Zaldizko - Chapter 4 Fourth Tier

I slept next to War the entire night with the hope that he’d stir to consciousness, but he remained in his comatose state.

I relished the brighter side in seeing his skin showing some youth and his body fleshing out due to the running saline and liquid protein that flowed from a drip Forneas had connected to his arms.

There were more surprises I learned of the lantern room, which I would never have fathomed had Forneas not mentioned them. An example was the purpose of the bronze night table.

I saw Forneas kneeling motionless before it one time and wondered why he was transfixed.

To my surprise, I saw the patterned surface of the night table cycling subtle colours every time the blue stream of light from this diamond eye ran over the intertwining lines. Upon closer inspection, the lines were etched grooves filled with some silver and glass-like substance.

Forneas later described the substance as organisms identified as _dermaleeches_; demonic parasites, apparently harmless to other living creatures provided they were bound to a non-organic surface. This detail didn’t deter my wariness from placing my hand on that thing. It seemed these demon critters were intelligent enough to collect and preserve other non-organic things in their prime condition. Information was also included, which he would absorb through his scanning.

It led me to wonder what materials made an animachine. Especially the diamond eye that allowed him to retrieve information and recall it upon will.

The whole thing did my head in.

So, I left explanations at that and was comfortable with the fact that both the night table and Forneas were constantly monitoring the health of War and making sure he recovered to an optimal condition.

Forneas helped me dress in my new clothes, which fitted my body better than I had imagined.

The long-sleeved butterfly collar blouse had enough length to be tucked, neatly, into my tanned slacks of sturdy cotton. The navy-blue vest was able to hang down my torso without bunching when buttoned up.

My pants were a snug fit into the black calf-length boots, which (surprisingly) didn’t weigh my feet down.

I was amazed by the actual space of the pocket-sized pouch of the double belt around my waist.

The belt pouch literally had space, yet I was easily able to see and retrieve the item I wanted.

At first, Small Cap was reluctant to place a leg in the pouch with fears that he’d never be able to come out.

When he realised that he could freely come and go as he pleased, he soon took a liking to it.

_”Roomy. Me keep stuff safe and clean for Freend.”_ Small Cap promised when he had made himself comfortable and fell straight asleep.

Since the belt did the trick, I ditched the suspenders. Of all the clothing items, I was most impressed with the red bow tie affixed to the spread area of my shirt collar.

I felt suave; a word Death had once described stylishly clothed men we saw in pictures of Bulldog’s secret Velvet Rose books.

“I look cool, right Forneas?” I asked the animachine as I adjusted my soft flat cap firmly to my head and open finger gloves over my hands.

He gave me an uninspiring affirmative. I wondered if I should trust the opinion of a machine to confirm fashion sense.

I could hear Jensen and Wilfred’s loud banter coming from up the corridor outside and figured it would be a moment of truth.

“Right. I’ll know for sure if I look decent enough for this Apocalypse,” I said with smug satisfaction.

“Morning Fam-” Jensen paused his greeting when he got a good look at me upon entry.

“Pfft! Going on a fox-bot hunt, are we?’ He laughed, obviously finding my outfit rather funny.

“Don’t mind the unrefined one; you look fabulous,” Wilfred reassured me. “I love the bow tie; very snazzy.”

“Aah yeah, guess we’ll have to thank Saku for your new-look later,” Jensen said after he had calmed down from his laughing fit.

The men got down to business afterwards and advised they were here to take me out on a date to the theater.

“The instructions from our Captain with his own words.” Jensen smirked.

I sighed. Why did I get the feeling the captain and his men were enjoying some more mockery at my expense?

_”Because you’re fun,”_ Jensen answered in my mind.

_”Not to mention cute like a black kitty-bot.”_ Wilfred tacked on.

_”We should start calling him Kuro-chan!”_ Jensen’s voice rang excitedly around my head.

“Ugh! Please stay out of my head!” I shouted, highly annoyed, and received hearty laughter for a response.

I released a weary sigh and went to check War’s condition, reluctant to leave his side, having gone through so much to be next to him again.

“I don’t want to leave him.” I held onto the War’s hand.

“I’ll be here to keep him safe Master Famine, and will await your return,” Forneas reassured me.

“Famine. The nikiaku ball your brother held is likely to hold information he wants you to see since it was released in your care,” Wilfred said with a serious voice.

I met his eyes that were unwavering with sober intent. I see, so the marble was more than it seemed. After learning about the night table and Forneas, I wasn’t surprised by the fact.

“So, this theater is a way to see this information?” I asked as I pulled the marble from my pouch and held in the palm of my hand.

“It is.”

I peered at its smoky, cloudy, texture with the hope that this thing held answers to my questions.

I closed my hand around the marble and returned it to the pouch. Small Cap mistook it for a pillow and wrapped his spindly legs around it to snuggle it in his sleep. The sight brought a smile to my face.

“Forneas, would you let me know straight away if anything happens with War?”

“Straight away Master Famine,” Forneas agreed.

I nodded and allowed the captain’s men to lead the way.

They led me through a maze of white corridor with cherry blossom rice paper doors on either side.

We eventuated to the bronze closed doors of that ghastly small glass room that moved. I suffered a few nauseous trips through the bronze-glass room, Jensen called an elevator, to reach the top tier of Hell’s Labyrinth.

During the journey (when I was able to pay attention to something else other than my queasy stomach), I absorbed Wilfred’s lecture on the elevator’s purpose.

“It’s a way to skip across the four tiers, move around quadrants,” Wilfred explained. He expanded on more details about Hell’s Labyrinth.

The top tier was known as the Fourth Tier, which was the entrance and resting place for those who worked or visited the labyrinth. Whereas the First Tier housed all the demons and criminals, existing on the lowest depths from the general population. The Second Tier was the infirmary, and the Third Tier held the visiting and conjugal rooms.

Each tier was roughly segregated into four quadrants of North Wing, South Wing, East Wing and West Wing.

“All prisoners are declared with a full profile report, which we have access to at any time via our maplinks.” Wilfred stoically finished off his lecture.

“No one on any level below the Fourth is undeclared. There’re no surprises.” Jensen added.

I gulped at the implications behind his words.

The elevator finally jerked to a complete rest. The glowing pattern of symbols, on one of the bronze doors, dulled and the doors opened.

I stepped out into a wonder I had only seen in Bulldog’s secret books.

People. There were many people of all shapes and sizes milling about an enormous and spacious foyer on two levels that ran way up to a domed glass roof.

I squinted madly at the strength of the natural light that was beaming down from the roof, and all over the walls and floors of polished white marble enriched with silver and gold trims.

“Ey! Watch meh dug yah clumsy git!” cursed a gruff old man in a woollen Norfolk suit that had the appearance of many years.

I looked to my feet and bulked at the sight of a golden Shih Tzu panting heavily before me. Although to say it was a living dog was an understatement; its fur was wire bristles, and eyes orbs of black crystal that I assumed was obsidian stone. The panting noises it made came out with a bit of a grunt, and its joints screeched when it moved.

The old man and his fake dog hobbled away to go about their business.

I saw many fake animals moving about the foyer. The people walked or patted them as if they were real.

“Hey, those animals also animachines?” I whispered to Wilfred.

“Bots. They are called bots, like cat-bot, dog-bot and so on,” he responded, walking ahead.

“Right.” I sighed, still finding it hard to accept, but decided not to think more of it.

We passed through a set of polished redwood doors with carved borders of fine floral detail, and along a red-carpeted hall where elaborately detailed silver scones and crystal chandeliers threw soft light across the polished marble walls.

My heart raced at the sight of striking men in navy-blue or tanned uniforms (like Leinard’s) or wearing striped, plaid or windowpane suits of dark-grey or blue, polished spats and broad toe shoes.

The passing women were gorgeous with their stylish bobs peeking out of cloche hatsadorned with a side flower decorationto frame their pretty painted faces and wearing loose-fitted dresses that flowed over the knees or to the ankles, and given shape by coloured sashes or belts around their drop waist. Slim fingers were sheathed with dainty lace or silk white gloves. Strings of pearl necklaces appeared to be a common neck accessory. Everywhere they walked, their thin high heels stabbed the carpet.

“Haha! Look at your face, like a kid in a forbidden candy shop.” Jensen laughed at the ogling expression my face carried every time a dolled-up woman strolled past.

I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t accustomed to seeing so many real-life women who were stylish to boot.

“Ugh, watch your hands you creep,” said one of the dolled-up women who bumped my shoulder when she passed me.

“Oh, terribly sorry,” I apologised with a bow.

The woman huffed and resumed her way down the hall, leaving a trace of a flowery scent behind. I was mesmerised by the way her bottom wiggled from side to side at her walk.

“Having fun there?” Jensen said lightly to draw my attention back to him.

I ignored the knights’ smirks, shook the distractions out of my head and focused on following their lead.

The hall opened into another white marble foyer of a smaller kind. We entered the redwood doors directly opposite of where we had arrived.

I gasped at the enormous circular room I had stepped into. It was like an observatory minus the telescope.

The high domed roof was entirely made up of clear window panels so the azure sky was precisely visible.

Patterned borders, of silver and bronze, ran along the trims and architraves of the white marble walls. The borders were also drawn all over the moonstone floors, forming an intricately detailed crown cakra symbol.

At the center of the cakra symbol stood a silver pedestal, carved with images of twisting vine leaves.

I glanced to the domed roof and noticed the central pane, looming over the pedestal, was a stained image of the same cakra symbol.

“Fancy,” I whispered.

“Isn’t it just.” Wilfred patted my shoulder.

He led me to a stone seating booth situated on the east side of the room, where the others were waiting for us.

“Finally decided to show.” Ryoko huffed with her arms crossed. Her eyes ran up and down my body with a weird frown.

“Going to a fox-bot hunt, are we?” she blurted carelessly.

“Bwhahaha! I said that too.” Jensen laughed.

“Knock it off.” Leinard silenced the room.

He gestured for me to sit next to him on a cushioned bench.

“Welcome to the theater.” Trix approached me with a flourished bow.

“Tacky Captain showing off again,” Jensen mumbled into Wilfred’s ear.

“You say something Sergeant-soon-to-be-demoted-if-he-doesn’t-shut-his-trap,” Trix said with creepy smile.

Jensen brushed off his comment feigning nonplus.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Leinard kicked things off.

I was asked to place the important object in the pedestal’s dish, and caused a bit of an outcry when the seated knights caught sight of Small Cap still snuggling the marble in his sleep.

“Eek, sorry about that,” I apologised as I carefully pried his legs off the surface, and caught the marble when it dropped free.

“There you go Friend,” I said, gently placing him in the pouch. I smiled when he stirred about to a new comfortable position.

I ceremoniously placed the marble to the dish and hurried to my seat.

Saku was called to stand before the pedestal.

The room fell to an anticipated quiet.

He pulled out a small envelope from his belt pouch, poured a snow like substance into the pedestal dish to bury the marble then returned to the seating booth to remove his overcoat, belts, weapons, gloves and boots, (so he was barefooted) and other bits and pieces on his body so only his clothes remained. He placed them on the empty seat next to Lita for safeguarding.

I was enthralled by the slenderness of his porcelain hands and his perfectly trimmed fingernails. His feet were smooth and beautifully shaped almost as if an artist had sculptured them. He was an epitome of divine handsomeness. My eyes wandered over his body, which was erect with perfect posture on the north joining point of the crown cakra floor symbol.

The room fell to an intense silence as he moved in a slow and elegant dance around the room, gracefully touching each joining point of the cakra symbol with the tips of his toes.

My heart pounded at the touch of the delicious breeze that stroked my skin, and the sweet scent of vanilla lazing about the air. The atmosphere became charged with a sensation akin to static.

Wilfred gestured for me to look to the ceiling. I was amazed at the glowing points of the stained-glass symbol where Saku’s feet touched those points on the floor’s version.

I returned my attention to Saku’s dancing, which stirred more static to spark white light from the silver and bronze borders around the room.

The floor symbol glowed. Its light intensified as his dance increased in speed and complexity.

Panels of subdued hard-light formed out of the border lines. They were pulled around the floor symbol’s outline by his dance. He added some high, low and roundhouse kicks into his choreography, which caused the hard-light panels to reshape and resize about the floor. His dance collected the reshaped panels towards the pedestal. They eventuated into a box of hard-light, which formed a lid over the pedestal’s dish.

He stopped his dancing and ceremoniously approached the glowing box. His arms moved with bold sweeps and controlled slashes around it, stirring a cloudy light to fill the inside until it was dense and burning bright.

His dance finished with a loud clap, keeping his hands together in a prayer. He stepped back to the East join of the cakra symbol, carefully lowered himself to the floor, without breaking his prayer hands, and into a crossed leg position. His eyes closed as he chanted a mystical script.

I peered at the pedestal’s cloudy box, which was pulsating with burning white light. An involuntary gasp escaped my mouth as light streamed out of the box in all directions to form pictures in the air. The entire circular room became saturated with colours, light and images to form a scene.

I was back in Gat Shiem, standing in the astronomy book section of the Library Tower, close to the spiral wrought iron stairway that led to the tower’s observation deck of its observatory.

My nose picked up a familiar scent of woody incense lingering the air from where it burned in the room’s shrine. I brushed the scrolls spread out on the benches before me. Tears brimmed my eyes when I felt a papery texture. The dry stuffiness, I used to complain about every time I trailed War on his stacking shifts, made my heart beat painfully.

_”It’s not real. I’m not here.”_ I keep chanting in my head. It didn’t help that my whole body ached with the familiarity of being there.

_”Freend. We home?”_ Small Cap innocently asked. He had been in shock when he woke and poked his head out of the pouch to see himself in the Library Tower.

_”Freend! It home!”_ Small Cap scrambled out of the pouch excitedly, about to take a flying leap onto the bench with the scrolls. Leinard’s sharp order made him recoil and scurry back into the pouch.

_”Colonel’s right Small Cap; this isn’t home. There’s nowhere for you to land.”_

_”It smells, feels like home.”_ Small Cap’s voice was almost pleading for it to be true.

Approaching conversations distracted our nostalgic thoughts and pulled our attention towards the two approaching men who were headed for the spiral stairway.

My eyes glistened with tears when I saw they were Shuso and War, having a leisurely conversation.

_”Can they see us?”_ I asked Leinard telepathically, not daring to utter a word with fears of breaking the image.

_”No. This is nothing but a replay of a past event captured within the nikiaku,”_ Leinard answered.

I cleared my mind by focusing on the event that was being played out before me.

[“Whydidyah want meh to dungeon crawl through the archive basement to get dis ratty lookin’ thing?” War waved a heavily stained and half torn leather-bound book that was almost falling apart at the seams.

“Because Ralwyn’s health is not looking good, since Rawn hit her. I fear she won’t exist for much longer,” Shuso replied with a sorrowful sigh, folding his arms across his kimono of night blue.

War cocked his head to the side with a quizzical expression on his face. What the hell was his batty old Shuso going on about this time? It would be nice if the old man gave it to him straight occasionally.]

The scenery moved and changed at War and Shuso’s pace. I soon found myself standing on the grilled observation deck, before a gigantic bronze telescope pointed upwards to the starry sky visible in the opened ceiling panel.

Shuso had frequently used this tool to keep track of the stars’ movements.

Inside the silver lens dish, attached to the telescope’s base stand, was a sparkling and spanking new marble.

My eyes followed the marble’s journey from the dish, by Shuso’s hand, to War’s fleshy palm.

[“You must not let go of this ball for anyone or anything. It must never leave your body at any stage until it wants to,” Shuso ordered as he coaxed War’s fingers to close over the ball.

War stood with obvious shock on his face. It was the first time his Shuso had ever given him a straight order.

“Okay,” he affirmed, not sure what was going on.

He sighed when Shuso had returned to his usual batty self upon his answer.

“Aah, that reminds me of a story long forgotten, about a time when Sol was not Sol, the Sacred Word was not the Sacred Word.” Shuso began one of his many rambling tales.

War rolled his eyes, bracing himself for another boring earful, but what he heard made his heart beat with keen interest instead. Shuso’s ramblings were tales from the legendary magis he idolised – The Great Magis Isaiah.]

Shuso unfolded Isaiah’s tale of four powers that held control over chaos and order in a world he referred as Not-Sol. They belonged to deities known as the Zaldizko.

The lesser creatures and people of Not-Sol knew and feared these deities for the consequences their power caused.

[“Famine claimed, War broke, Pestilence inflicted, Death negated. Tis the price of the power to uphold Chaos and Order,” said Shuso.]

I detected pain behind his ramblings of what would happen should the world go out of control.

[“Chaos and Order are like a married couple. If they split, this will bring about the wrath of their children. The evil in their children’s hearts will continue to destroy until all becomes null.” Shuso exhaled.]

His voice became laboured as he continued the tale like he was spending every bit of his breath to reach the end.

[“How do we know the children are angry? It starts with the breaking of a star.”]

Shuso’s papery voice dictated a prophecy called the Zaldizko as recorded by the previous Shuso four generations past.

The Great Magis Isaiah saw a star fall one night whilst writing in his book of sacred words. Upon the star’s fall, he was visited by a dark angel who called himself Rawn._

Rawn spirited Isaiah’s mind away, so he could see the world’s future demise.

Isaiah saw his world burn and be destroyed into nothingness. It would come to null and there was nothing he could do about it.

Rawn showed Isaiah a pond with four lotus flowers in full bloom floating on still waters.

Isaiah learned that these flowers were the Hana of the World, which held great powers over chaos and order.

He learned of the seven sealed events that unlocked the end of times.

First Seal: the four Hana would bud in the Age of Apocalypse; one each not of each other, from the four corners of the world.

Second Seal: the unbreakable moon pillars will become breakable by the fire of ages.

Third Seal: the golden sickle will drive the Hana apart.

Fourth Seal: the Hana will break by their own hands until their hands cannot carry themselves any more.

Fifth Seal: the universe becomes one.

Sixth Seal: famine shall claim, War shall break, Pestilence shall inflict, Death shall negate.

Seventh Seal: the skies shall be black as sackcloth; the water will run dry and the beasts of the world are slain. The Zaldizko will ride forth on their steeds to bring about null.

The tale recounted from Shuso’s own mouth was disturbing. I was far from being an expert on the Sacred Word, but even I was aware that Isaiah never recorded tales of Hana or Zaldizko in that book.

[“What are yah saying Shuso? Isaiah wrote no tale like this. I’ve never seen anythin’ about Zaldizko or Hana in tome copies of the Sacred Word,” War questioned Shuso. The angry tones of his deep voice rebounded off the observatory’s walls.

“He did,” Shuso calmly responded. His eyes pointed to the ratty book in War’s hands.

War’s hands shook as he held the book before his eyes. They were trembling so much that it fell into Shuso’s steady hands.

Shuso carefully opened to pages of papyrus that had been cleverly pressed and treated to fit into the book. The yellowing pages held neatly written hieroglyphs from an era long gone; a language only trained magis knew to read.

War’s Adam’s apple ran up and down his throat with nervous gulps as he read the aged hieroglyphs with learned understanding.

It was all there. He saw the mentioning of Hana and the seals. He clenched the ball tightly in his hand when he saw his own name scrawled within those fatalistic passages of prophecy.

“Yah pullin’ meh leg.” War didn’t want to believe it, but he knew his Shuso was serious.

Calamitous banging, shouting and thumping noises disturbed their moment.]

The scene disappeared with white light. I blinked in the view of the theater. I stared around for an explanation and saw that Saku was unconscious on the floor, his clothes clinging to his clammy body and his skin pale.

The doors of the theater room flung wide. I braced myself for the intruding soldiers who rushed at us with swords unsheathed and guns raised. The soldiers flanked the entrances to block off our escape routes. We were given orders to stay seated.

I saw I had, indeed, been sitting in the same spot the whole time. It must have been the crown cakra magic that made me feel I had been standing on my own two feet in that played moment. I felt somewhat relieved.

Some soldiers held out large guns with round box magazines fixed behind the loop triggers. Their long skinny barrels were pointed at our faces.

I observed a distinct difference in the uniforms these soldiers wore compared to those of the Evadale Knights.

Their stiff peaked caps, double-breasted jackets with gold buttons, straight cut slacks and buckled boots were all tan. The motif badges on their caps bore a silver crescent moon. Their faces were clean and the sheen from their uniforms seemed fresh. I gathered an impression that these soldiers weren’t the type to traverse into the bowels of Hell’s Labyrinth.

I tensed when a hand gripped mine. Something wet and round was pressed into my palm.

_”Hold this tight and hide it. No one must get a hold of it,”_ Leinard said in my mind.

I decided not to ask questions on things my brain could never workout such as how he was able to get a hold of the nikiaku ball without anyone realising it.

I clenched the marble tight, carefully moved my hand to my belt pouch, lodged the marble there then returned my hand to my side before anyone had noticed.

“What is the meaning of this?” Leinard stoically called out to the intruding soldiers.

A stocky man in the same tan uniform and wearing a grey overcoat over his shoulders like a cape, stepped coolly into view.

His boots struck the ground, loudly, with purposed strides. A midnight-blue badge of three gold stripes and crown head was pinned, obviously, to his right breast. His whole persona was one of high importance and authority. Yet his round face held a youthfulness that didn’t match up with the image he was portraying.

“Lieutenant Colonel Aueralius.” The man’s brittle voice almost spat Leinard’s name to the ground.

“Commander Appleton.” Leinard responded in like.

My eyes darted back and forth between both men, feeling the intimidation from Commander Appleton’s glaring blue eyes and the defiance from Leinard’s.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Leinard’s voice showed no sign of welcome to the man and his men.

“I have a warrant for an arrest authorised by our District Attorney, the Honourable J.D Weltz.” A nasty smirk broke Commander Appleton’s poker face.

He pulled out a red wax sealed envelope from his jacket pocket and held it up for all to see.

My eyes darted about the faces of all the knights seated with me and was impressed that none of them felt the intimidation.

“If it’s an arrest, couldn’t you have brought it to one of your lieutenants to pass,” said Leinard.

I felt his words was poking a stick at the commander like how Pesti and I had once done when we tried to get honey from a beehive.

“Normally, but this occasion requires special treatment.” Commander Appleton gloated.

I heard Trix sigh.

The Commander handed over the sealed envelope to Leinard.

I heard Leinard’s voice in my mind when he broke the seal and mentally read the contents of the letter the envelope had contained.

_Warrant SD116669 issued for the arrest of Captain Trent Aueralius of the Wisteria Garden Squad for the Evadale Knight Order, for suspicions of negligence in duty with loss of life. He is hereby suspended from duties without pay pending a full internal investigation. The suspect is to be contained under house arrest with body monitoring round the clock._

His reading continued to list the suspect’s rights for an attorney representation and further conditions of his temporary incarceration.

_By sealed authority of The Hon. J.D Weltz._

Leinard’s reading ended with a sigh.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Wilfred’s hands were clenched into fists, so his knuckles were white. Jensen’s expression was burning with outrage.

“Very well.” Leinard calmly handed the letter over to Trix who didn’t read it.

The soldiers cocked their weapons when Trix stood. He calmly removed his monocle patch and approached me.

“Please give this to Saku when he wakes. He’ll know what to do with it,” he said with a smile as he handed me the patch. His fingers tenderly brushed my cheek to stir up a deep blush.

I felt my heart go _badump_ seeing both of his natural blue eyes staring at me.

“Well, Jensen looks like the squad’s under your care for the time being.” Trix gave Jensen a cocky wink.

He stepped before Commander Appleton with his arms behind his head. “If you wanted me that much Miles, you didn’t need to issue a warrant.”

He allowed the soldiers to disarm him, making some crude jokes about keeping his family jewels intact for future play.

“Tsk. Ever the wise guy. Let’s see if you can keep up that cheek stuck in solitary confinement for a month,” said Commander Appleton when he went behind Trix’s back to cuff his hands in silver binds.

“Tend to Saku, Lita.” Trix issued his exiting order over his shoulder as the soldiers escorted him out of the room.

A tense quiet lingered around the team that Trix had left behind.

“How did Trix know that he was being arrested?” I quietly asked Leinard.

“The warrant was read to him,” Leinard stoically answered.

It explained that time Trix had unexpectedly turned up with a stretcher for War.

Lita roused Saku from his unconscious state by the power of a vial of smelling salts she waved under his nose.

He groggily stood up and redressed in his gear. No one said anything to him about what had transpired nor any words to each other when we left the theater.

Leinard parted ways with us when we approached the elevator for the journey back to the Second Tier.

“I’ll see you again Famine.” Leinard cordially patted my shoulder and headed in the opposite direction.

“Let’s go,” Jensen ordered.

We entered the elevator. For once, I was glad of my queasy stomach as we rode the zippy thing. I had something else to focus on other than the thick silence that smothered the air between myself and the knights.

“Zaldizko huh.” Lita broke the silence with a heavy question. “Say Famine, what do you think about all that talk on claiming and stuff?”

I felt the knights’ intense stares on my face and suspected if I couldn’t give them a plausible answer it would be the end of my good relations with them.

I was certain the prophecy was referring to my brothers and me, yet it didn’t make one bit of sense. What did it mean to claim, break, inflict and negate? Did that mean that I was to put in a claim for something that was broken?

Ugh, all this prophecy talk was beyond my brain capacity. I had to give them something.

I swallowed my nausea, stared up to the elevator’s stucco patterned ceiling with further considerations on the matter, then returned with the only serious answer possible.

“I once claimed all my brothers’ ganmodoki when I complained I had none. War can be clumsy, so he tends to break stuff with his big hands like the one-time Bulldog got pissed at him for breaking his favourite cup. Death’s always smoothing out our fights with his clever talk. Pesti, I dunno, maybe he inflicts admiration ’cause he’s so darn adorable and…” My explanation was cut off by roaring laughter.

“Oh, my sides!” Laughed Lita who was doubled over.

Tears were strained out of Ryoko’s eyes as she thumped her fits into the elevator walls.

Saku was looking at everyone with a clueless expression.

“Man, oh, man,” Jensen said with a grin on his face. He slung his arm over my shoulders. “You are too damn cute.”

“Still, that talk from your Shuso is pretty heavy-duty,” said Ryoko once she had calmed down.

“The Captain’s arrest; the timing of it almost seems the working of fate,” Wilfred soberly voiced.

“Yeah.” Lita finished her laughter with a deep sigh.

“I wonder what the Colonel will do about it,” Wilfred thought aloud.

I frowned, wondering why Trix was arrested.

“Why would your captain be arrested?” I blurted and gulped at the deadpan expressions I received in response.

“Well, you turned up unexpectedly and in a high-level demon’s lair.” Lita levelly stated the fact. “That should be impossible.”

“Then the skrit in the West and South Wings go berserk and turn against us.” Wilfred added as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin.

“They cause the deaths of five knights and twenty five prisoners,” Saku commented. “So of course, fingers are going to be pointed at Trix for blame.”

“Why Trix?” Unclear on why any of this would be under Trix’s blame.

“Because he’s the map of Hell’s Labyrinth. He should always know what’s moving in and out of the tiers below the fourth. Nothing should escape his attention whilst the mapglass is on his eye,” Jensen answered.

He pointed to the monocle patch I was still holding.

“Tell me Famine, while we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, how exactly did you get here?” He posed the question to me.

I recounted the facts of Gat Shiem’s burning, being separated from Pesti by the skrit and a skrit dumping me into that lair according to Small Cap’s eyes.

“Hey Small Cap, were you awake through it all?” Jensen surprised me when he directed the question to my belt pouch.

Small Cap gingerly crawled to the pouch opening and poked his head out.

_”Like Freend says, then tree-two-legs put us in sacks. Freend sleeping. Me crawl to sack opening, see scary scar-face-two-leg talk to dog-eye-two-leg. We go in a cart. Tree-two-legs carry us to another two-leg with X scar on the neck. More tree-two-legs come and take us to the demon.”_ Small Cap’s voice filled my head.

I stared at Jensen and Wilfred to see if they had also heard his words and saw their faces pale.

“You say that aside from the tree-two-legs you saw a two-leg with dog eyes, one with an X-scar on his neck and another with a scar on his face?” Jensen summed up with a question.

“Wait, what’s with the ‘X’ scar on neck thing?” Lita blurted.

She was given the order to stay her questions by Jensen’s hand gesture.

“You sure of this Small Cap?” Jensen insisted.

Silence lingered the air before Small Cap answered with a strong ‘yes’ in our minds.

“This is not good.” Wilfred gulped nervously.

“Surely you’re not implying Trix’s predecessor is involved in Famine and War’s kidnapping?” Lita gasped.

“Then we better stop talking about it right now,” Ryoko answered.

A heavy silence hung about the elevator, but for a different reason this time. It continued for the remaining leg of our elevator journey. My relief was felt when the double doors opened with its usual sigh.