level_act39side_01_beg

Two weeks ago

Beginning recording. My sandboard is heavily damaged, and I can't find the materials I need to repair it nearby.

As for my water reserves... They can last me one more day, at most.

Thankfully, the next supply point is only half a day away.

...This many messages? Really?

How long have I been letting them build up?

It's been a while since we received any news from you, Operator Thorns. Remember to report your position when you have the chance.

By my calculations, our mission routes will overlap a bit. If we can find the opportunity to meet up, I've got some spare supplies I can share.

Hey Thorns, how's your trip to find super-ultra-cool sword techniques going? Any good news?

Forget it... I'll reply once I'm done walking.

This region between me and the supply point... All the map shows is a name.

'Mar Pálido'... The Pale Sea, huh?

Hopefully it's not a real sea.

Out in the open wilderness, sand rides along with the wind, bringing with it a salty, finny smell.

Sunlight pokes through gaps in the dark clouds, while long-dry riverbeds boast only a few bushes and shrubs.

Some rustling among them proves that this so-called wasteland is not completely devoid of life.

The young man pulls out a rope and ties together a few planks. Once done, he steps atop them and takes a leap.

All of a sudden, the wastes come to an end. A great cliff has sundered the earth.

As he looks down, Isidro sees a pallid white sea.

With all his strength, he climbs down the cliff. Once he touches down onto the pale 'sea', he reaches down and sticks a hand into the bone-dry 'seawater'.

...Salt crystals?

There is no water here. There is only pale salt, studded with countless skeletons. The remains of whatever unlucky creatures were swallowed up by this place.

But the only thing on his mind is that somewhere, in some nook or cranny he cannot see, there is something flowing, rushing.

He stops sliding on his makeshift sandboard and reaches for the sword at his waist.

That's odd...

How can there be anything alive here?

The ground beneath his feet shudders slightly, and the layer of salt slowly subsides around him.

The trembling intensifies as an indentation in the salty ground approaches him at high speed.

There are fins in a Salt Flat?!

A gigantic beast breaches the salt, catching him off guard. Its sail-like dorsal fin looms overhead, and its pointed, armored snout is shaped like a colossal lance.

It barrels into him, and he is thrown off his feet. His organs feel like they are being rearranged as he arcs through the air, before he slams into the ground and blacks out.

As his consciousness fades, he sees the giant finbeast dive back into the salt, leaving no trace in its wake.

(Good thing... it wasn't hungry...)

*Cough* *Cough*... Just my luck...

That damn alguacil doesn't know when to give up. He even chased me all the way to this blasted land where nothing grows!

*cough* Mierda... Ran too fast, all my water spilled.

What now...

Urgh! Pleh! Bleh! This is just salt! Ptooey!

Without water, I'm not gonna make it to the town of Aarón...

Huh, what's that...?

A gust blows past a pile of salt and dust, revealing two motionless legs sticking out from beneath it.

...Just some other unlucky soul who wandered into the Salt Flat without knowing what he was getting into.

Your bad luck is my good fortune though, amigo. Hehe.

A full bottle of water! Excelente!

*Glug* *Glug*... *Glug*... Hah...

Let's see what else you've got...

The hell're all these bottles and canisters?

Urgh! What in the BLAZES is that smell?! It stings!

Well, whether it's medicine or poison, it should still fetch a pretty penny... Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals? Whatever, mine now.

Huh? Foreign money? What, you expected find a money changer out here? Not even fowlbeasts shit here!

Buuuut... I might have a use for it later. Mine now.

The girl sifts through the man's wallet, finding only a few silver reales alongside some foreign coins and a meal voucher with 'Rhodes Island Cafeteria Soup Ticket' written on it.

At the bottom of the wallet, a glimmering gold coin catches her eye.

She reaches down to grab it, flipping it a few times as she retracts her hand.

On one side, there is a circle split by a horizontal line. On the other, an inverted triangle.

It's heavy... Must be pretty pure.

Wait, I feel like I've seen these patterns before... Aren't they what Juana's looking for...?

Shame. Why're you even lying out here dead anyway?

Well, you've been so generous, I can at least send you off on your final journey, amigo.

Here, have a proper burial.

A thief is nothing but a body hollowed out by greed. They take from others for their own benefit, but satisfaction ever eludes their grasp.

The moment she hears a sword being drawn, she knows it is too late to run. She looks behind her, her body trembling as her muscles refuse to move an inch.

A cleric of the Inquisition walks towards her, his handcannon and rapier decorated with ghastly bleached bones, a deep contrast to the usual solemnity and grace of his colleagues.

All in Iberia know the sheriff's name, but also know how close to madness his mind runs. None dare call him by it to his face. Behind his back, they only ever call him by his title:

'The Alguacil'.

The unreasonable, unfeeling, uncaring Alguacil. The Alguacil that inlays his weapons with the bones of criminals as a warning.

The Alguacil that will chase a criminal to the ends of Terra and back.

I have come to free you.

W—Wait a sec, this is all a big misunderstanding!

My head hurts... And my mouth's full of salt...

No! I don't wanna die! Mercy!

Hmm...?

Aaahh! Save me!

What's going on?!

Why do you struggle? Your death will free you from the eternal torment of sin.

O Most Holy Señor Anastasio, please let me go! See reason, please!

Someone forced me to do it, really! I... I swear on my life! I don't even have it anymore, honest!

If you don't believe me, search me! I don't have any compass! I-If you let me go, I'll take you to them!

If others may impose their greed upon you, then so too will your greed corrupt others.

All who have been tainted by avarice shall receive judgment.

AHHH! Someone, save me! Anybody!

The Alguacil's rapier sweeps across her face, but before it presses against her neck, a black sword swoops in from behind, knocking aside its point.

A golden liquid drips from the black sword's edge, sizzling as it eats away at the salt on the ground, an acrid scent spreading from the splash.

Run.

Th-Th-The dead guy's alive!

I am currently arresting a criminal who has stolen a forbidden relic from the Inquisition, señor. I did not mean to disturb you during your repose.

You're with the Inquisition?

Before you shield this vermin from justice, I pray you first ascertain if all your belongings are still on you.

What?

My wallet...

Your swordsmanship is impeccable. It should be used to shelter the innocent, not harbor criminals.

Geh... Mierda.

...What is this?

Isidro pats down his body. In the depths of his pocket, he feels something small yet hard.

An irregularly-shaped piece of metal. At first glance, it looks like detritus from a factory, but careful examination reveals the fine alchemical symbols etched all across it.

The layers of rust on it appear to have once been some kind of liquid, but even so, it shows a gleaming luster under the sunlight.

And it seems we have discovered where Señorita Pascuala hid her ill-gotten gains. Hand it to me, señor, then leave in all haste.

This is... a 'compass' filled with Corazonix? I thought all the products of alchemy were destroyed.

Oho... And here I thought that none sinless in Iberia would yet recognize it.

The Alguacil turns his rapier toward Isidro, his severe expression shifting towards quizzical.

You have piqued my curiosity, señor. What relation have you with the wanted criminal Aulus? Or rather, where was it you came into contact with him?

I have so many questions for you, Ægir.

How is it you can recognize a sinful product of alchemy with but a single glance? How is it you know of a long-erased school of alchemy?

...It's none of your business, Alguacil.

Oh, but it very much is. You see, most of that discipline's students have died by my blade.

Isidro considers saying something, but the Alguacil's rapier is already pressing against his throat.

...So you are unwilling to submit to the law.

The Alguacil pulls back his sword as he shifts his center of gravity forward. The blade in his hand spins once before coming down in a brutal chop.

Isidro's intuition as a swordsman tells him that this man is a lunatic. Not even the most unorthodox of fighters would wield a rapier in such a crude manner.

The cold gleam of the blade's edge flashes past his eyes. With an instinctual flick of his wrist, he blocks the savage blow.

A rapier is not made for slicing. Isidro laughs inwardly. Brandishing it like that will only cause it to snap.

But then comes a brittle screech of shattering metal, and he sees it is his own sword that has snapped in two.

Half his fractured sword is stuck point-down into the salty soil. Blood drips down his cheek.

Lay down your arms.

Run!

The Alguacil casually brushes aside the rock the girl threw at him. The second he does so, Isidro runs off to gain some distance.

As he runs, he senses familiar vibrations coursing through the layer of salt underfoot. The pain in his jumbled organs crawls up his nerves once more.

The Alguacil's footsteps approach him as the chase continues. Isidro's mind races. He grits his teeth, and without looking back, he sets his sights on a giant skeleton in the distance poking out of the salt.

Hah, none may leave before I have the truth of the matter.

Do you always talk this much?

(Just... a little... faster...)

Hah...

As he runs from the man hounding him, Isidro holds his broken sword high, doing his utmost to fend off the Alguacil's attacks.

He looks behind his pursuer and sees the layer of salt subside, a familiar furrow appearing on the ground once more.

The Alguacil stops. He too has sensed the vibrations.

An earthquake?!

Looks like this is your first time here too.

Before the words have finished leaving his mouth, the colossal finbeast breaches the ground in front of him, sending its prey flying.

As he flies through the air, the man's limbs splay out like a ragdoll. After a moment of soaring, his graceful arc through the sky comes to an end as he meets the ground.

A puff of salty dirt wafts through the air as the sound of his landing echoes through the dry air.

He has not fallen on the most comfortable spot in the Salt Flat. A sharp bone spur has pierced his body. His blood trickles down the skeleton, staining the pale salt below red.

Phew...

Is... Is he dead?

If he isn't, we're in a whole lot of trouble. If he <i>is</i>, we're in a whole lot of trouble <i>later</i>.

Err... What do you mean, señor?

Did you put this thing in my pocket?

It just fell in as I was pulling you out of that salt pile, honest!

Ahaha... Er, do you believe me?

My pockets have zippers.

Ah, then allow me to beg forgiveness for my transgressions, señor. Still, we're both alive, right?

Why didn't you run when that alguacil was attacking me?

Would you believe me if I said I found a conscience?

Look, if you died too fast, I wouldn't be able to get very far anyway... Not to mention you still had the compass. The buyer paid a loooot of money for it.

If I did try to book it, all that hard work would've been for nothing.

Where are you headed?

Huh?

You might have been the source of my problems, but you also helped me out, so I'll return the favor.

I'll get you where you need to go, and then we're even.

Huh? 'Then we're even'... You haven't even considered going on an adventure with me?

Or we could part ways here. What you stole from me should be enough to keep you going for a while.

I... I'm heading to the town of Aarón, up on that hill over there, but it's a good two days walk from here...

Two days? Half a day should be plenty.

Huh? Really?

The girl senses the underground vibrations closing in on them once more. A towering dorsal fin breaks through the salt and sand, rapidly approaching them.

She gawks at him incredulously, but he looks back with steely certainty.

Mind if I borrow your rope? My sandboard's broken.

Stop hitting it so much, you'll crack the wood.

I wanted to make it sturdier.

...It's sturdy enough already. You were the one who fixed it up in the first place. Unsatisfied with your own work?

Señor Silver said this is how I should do my work, if I want to repent.

What's the sin this time?

The widow looks like she's about to give birth, but she won't let me look after her.

*sigh* She must still be haunted by my past sins that caused my wife's death. This is divine retribution.

I think she just doesn't want to remarry.

What are you talking about? It's been two years since this town has seen its last birth. I have to help take care of the child, no? I would never have such ulterior motives...

That's a good point. Most of the people young enough to have kids have already gone. All that's left here are us old timers.

Wait here and—

W—Wait! Over there! Santo cielo, the sky's full of salt!

Saltfins? Or is it a saltstorm?

Doesn't matter, just run! Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!

The cloud of salt and dust swallows up the fleeing townsfolk as they scream in fear.

Soon after, a colossal saltfin parts the cloud, revealing two people riding on its back, one in front of the other. The young man in front pats the saltfin as he extracts a broken sword from its body.

The saltfin digs into the salt crust with its pectoral fins, giving the man a resentful glare before it departs.

He pays no mind to it, instead meeting the townsfolk's fearful gazes as he approaches them.

Sorry to trouble you, señores, but is this the town of Aarón?

Who are you? What do you want?

Isidro. I'm here to find something. Here, my travel pass.

Travel pass...?

(Quietly) Didn't Señor Silver say that nowadays there's a lot of Ægir coming ashore to help us rebuild?

(Quietly) Does he look like he's here to help?

(Quietly) All these outlanders bring with them is disaster!

If I'm to die today, then let me die blocking your way!

Huh? What are you talking about, señor?

H—Hey, let's all calm down now. This is a misunderstanding.

See here? This is my alguacil's badge. The higher-ups sent me and my understudy here to meet the local calificador.

Look, it's real. It looks just like Señor Silver's.

You... He's... <i>He's</i> the student?

He... He had a growth spurt.

Can... Can Ægir even join the Inquisition?

...It's all part of the plans for restoration.

*Sigh*...

I simply cannot keep up with these changing times.

Uh... Thanks. Did you swipe that badge off that guy earlier?

I...

Just asking, not judging. You don't look so good.

I can't... hold it... any longer...

Blurghhh—!

Oh...

I'm just... a bit—

Bleaghhh—!

Saltfin-sick...

Blurghhh—!

Between bursts of vomit, the girl stuffs the badge back into her bag.

A wayward glance shows Isidro a dozen or so of the Alguacil's belongings within bag, alongside a few bottles of his own popper potions.

He is not entirely sure when she took them off him.

...Forget it.

We're even now. I'll be off, then.

You're asking the wrong guy.

I haven't even gotten to the question yet...

Go ask somewhere else.

I haven't even...

Ask someone else.

At least let me ask! I heard there's a local sword technique created by pirates, one that can be used to 'fight the wind and waves'. Does that sound familiar?

P—Pirates? Santo cielo, Aarón will be ruined once more...

Wha...?

It's about to rain! I need to go home to take in the laundry! Just go away! Vete!

...Isn't this your house right here?

...Also, isn't this the driest part of Iberia?

As he voices his doubts, he hears a clattering of footsteps behind him. He turns to see the entire street devoid of people.

As he sweeps his eyes across the street, doors and windows slam shut one after the other in raucous cacophony.

Is it actually going to rain?

The lump of meat in his mouth is shriveled and dry. One of his left molars is loose and hurts like hell itself, leaving him only able to mash the meat with his right gums.

Madre had told him this was the last of the food in the house.

He thinks about how she looked as she threw it on the ground, so tender and caring. He thinks about how she looked as he picked it up, so cold and cruel.

Such contradiction. He blames the jumbled memories on the hunger.

Just as he does not remember if it was Madre who struck that molar loose, or if it was just a new one coming in.

The hunger is too great. He swallows the lump of meat and mumbles to himself.

'This is the last portion. There's none left after I eat it...'

'Where can I find more...'

There is the sound of a knife being sharpened from outside the door. He remembers hearing this noise... before Padre disappeared.

The ghastly truth dawns on him as he feels cold all over.

He recalls how Madre opened the door as she held the meat, a terrifying smile on her bloodstained face. She bade him open his mouth, bade him chew, bade him swallow...

He licks at the empty sockets in his gums. They had hurt, once. They don't hurt any more.

It is only because of sin that he yet lives. He should stretch out his neck and await the axe. In death, all things will be washed away.

The scent of dried blood upon a sharp bone spur has drawn all sorts of small, bloodthirsty beasts. They cannot stop themselves from crawling towards the gruesome wound.

First come insects bearing wings, landing upon his chin, crawling across his pale lips, then his cheek, before finally stopping atop his eyelids.

Just as they are about to enjoy their meal, the man's eyelashes begin to twitch.

Ah...

Anastasio, you sinner. Since when was it your time to die?

Those ensnared by greed, corrupted by that compass. They yet roam free, yet commit evil.

You must find them, purge their avarice, end their suffering.

...This is your duty.

The man slowly pulls himself off the skeleton, the bone barbs and hooks tearing at his flesh as he does.

But he does not tremble in pain. Not even once.

Anastasio walks deeper into the Salt Flat. Behind him, the beasts hungrily paw at his trail of blood.