Глава 13

The 'Royal Court', and perhaps, 'The King of Sarkaz'.

But still you bestow this aspect on me.

Our rotting bones will never again be given new life, should annihilation reach its destination.

And yet... that is the rule.

We sound the Knell for all, for others, for ourselves.

But it is a necessary burden.

If you feel our timeworn inheritance has been reduced to naught but a stepping stone to new life, then it is for you to ascertain that yourself.

Supposing that does not change your mind—

—then 'from death comes new life'.

I rest the whistle to my lips.

...*exhale*.

My, my, now, well done.

Oh tender little Lord of the Banshees, for whom does your first fledgling Knell toll?

...For myself.

For the Royal Court that would rot, past and future all.

The Sarkaz must write a new verse.

'What meaning is there in a stagnant landscape?'

With the words, power bursts forth.

This is…

The Vampire's witchcraft.

But the Vampire could never construct the landscape we were just in. I fear there's some other presence helping him.

What is the Vampire planning to do with these Arts Circles?

Laboring to keep Amiya supported, the Doctor lifts their head with some worry, taking in the giant, sanguine-colored crystals.

The loop here isn't even complete. But... some of its symbols are legible.

'PURIFY'.

It's trying to affect our blood somehow. Affect Sarkaz blood.

This Artistry... is tied to the Sarkaz's power.

The Doctor gives no response, seemingly lost in thought.

Hey!

Heh, they finally ran out of patience.

I detected them long ago; a handful of boorish wanderers. The derangement of our spacetime was masking their figures, and now, with the mist abated, they finally show themselves.

Already, the silver glint in Ascalon's hand has cut across their necks, while bone-writ incantation blocks their attack.

A clump of dirt? It's crude as a child would be.

Wait!

I told you they were real!

Those ghosts were the real deal!

Ah, it <i>is</i> a child.

Is that you...?

Does the Doctor know this Sarkaz girl?

Uhh...

You're that, uh, 'Doctor', right? I saw you once in the munitions factory in Highbury!

What are you doing here?

And the knocked-out Cautus, and... Sarkaz?

You were supplying goods to refugees in Norport.

How did you know that?!

Don't—Don't let it slip! I was just, uhh—

I don't think that Cautus girl is looking too good, is she? And your arm is all...

I, um, I'm gonna guess you guys are... fine hanging out with these Sarkaz?

I think we ended up back where we came. But did we do it for real this time?

I've met enough haloed monster things for one day. This is out of whack.

Paprika, what are you talking to the ghosts for?

One... in a hood, one unconscious bunny, and a Sarkaz?

No! Driver, they're real!

As in real?

This Sarkaz steps up to me, skeptically looking me up and down.

I can tell with a glance that she's never taken the battlefield. Her hands are callused in the wrong places.

Just now, did the young Paprika girl call her Driver?

Hello.

Blaagh!

Miner, come check this out, it's real!

Your... your clothes must've cost some money, didn't they?

Maybe take a closer look! No, never mind, trust you Ursus bumpkins not to know.

Quit it with the 'ooh I'm from Kazdel' already, Shopkeep, like you matter! All you do there is run a grocery store!

Oh, wait, forgot, you sold your store so you come pick fights out here! Ha!

Shape UP a little! Stop getting carried away in front of people!

Hello, hahah... you may have met me in Kazdel before. My grocery store was a fairly popular one...

The man nicknamed Shopkeep rubs his hands, eyeing me with ingratiation.

His dagger is equipped with an auxiliary Originium Arts control apparatus; never an affordable piece of kit. A shame it's all-new, dagger itself included.

You... must be part of the Royal Court, yes? I can tell by your regalia... I take it you're the—Child of Soil and Stone?

So he hasn't the first clue about any Court at all.

...I am the Banshee.

A boy Banshee? I thought Banshees were meant to be all girls?

Correct.

Huh. Never heard about any boy Banshee while I was in Kazimierz... uh, not that I mean to be impolite or, you know...

Paprika, you're friends with celebrities like him and you never told us?!

Uh... no, I dunno if we <i>know</i> each other...

Are you moving things?

Inside their truck, I notice an uncovered spot, where a few blood-streaked crystals are poking out.

Where are you transporting these goods to? Aren't these ritual materials?

Er... I don't really know how to explain. We're just patrolling along our route map, 'cause some Arts Circles might be a little damaged, and we need to repair them.

The Doctor makes brief eye contact with me. I have some inkling. A Sarkaz truck—a vehicle that can take us through the battlefield.

With Amiya's current condition, we won't be rendezvousing with the main unit on foot.

I can sense Ascalon all set to go in the shadows, ready to strike at the amateur squad before us.

But evidently, the Doctor already has a better idea.

Noble Banshee, sire, we won't cross the battlefield alive at this rate. I beg you, just let us go.

I can comprehend the Doctor's gist, but... I'm really not well-versed when it comes to this.

I commandeer your transport squadron. We are on a special mission of the utmost nature, but were assailed en route. For your assistance, I will memorialize you forevermore.

Haha, it'd be our honor to serve a member of the Royal Court, Your Highness!

It's just... being 'memorialized' by a death-tolling Banshee... doesn't seem like much of a fortune. Could you...

Here is your payment.

Thank you, coins that Mechanist stuffed in my bag.

Haha! Thank you, sire!

But our transport duty...

I'll explain to your superiors afterwards.

A special mission? Why bring these two outbloods along?

...They are my captives.

Captives? But you, um...

Okay... but once this is over, you guys are gonna come see General Manfred with me.

For now, we'll go sort out some positions.

The Doctor comes to my side, voice grave.