikkuu users. It granted local authorities (and any vigilantes) around the continent the right to use "any means" in their pursuit of a safer community. The Burning was a name given the law by its opposition, and it overrode the law's true name decisively, accurately describing the flash-pillaging occurring across the Vergan and Eldran countrysides. Lont's third law, The Scattering, called for the Mana Palace to toss out its three-thousand-year-old relics, the Crystals of Mana.

The book that Gem was reading concerned itself with the last of these laws, and, more specifically, with how its issuance in effect stripped the Guardians of their right to their name. Given them by the Entities three thousand years ago, the title "Guardians" referred to the Mana Line's duty to protect the Crystals. The author argued that discarding the Crystals of Mana meant discarding the title. Gem sighed as he shut the tome. While its contents were interesting, the arguments given were much more political than informative, and didn't touch on The Scattering's more interesting details—which Crystals were scattered to where.

Hours passed as Gem pored over texts regarding the Scattering and the ensuing Crystal Hunts, and he made little progress, if any. Struggling through dense passages on the controversies of the time, there was little substantial information on the whereabouts of the Crystals. <i>I guess that's why it's called a hunt</i>, Gem thought. After slogging through page after page of useless information, he had acquired a new-found respect for all the men who had undertaken Crystal Hunts in the last eighty years. They had been hunters, hunters seeking an elusive quarry. Only through thorough investigation could one find the Crystals, Gem realized. Only through hunting. <i>Then I'll be a hunter.</i>

He studied for hours more, even as he grew hungry, thirsty, and tired. He sought answers to his questions; he prowled the hunting grounds of lore. At long last, after nearly exhausting the resources at hand, he found a short list embedded in a larger paragraph regarding the scattering of the Crystals. According to the author of the book, the information was taken from one of the Guardians who had organized The Scattering under Lont's orders. The list went like this:

<i>"Three to the mist, and two to the Fortress within it; and one each to the desert and plains and hill and mountain, and to the second lake; and one overlooking what man can't see, and the last enshrined where all man can."</i>

"Three to the mist?" Gem whispered to himself. "That must mean Terra. But what's this about a fortress?" Puzzled, he looked up from the book and gazed into the darkness of the ceiling. "There aren't any fortresses in Terra..."

"Is someone there?" came a gruff voice from the next room. Following it came the sound of approaching footsteps. Hastily, Gem replaced the book he held and dived into the Net amidst a burst of flame, leaving the Hall of Lore behind. At long last, he had found a clue. It was enough for now, he figured, as he made his way back to the manor.

Somewhere along the way, he decided to drop out of the Net and visit a bar. He was almost dying of thirst and the heat of his road home was nigh unbearable. He couldn't wait for the sweet peach tea that Mana would undoubtedly prepare for him—he needed water, and he needed it then and there. He chose a place with relatively little traffic to pop out at, and followed a stream of people to the nearest pub, a building the sign of which proclaimed a free half-loaf of fresh bread with each drink ordered.

Once inside, Gem learned that one couldn't simply order a half-loaf of bread, and that it was only available alongside an alcoholic beverage. Not keen on that line of drink, the bounty hunter asked for an ale and the accompanying bread, minus the ale. Being charged for alcohol when all he wanted was bread and water seemed a tad unfair, but he was too starved to object and instead he quickly gobbled down the half-loaf (more like a crust) of sourdough, whereupon he found himself ordering a second of the same. After paying for ten ales and managing to eat the equivalent of a whole loaf of bread, he leaned forward against the counter, glass of water in hand.

Amused by Gem's evasion of alcohol, the bartender, a slight elderly man whose eyes were lost in his wrinkled face, struck conversation.

"You from 'round 'ere?"

"Passing through," replied the bounty hunter, speaking truthfully.

"Oh? Where ya comin' from?"

"I was last in Verga City."

"So, what ya do for a livin'? You a travelin'... scholar? Don't look it!" cackled the old man. Gem was, after all, not the image of a historian. Even with his weapon-lined belt concealed, his outfit spoke for itself. "You a mercen'ry er somethin', boy?"

"I have been known to lend my services to others, yes," answered Gem cautiously.

"Hahahaha!" laughed the bartender. "I'd gander th'Un'nerworld, but ya say ye're jist passin' through..."

"Indeed," Gem stated firmly, "I am not with the Underworld."

"Then p'r'aps ye're able ta lend yer services 'thout goin' through the system," the old man mused, stroking his bearded chin.

"I... suppose I could, yes." Gem kept himself guarded. He didn't want to reveal too much, and should this man ask more than he felt comfortable answering, he would get up and leave. The title "Roof-runner" would be his undoing here in UnderMist, surrounded by the Underworlders he had betrayed.

"Well, would ya listen to this ol' man's request?"

Gem lowered his head and put his hand to his mouth as he whispered, "this has nothing to do with the Underworld?"

"C'rrect," the man muttered back, "those basterds charge through the roof fer their sell-swords. Listen, boy, come back t'morra, an' I'll give ya half yer price and a breakdown of the job."

"Sure."

The bartender pushed a whole fresh-baked loaf of bread onto Gem, insisting that the purchase of ale earlier was "plain silly," and the bounty hunter was on his way. Jumping into the Net in an alleyway behind the pub, he ran back to the manor to report his findings from earlier to whomever might be awake. As he made his way back, he hoped that Mana had recovered properly. The pain from earlier—the death of Zukro—still lingered on Gem's mind.