Bacorium Legacy (90 page)

Luca jumped away just in time, before the statue he stood on broke apart in several pieces. Zinoro landed in the knee-high water, and slashed again, his sword easily cutting through the marble. Water began to spray out, some pipe having been destroyed in Zinoro's attack.

There was a rumbling in the ground, and Zinoro glanced worriedly at the fountain. He hastily ran to the edge and jumped away, just in time to keep from being thrown back by the geyser that burst out from the ruined fountain.

As water rained down from the sky, Zinoro landed expertly without a misstep. Luca then appeared right in front of him, and he brought his sword up just in time to keep from being sliced in half.

Caught in a parry, Luca tried to break away, but Zinoro pushed back, keeping their engagement. His footing unsure, Luca momentarily stumbled, and Zinoro pressed his advantage, pushing hard against Luca. He lost his balance and fell backwards, onto his back.

A second later, Zinoro's claymore came down on him. He rolled out of the way, and the blade sliced into the paved street, leaving a slash several metres deep in its wake. As Luca rolled, he pushed himself back onto his feet, and gathered a bit more mana.

Luca threw another set of magick needles, then quickly warped to the other side of the street. He threw a second set, catching Zinoro between them.

As he expected, Zinoro jumped into the air to avoid the needles. Luca warped into the air, above Zinoro, and brought his sword down as he fell.

Zinoro reacted perfectly, blocking Luca's stroke with one of his own. The impact of the two blades meeting was so intense it pushed Luca back up into the air, reversing his fall.

The sound of rushing water filled Luca's ears, and he realised where he was going. He turned his head, trying to spot somewhere he could warp to, but all he saw was the geyser of water. He hit the water, and it knocked him back.

Losing awareness of what was happening, Luca fell and hit the ground. Pain shot through him, and he rolled some distance, his sword falling from his hand in the chaos.

He couldn't tell if any bones were broken. He had no time to spare writhing in pain - Luca forced himself to rise. Despite the intense pain in his arms and legs, he climbed back up to a standing position. His legs weren't broken, at least, and his arms seemed to be fine. Still, the pain in his chest worried him.

Luca took note of the situation. His sword was a few paces away, the manaflame having died out the moment it had left his hand. Zinoro stood a safe distance away from the geyser, and seemed to be short of breath. Was it possible he was tiring?

Again, Luca thought of Zinoro's uncanny ability to predict his reactions. Gareth had said something similar to that earlier - that no matter what kind of attacks his men tried on Zinoro, he anticipated them all. It was too precise to be coincidence. It was almost like Zinoro could see the-

“Of course!”

He'd forgotten. His memories of the fight earlier had been hazy, but Zinoro had admitted it. He could see certain things just before they were about to happen, he'd said. Part of that was undoubtedly anything that could cause him harm.

Zinoro's gaze was on him. Luca saw him glance quickly at
Siora
, resting on the ground. Luca knew what he was thinking. Zinoro could not take his sword, because it would burn him, but if he could get between Luca and his weapon - the only thing that made the fight equal - it would be over quickly.
 

Luca's eyes met Zinoro's for a brief moment.

They both took off at a run.

<> <> <>

The throne room doors swinging behind him, Gareth stepped out into the hallway. Brand, who stood with Wiosna and five Sonoian guards, turned as the captain emerged.

“Orders, Captain?” asked one of the guards.

“We're going out there,” Gareth said, pointing at the palace doors. “We have to keep the Acarians from breaching the palace doors. We must protect the king!”

“Aye!” said several of the guards, though they wore expressions that betrayed their enthusiasm.

“We'll help you,” Brand offered.

“You two are Allmans, right?” Gareth asked. “That's good. The Allmans helped us the first time the Acarians came here. You all are the best of the best, they say. Perhaps your aid will tip the scales in our favour.”

Gareth started for the palace doors, and the others followed behind him. As they ran, Brand saw Wiosna looked less than confident.

“What is it?”

“He says we're the best,” Wiosna muttered, “but our temple fell in a surprise attack just like this.”

“That's true,” Brand said. “Perhaps if Allma the Third hadn't been a corrupt scumbag, we might have had a chance. But that's in the past. Don't worry about that sort of thing - just fight and take out as many of them as you can!”

Gareth pushed open the palace doors, and ran through. As they emerged into the war-torn city streets, Brand looked out at the long steps of the Ivory Palace. A young boy was running, distributing arrows to archers positioned on the steps. Another team of archers, already armed, were making their way into the city, disappearing into a side-street. Various soldiers were busy setting up spiked barriers on the steps to slow down the Acarians, and at the very foot of the steps was a makeshift barricade of crates and spears.

“They were completely caught off-guard,” Wiosna muttered. “These defences are not nearly good enough.”

Ignoring that, Brand turned to Gareth. “Where will we be stationed?”

The captain pointed down to the other side of the barricade, where fifty or so soldiers were gathered. “At the very front line.”

“They're coming!” shouted one of the archers.

They looked out, as far as they could see. The Acarians were charging down the street towards the palace, gathered in groups of five or six. Quickly estimating, Brand figured there couldn't have been more than fifty in total. He almost let out a sigh of relief.

And then more followed. A second wave. And then a third. And a fourth.

“There's so many...” one of the Sonoian guards muttered.

“Let's get down to the front lines, now!” Gareth shouted, starting down the steps. He stopped, when he saw that none of his men were following him. “What are you doing?! Let's go!”

“What's the point?!” one of his men exclaimed. His eyes were wide in fear and panic. “There's far too many of them! We could never hold off that many! We're all going to die!”

Gareth stared at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing in anger. Brand and Wiosna exchanged glances.

“Yes, you probably are going to die,” Gareth said in a low voice. “There are indeed far too many of them, and we were not prepared for this attack at all. The city is most likely lost, and the king will probably be killed. Now tell me how you would choose to die? Hiding in some corner, crying in fear, like a spineless coward? Or down on those streets, fighting like a man?!”

Gareth turned back around, and took off towards the barricade. “If T'Saw is to fall today, I will have it be known that it fell fighting until the bitter end!”

Brand and Wiosna followed after him, and as they reached the other side of the barricade, Gareth turned and glanced back at the steps. His five men were fleeing back into the palace.

“Cowards,” he spat. In a louder voice, he shouted to the group of soldiers at the barricade, “Your fellow soldiers are fleeing right now, abandoning their city to these Acarian scumbags! Are you lot going to do the same?!”

The revenants were drawing closer.

The group of soldier shouted in unison, “Never!”

“Good,” Gareth said, grinning. He drew his sword, and stepped out to the front of the line. “Prepare to die.”

Whether that was meant for the Acarians, or his own men, nobody would ever know. As the first wave of Acarians reached them, Gareth's sword was the first to draw blood.

<> <> <>

“This is it.”

The guard before them stopped before a heavy door. In the underground passage, surrounded by stone, the only way they could see was through the light of the torch the guard carried.

Emila glanced at her younger sister, who looked worried and afraid. Eva had hardly spoken at all since their arrival at T'Saw. Emila understood that she was likely afraid, as there was a battle going on just outside. So much was happening to her, after she had spent the last few years in Acarienthia, seeing no one but Zinoro. It was little wonder that she was confused.

The guard knocked on the door a few times, in a very specific manner that was undoubtedly a code. They waited a few moments, until the door was unlocked and opened.

It swung open at once, and a man stood in the doorway, holding a large halberd, eyeing them suspiciously. Emila recognised him at once.

“Jared,” she said.

He blinked, finally realising who she was in the dim light. “Emila. It's good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too,” Emila said. She nodded to Eva. “This is my younger sister, Eva.”

Jared looked at them for a moment, not sure what to say. “I see.” He then said to their guard, “You brought them here for their safety?”

“I did.”

“Well done,” Jared said. “Get back upstairs. I'll take it from here.”

The guard nodded, and left, disappearing in the darkness. As he left, the light from his torch faded, and the only illumination was the soft glow of a light inside the room.

“Come on,” Jared muttered, moving out of the way so they could enter the room. They stepped inside, and Jared closed the door behind them. There was a click as Jared locked the door.

The room was small, but with enough space for several people. There was a table in the middle, and a few seats around it. Six beds rested against the wall, and on the other side was a cluster of crates. There was another, much smaller room on the other side, which seemed to be a bathroom.

In addition to Jared, there were two other guards, who stood leaning against the walls. Trist, the prince of Sono, paced impatiently, while Selphie was seated on one of the chairs, biting her thumb.

As they entered, Selphie looked up. “What is it?” she asked, before seeing Emila. She immediately rose and ran across the room, excitedly hugging Emila.

“You're alright!” she said.

“Er, yeah,” Emila awkwardly muttered.

Selphie released Emila. “You really worried us when you ran off by yourself. What happened? Why did you leave? How did you get back here?”

“It's...” Emila frowned, not sure where to begin. “It's a long story. A really long story, actually. But I left because I thought I could stop the war. It turned out I couldn't do anything - but Luca found me, and brought me back here.”

She knew she couldn't tell Selphie about her - connection to Zinoro. Emila had no idea how Selphie would react to that, especially as he was currently attacking her home.

“I see,” Selphie said. “Yes, now is not the time for long stories. I take it Luca's out fighting right now?”

“He is.” She was trying not to think about that.

The excitement of seeing Emila again fading, Selphie's expression faded. She looked worried. “They came out of nowhere, just like before. We weren't ready at all. My father sent my brother and I down here. I have no idea what's going on out there.”

Selphie then noticed Eva, who was standing half-behind Emila, keeping to herself. “Who is this? She looks like a younger you...”

<> <> <>

Luca dived, and his fingers grasped the handle of his sword. The momentum carried him, and he continued to roll, avoiding the swing of Zinoro's sword by a mere second.

Luca hit the edge of the damaged fountain, collapsed in a sitting position. Though the previous geyser had died out, the broken pipes still sprayed their water in the air, creating an artificial rain. He sat under this rain.

Zinoro pulled his sword out of the ground, yet another slash left in its wake. Rather than continuing his assault against Luca, he stood in place for a moment, and the manaflame on his sword faded and vanished. Zinoro slowly turned and faced Luca. It was impossible for Luca to tell if the droplets that fell from his brow were sweat, or water from the fountain.

“Taking a break?” Luca asked, chuckling without mirth.

After a moment, Zinoro replied, “Something like that.”

The Acarian king looked out over the city, taking in the sight of the destruction his army had brought to it. His expression was unreadable.

“Are you proud of what you've done?” Luca asked him.

Zinoro did not answer.

Luca drew himself up, and brushed his now-soaked bangs from his eyes. As he did, Zinoro looked back over at him, and his gaze was drawn to Luca's left cheek.

“Yeah, its still there,” Luca said. “It always will be. You gave me that to remember, and I am remembering everything. If you're looking for forgiveness, you've come to the wrong person.”

Luca lunged forth, his sword springing to life in white fire. Zinoro had no time to conjure his own manaflame. He blocked Luca's attack, and was knocked back by the sheer force of the blow.

As Luca advanced, Zinoro glared at him, his single red eye glowing. Luca knew what was coming, but this time he was ready. He quickly used the mana radiating from
Siora
to throw up a shield. Zinoro's mana bounced uselessly off of the shield, and Luca's charge was not halted in the slightest.
 

“That trick won't work anymore!”

Luca brought down his blade with a hatred-fuelled fury, and Zinoro struggled not to be forced to the ground under its weight.

“D-damn!”

Zinoro jumped away, putting distance between Luca and himself. He flew through the air, and landed on the ground several metres away, right in front of a house.

Luca was just about to teleport over to Zinoro and renew his attack, when he heard a familiar voice's shout.

“Now!”

Luca looked up, and saw a group of a dozen or so men in robes, standing on the roof of  a building on the opposite side of the street. Each man fired an arrow from the bow he held, and the arrows shot across the street to where Zinoro stood.