Hydaelyn Role-Players

"The Rising Claws backed on their treaty." Memith's voice through the linkpearl into Ki's ear. 

Ki's initial reaction was to blow a smoke ring as he cast his gaze at the shimmering water before him; his white coat dancing on the breeze that was rolling off the water.

The miqo'te couldn't say he was particularly surprised.  He knew he was supposed to stay out of Coerthas.  That had been the treaty, had it not? None of Memith's organization that far north in exchange for no "Claws" inside Ul'dah.

But Ki had personal business with a dear relative there and he would be remiss to have missed their meeting.  Ki had gone in, spoken, and left.  Far as he had been concerned, no one had seen him leave or enter.  But didn't matter what he thought.  This was where they were now.

The weathered miqo'te flexed his jaw.

"Don't see how this is a surprise, Boss.  They were looking for any excuse."

An excuse I gave them  Ki thought with a degree of amusement.  Leave it to -him- of all people to set off the proverbial powder keg that had been developing between Memith's organization and the Rising Claws.  Ki was already in hiding cause there was a nice bounty on his head thanks to the Rising Claws.  This conflict was about to go from cold to hot unless Memith worked some diplomacy magic.

"Ki, why don't you just sit your ass down where you are and wait?"

Raziel on the pearl that time. Big Au ra.  Ki rolled his eyes.

"Big Guy, considering I'm the one that -didn't- get my ass kicked recently, why don't you watch what you say?  And for you, Boss, way I see it, you have two options.  Either tell them where I am and hope that draws the heat off you, or get ready for the carnage."

Ki blew smoke as he waited.  Memith was young, but this, this series of events she had initiated when she left the Claws and set about beating them at their own game was going to change her forever.  Ki was old enough to know when that changing point was arriving for someone.  This was hers.  And Ki was just the hired goon along for the ride.

"I take it you've dealt with things like this before?" Memith said, taking a slow breath, obviously in thought.

Ki smirked at that as he looked at the water before him and watched it ripple.  Thirty-five winters now he had been on this earth, and he had spent so much of his life watching or arranging death.  Conflict was his art.  He wasn't the best or the brightest. But was he was experienced.

"Boss, there is very little the "Claws" could do that I haven't seen before, let alone something that would surprise me."

Silence.

The line went dead.

Ki had expected that.  Memith's commanding body would now decide what to do.  Ki had a suspicion what would happen.  Memith cared for her employees.  After all, it was her that had ordered him to hide.  She would want to do the loyal thing.  But her other members would convince her in time that the -hired dog- could handle himself and it would buy them time.  Betrayal was a concept Ki was intimately familiar with, and his body was covered int he scars from those actions.

The mercenary blew more smoke and watched the water ripple.  It was so peaceful here, in the moment.  Here, a miqo'te could forget the silly troubles of the world.  Just leave it all behind and be a man on the land.

But that wasn't Ki.  The miqo'te smiled a toothy smile as his golden eye danced in the reflected light of the sun.  He reached down and patted his coin bag, which jingled loudly. 

Ki killed for the glittering coins in his bag, and, it would be hypocritical of him to not be willing to die for it.  Money made the world go round and round.  People fought for territory and ideals and concepts of right and wrong.

Ki wasn't one of those.

Ki had worked for all sorts of people who had tried to change the world.  Funny thing was, he had outlived, or grown far richer than them.  Ki was a survivor.  He had survived things far worse than a few assassins.  If they wanted to find him, Ki would be waiting.  With his little bag of toys ready to go.

Ki had to earn his pay after all.

The church near Drybone had always been a favorite place of Ki Grimsongs. 

Why would be a question even he couldn't be sure.  He relished the memories he had here.  Enjoyed the somber nature of the place. And the reminder of unavoidable death kept his quest for material wealth in perspective.  Everyone had to die, so why not die filthy rich?

The deserts winds outside were gusting. A storm was brewing and the atmospheric pressure was beginning to fall.  The air was growing heavier and the speed at which sound traveled was increasing because of the higher density of air particles.

It was because of this natural phenomena that Ki heard the spurs jingling as the person wearing them walked towards the church door.

Ki was seated in the first row of pews.  His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were closed.  His right ear was flicking up and down every four seconds and the earing that looked like a bomb shook each time. 

Smoke wafted up from the smoldering cigarette that was pressed between his teeth and a pile of ash had fallen onto his white coat.

The sounds of jingling spurs grew closer and then the groan of wood as the doors to the church opened.

Immediately Ki rose.  He spun on his right heel while pulling his firearm free from it's holster. He aimed it at the figure in the door that stood in deep shadow as the afternoon light swarmed in.

A second figure stepped beside the first and Ki could make out an elezen frame.  The male miqo'te blew smoke as he recognized that the first figure was a hyur.  Both men wore long, black coats.  The elezen had a long sword at his side and the hyur was slowly twirling daggers as the pair seized up the armed miqo'te.

"Well then, let me guess. Rising Claws?"  Ki said, his voice smug. 

The two figures made odd expressions and looked at one another. They exchanged a questioning look and then turned back towards Ki.

"Not even close."  the elezen said, his voice smooth.

"So, are you hear for my head? Cause this is really awkward if you aren't."  Ki chuckled as he drew the hammer back on his firearm.

"And if we said no?" the elezen said with a shrug.

"Probably still shoot ya cause I would think you are lying to me." Ki answered honestly.

The elezen gave a dark smile.

"In that case, we are indeed here for your head, Grimsong." 

"Well, you better get in line. Cause the list of people who want me dead is a looooong one.  How'd you find me, anyway?" Ki asked,genuinely curious.  The elezen shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"That would be telling and, since you'll be dead, it'll be a waste of breath."

"You are welcome to try and kill me.  But it may not go so well for you." Ki took a deep drag off his smoke and then spit it out.  The cigarette spun through the air, smoke tracing its track.

"We'll see." the elezen smirked.

Five Minutes Later

Noxious yellow gas was wafting out of the church and into the air from doors and windows.  The doors of the church were full of bullet holes and the rising winds were making the dust outside roil about.

From the billowing, black mass of the church's dark interior, Ki emerged.  A gas mask synched tightly to his face.  He carried a bag in his left hand and his firearm in his right. 

His head was dancing about, looking for his attackers.  He had lost track of them in the gas blast.  Thunder rolled overhead and he caught the shape of two figures some distance down the road.  Ki blinked behind the lenses of the gas mask.

"Damn they are fast."  the miqo'te panted, his breaths harsh through the respirator unit.  They had moved with almost impossible speeds and it had taken several dirty tricks to stay alive.  But he was still alive and that's what mattered.

"My church!" came an anguished cry from the graveyard.  The priest was rushing around to the front and gawking.

"It's fine. Just fumigated some bugs.  Wait thirty minutes and you should be able to go in and breath without dying just fine."  Ki was calm he spoke.  The priest scowled at the miqo'te and his gas mask.

"Get out of here!  You cause me nothing but trouble every time you are here."  the priest grunted in anger.

"Yeah, but you keep letting me back." Ki chuckled as he adjusted his bag and began walking toward Drybone. 

Even through the mask, Ki could smell the coming rain and thought that Wetbone would make a better name for Drybone.  The fact that it was still a desert after raining every time he was there, confused him. 

But he didn't worry about impossible geographical occurrences to much.  He planned on walking right through the storm.

He was in a dangerous spot.  One employer was now to the north.  Another safe home might be compromised, and his list of allies in Ul'dah was dwindling as 'Ishgard Madness' took more and more north.  Ki would end up there soon enough. But not yet. He still had one pay check paying out and he intended to follow it as long as it kept showering him in gil.

"Good old, Boss." Ki chuckled.

"Too many open doors."  Ki mused as his mismatched eyes watched his blood ooze down his wrist and muscles forearm.  Ki's left hand was slowly digging the point of his large bowie knife into the palm of his hand.  The running crimson made him lick his lips as he pulled the point of the knife free.  A single line of blood traced its way down the metal blade.

A small piece of shrapnel fell free of the wound and bounced on the earthen floor of the small building Ki was sitting in.  The miqo'te flexed his bleeding appendage to make sure there was no remaining shrapnel with in his flesh. 

Satisfied the was not, the male took the blade and licked it clean with his rough tongue; the salty, metallic flavor of the fluid remaining in his mouth after he had swallowed it.

"Far too many open doors."  Ki repeated, putting the knife down. He took the bottle of whiskey beside the blade and splashed some of the amber liquid onto the wound.  His face tightened and he grunted before he proceeded to pick up a roll of gauze and  bandage his wound.

"First  Beardy, now Memith, Sis, and Orenji.  So many sources of gil, so many people to kill.  So many chances for surprises."  Ki ran his bloody tongue over his lips as he continued talking to himself  "Two million for Flynt, the pleasure of Rae's demise, and a hundred more besides.  I'm not going to be able to spend it all."

Ki thought back on the past few weeks.  The alliance, wars, and inevitable conflicts he had been drawn into.  And through it all, gil kept pouring into his lap.  He was starting to feel lucky.

Ki narrowed his eyes.

Lucky.  That was a dangerous feeling.  Every time he had felt lucky in the past, something bad had always followed. The high before the low.  And right now Ki had too many balls up in the air to keep his eyes on them all and anticipate the inevitable surprises.

Though he was less afraid of the coming low.  Most people he knew, he could stab in the back easily. Some he would even relish in the chance.  And the few he might hesitate to remove by his own mechanations were held so remotely from his emotions that their demise would be recoverable. 

Least that's what Ki hoped

Emotions had a funny way of defying his objective and materialistic mindset and if he wasn't careful, he would fall prey to them once again. And right now, he had plenty of people trying to claw those emotions out of him.  People who wanted to care about him even though he kept telling them to knock it off and stick with just paying him for his blood money.  He had no intention of caring for anyone and watch them get ripped from him ever again.

Ki grunted and took a chug from his bottle.

"Only gil, only business, I'm only a dog of war."  Ki muttered, taking swallow after swallow of the burning fluid until his emotions were numb and all that mattered was the coin he earned by doing others dirty work.  Nothing else.

What makes a person a monster?

When they kill or hurt others?

But a wild dog kills to eat, yet we don't consider it a monster, just an animal.

So...it would be when those things are done for reasons go beyond the need for simple self preservation or are for personal pleasure that it makes a person the monster?

Exactly.  Does one demonize the dog when its master tells it to kill and it does what it has been trained to do, or does one demonize the master that unleashed the dog and taught it to kill?

Ki opened his eyes, the memory of a once insightful conversation departing his mind as he exhaled the air in his lungs.  Smoke he had inhaled from the smolder cigarette burning between his lips wafted onto the air.

Ki was sitting on a small, wooden chair that sat surrounded by wooden furniture.  The room he was in belonged to a old, worm eaten cottage in the more overgrown parts of La Noscea.  A wooden table sat before him. Atop the table was a bound hyur.  The hyur's eyes were wide as he looked at the miqo'te sitting beside him.

"Please..." the hyur pleaded.  "I have a wife and child.  They-"

"Your life story really doesn't interest me."  Ki replied, his voice dry as he pulled out his large bowie knife free of its shealth and began to run a whet stone along the polished blade.  "I was paid to kill you, so I'm going to do it."

"Then why not just kill me already?!" the man choked on a sob as he shouted.  "Why are you dragging this out?"

Ki looked at the blade in his hand and tested the weight.

"Cause someone dear to me is dying and I need something out of you.  Figured this was a win-win for me."

"I-what do you, hells take you!"  the man spat before he sobbed angrily at his situation. Ki rose to his feet and went over to a box.  He lifted the lid and puffs of cold steam sprung up. The male miqo'te inspected the interior of the container before shutting the lid.  Ki slowly returned to the table, his boots echoing around through the room as crickets chirped outside. 

Ki stopped and looked down at the hyur.

"You're a monster." the hyur glared.  Ki chewed on his tongue as he scowled.  Then Ki shoved his knife into the man's throat. He pressed down with the point and severed the hyur's nerved endings and dislocated the spinal column as he drove the point between two spinal disks.  The hyur's body jerked violently but life had already left the shuddering husk.

The miqo'te looked down at the table and the pooling blood; then to the hyur's frozen face.  Ki pulled the blade clear and cleared his throat.

"Not a monster, just a dog."

Ki flicked his pointer finger and the thing he had been holding in his hand spun.

The miqo'te male opened his mismatched eyes and looked down at the table he was sitting beside.  On the wooden surface spun a smooth, polished gem with a runic symbol etched into it's surface.  The stone refracted the light of the oil resting beside it all around the room.

Ki chewed his lower lip as he listened to the distant ocean's roar.  In a nearby room, his dear friend was fighting for life, his sinew binding him to this world breaking.

The mercenary exhaled as he watched the stone begin to slow and then fall flat.

Ki reached over and picked the soul stone up.

There was dried blood on the stone.  The last remains of the victim Ki's allies had tracked down and almost slaughtered for the stone.  The victim had managed to slip away but not with the stone. And the stone was all Ki cared about.

All his newest employer cared about.

"Tengri..." Ki said the name as if it was a vile poison.  The male looked at the stone in his hand.

This 'Tengri' was an enigma, and that bothered Ki; who's life was in the hands of this man he knew next to nothing about.

Ki should be elated.  All he had to do was bring the Au Ra five soul stones. In return Ki would be paid several million for each one.  The deal should have given the money grubbing merc the largest hard on of his life.

But he couldn't get his hair to stop standing on end.  Something was horribly wrong with the whole deal but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Ki was just a hired thug. He knew that and Tengri claimed to know that. Said he had hired Ki cause of his reputation of getting jobs done.  Cause Ki had networks.

But Ki wasn't that well known.  And to know Ki had networks was to know who the networks were, and none of them knew Tengri, so how could Tengri know him or them?

Further, why hire a thug when a scholar or intellectual, well versed on soul stones, would have been the smarter -and- more affordable option.

But at the same time, nothing the au ra did was threatening, but that bothered Ki even more.  No one was so professional to a mercenary with a renowned history of betrayal such as Ki had.  Further more, Tengri's female assistant had spoken words that had alarmed the miqo'te and almost set him off.  The fact that she had used those two letters before correcting herself....

Ki grunted and placed the soul stone down before rubbing his forehead with his right hand.  He had a massive headache from thinking about this over and over and it was causing him to waste valuable time.  Time he could be sleeping.  Time he could be spending with...

Ki paused to smile as he leaned over and sniffed the collar of his coat, which still smelt of her.  That powder keg of a woman...

Ki's eyes lifted and his smile fell as he looked at the grimoire lying open on the table.  The book was a gift from the necromancer "Mask of the Seven Horrors Hidden in Nald'Thal's Mists" and on its macabre painted pages were spells and rules of the necromancer's black arts which Ki had been trying to read to understand the terms of the rituals he sought to have the necromancer perform.  Ki recalled -why- he had been collecting so much gil and what he was paying the necromancer for.

Once Ki had been so intent and unwavering in his goal.  Willing to give the necromancer -anything- he needed for the ritual Ki wanted.  But there had been problems and delays.

Ki rose to his feet and went to the window.

The necromancer claimed he couldn't find the soul in question, and without a usable, original host, other options were needed; and Ki was questioning if he was willing to make those options happen. The mercenary was wondering if he should let the past stay the past and move on. He had a new chance at life. People offering him more than gil, and even someone he found himself growing amazingly tender towards.

Should I really bring the past out from its grave? Ki thought. Would -she- want that?

Ki narrowed his eyes.  That idea made him bite his lower lip till blood squirted out.  The warm liquid ran down his chin.

He had seen the dead rise up before; with his own, damned eyes.  And from the way Mask of the Seven Horrors Hidden in Nald'Thal's Mist had spoken, the original body wasn't needed in the event of....

Ki turned back and gazed at the book and the soul stone with a look of utter dread.

A few moments later Ki was out the door, the book of unnatural magics under one arm and the stone in the other.  He passed his friends door and paused to nod.

He then stormed out of the inn into the night. 

"You're thinking like a madman." Ki growled as his mind filled with phantasmal horrors.  But his gut was knotted.  If he was right....

Ki had killed so many...

Ki had sent his allies looking into the background of this Tengri and found nothing. Nothing in this world had really turned up.

Perhaps all it was was Tengri was a brilliant individual.

But perhaps there was something more.

Ki knew he was thinking irrationally.

But Ki knew only a necromancer could confirm or disperse his wild, nightmarish thoughts.

Ki opened the door to the small, wooden shack that was tucked into the mountain wall.  The miqo'te was glad to be entering the building.  Walking from Drybone in the middle of the horrific sandstorm had been a test of his endurance and fortitude; and the mercenary was sure he had sand in places he had never felt before.  Ki shut the door behind him and pulled up his goggles.  The sight of the horror slammed into him the same moment the smell did.

A hyur was sitting in a corner in a chair.  His hands and feet had been bound with chains so tightly to the chair that the fingers and toes had turned purple from the stagnated blood.  His nude form was covered in dozens of cuts and a pool of crimson had collected under him.  Sticky foam bubbled from his shredded lips as he he wheezed painful breaths.  It sounded like a few ribs might be broken.  His half opened eyes stared at Ki, pleading.

"Ignore that one." came a dry whisper of a voice. Ki felt his hair stand up.  He turned his head to gaze upon the speaker. 

The necromancer called Mask of the Seven Horrors Hidden in Nald'thal's Mists, or Myst as he was called for short, sat in black robes on the floor.  A hood was thrown up over his head and his face was covered in a porcelain mask painted with strange symbols.  A blue pentagram was outlined around the robed male and a circle was sketched around both symbol and mortal.  Candles burned at the five points of the star and large mounds of wax had been melted already.

"Wouldn't it be smarter to just have me kill him?" Ki grunted, swallowing his unease. Despite the mercenary's frequent, secret meetings with the necromancer, Ki was no more comfortable with the man now than when they had first met.

"Souls are like fine wine.  The longer you age their death, the stronger the soul becomes.  That hyur has been dying for nearly four days.  He will be most powerful indeed when he passes." Myst's voice was dry but held a hint of criticism, as if he was educating a simple child about fine cheeses at an elite tasting. "But enough of this, why are you here? I told you I would contact when I found the soul you seek."

"Change of plans." Ki grunted, pulling out a sheet of paper.  "I need you to find out something for me, urgently. I'll pay. Big.  Have a list of ten souls here. Need to make sure they're all still rotting in the hells."

"Ohhh?" Myst gave a dismissive clicking sound.  "Need I remind you how difficult it is to locate -specific- souls that have been beyond the void longer than seventy-two hours?  You already know it could be years before I find the one I'm looking for presently.  You might be dead yourself before I find all ten."  Myst crossed his arms and, although Ki couldn't see the man's face, knew the necromancer was wearing a smug expression. His voice dripped of it.

Ki growled and swore. 

"I'll pay whatever you need, just-"

"It's not about money, Grimsong.  It's about-" the sound of several children screaming filled the air.  Ki lurched back against the wall and pulled out his knife.  Myst sat motionless for a few moments as the screams trailed away.

"What in the hells?!" Ki exclaimed.  Myst waved his right hand and blue steam rose from it. 

"Not important.  Back to our topic.  It's not a matter of money, Grimsong, its about how large the void is.  And how well Nald'thal hides the souls.  So, unless you have an army of necromancers as talented as myself, and you don't, you will need to be patient."

Ki sheathed his knife and chewed his lip.

"I don't have time to wait.  Look, if-"  there was a gust of wind that started out of nowhere.  One of the candles blew out and Myst looked at the dying hyur.

"Be quick, Grimsong. That man is about to die and I will need to bind his soul.  Best you are not here for that."  Myst's harsh whisper was louder than Ki thought it could possibly be.  Ki felt his palms grow sweaty as he took the door knob in his hands.

"If you could meet the person I think is dead, could you tell me who they are and if they are dead?"

"A free-willed deceased?"  Myst's voice held a hunt of curiosity, though his head remained pointed at the dying hyur.  "You think this person in question is an angry ghost come back from beyond the void for revenge?"

"I don't know." Ki grunted, suddenly wishing he hadn't come here.  "I could be totally wrong.  I probably am. They could be alive, but-"

More wind blew and another candle went out.  The air began to grow colder and Ki suddenly saw his breath on the air.

"But you want me to confirm if this person is alive or has died to put your mind at ease."  Myst finished Ki's sentence for him.  "You are not the first to seek me for such a service.  I do hate meeting people but..."

Ki tossed the soul stone he and his allies had taken onto the floor. 

"The man wants that stone.  Paying over a million gil for it.  You take it to him in my place as my agent, you keep all the gil.  I don't care if you can tell me who they were or are, but if you can tell me if they have ever died or not it-"

A howling scream like a skewered wolf filled the air as a third candle blew out.

"Would be money well spent."  Myst cackled, though his voice was strained, as if he was under immense effort.  The hyur began to writhe in his chair and fell over.

"Very well, Grimsong.  I'll take the stone to this man in exchange for the gil once you contact me and let me know when and where. Then you'll have your answer, though I promise -nothing- beyond the most basic of information you seek, and even with that said, if they are a powerful entity, I may not gleam out the information you seek. Now get out."

Another candle was snuffed out.  The shadows grew long and filled the cabin. Ki could swear he could see things in the darkness, pressing outwards.  Ki tried to opened the door but felt as if something was trying to keep the door shut. Voices reached his ears and he snarled.

He used all his strength and the door finally budged.  He stepped outside and slammed the door shut. 

The duststorm still raged around him but he sank to his knees and threw up as an old proverb ran through his head.


To what ends is dragged my soul by the means which I employ?

Tengri now had a soulstone and Ki was a million gil richer.

Ki had decided to keep Myst in reserve.  He had wanted to meet the au ra again. And Ki had brought an ally this time. 

Tengri had been elated.  Thrilled. Ecstatic. Hell the Au ra had danced on a table.

But that was the thing that bother Ki.

For a individual so -well informed- he acted so naive about these stones. 

Ki took a sip of his whiskey as he looked out at the sprawling desert from the Golden Bazaar.

So these aren't a myth.

That line the au ra had said...

It bothered Ki.  Bore into his head like a needle into his brain.

Sure Ki was a million gil richer, but he was also all the more confused.

"Adin."

If there was a way for Ki to say the name with more disgust, he didn't know how.  How much of his life had been in the shadow of that man?  How many threads of his being were woven and created by that man?  How much suffering stemmed from that man's existence?

His continued existence.

Ki's lips curled.  It shouldn't be possible.  The laws of physics were set. It was a simple cause and effect reaction.  You cut someone's head off, they are dead. You stab their heart, you bleed to death.  You burn them to ashes, they die.  Yet Adin was proving that the second law of thermodynamics was insufferably accurate.  Matter was not being created or destroyed and the bastard somehow endured on in life instead of death.

"Is death just a revolving door these days?"  Ki snarled as he looked down at the snow filled streets of Ishgard through the window of his room.

He heard a soft moan and looked back at the form resting in the bed. He sighed and felt a sense of fear twist him.

What would happen to Nahare? 

Ki looked out the window again.

What would happen to everyone?  The game of daggers and hoods was about to begin in earnest.  This was a dance Ki had played over and over and he was tired of stepping out onto the dance floor.  Tired of watching his back every time he met with someone. Tired of telling half-truths to everyone and lies to most.

Ki had tried running before.  It didn't work.  He had tried fighting back.

How many employers had he stabbed in the back?  Too many.

And Adin had been the first.

Snow was falling and the fat flakes of frozen water danced on the still air of the sleeping city.

Melkire had told him what he wanted done.  Course that hyur had.  Melkire was the kind of man always wrapped up in the middle of everything.  The literal lynch pin of Eorzea.  And now he was wrapped up in Adin's plots.  Again.

Ki's exhale frosted the glass and he licked his lips.

Tengri was a pawn for Adin.  Ki wanted to wring the au ra's neck.  But that would give away the secret.  Ki had to keep playing the game now.  And Ki planned to tie up all the loose ends this time.  There would be no escape for Adin. Not this time.

Ki pulled out a linkpearl from a box that sat on the window sill.  He looked at it and then slipped it into his left ear.  He pressed it and spoke softly.

"Myst."  Ki said the name with a swallow. He had gone to the necromancer so many moons ago to revive a dear dead one.  Now, he had other designs for the necromancer.  What made him worried was that Myst likely had designs of his own.

"Grimsong."  Myst's whisper of a voice answered, smug and drawn out, like a yawning cat awakened from a nap.  "To what do I owe this intrusion of my privacy?"

"We need to chat." Ki answered slowly.

An annoyed clicking filled the linkpearl.

"I do ever so much hate conversation, even with you, Grimsong."  Myst as clearly annoyed.  "Whatever is so pressing?"

"It's time you handed over that stone."  Ki replied.  "And there have been some developments."

The line was silent and then:

"This is your issue, Grimsong.  I'll want a fresh stack of -material- for my time."

"We already agreed to the gil."  Ki replied with a growl.

"Things change.  See you soon."

The line went dead and Ki stared out at the falling snow. 

Ki didn't like dealing with Myst anymore than Myst enjoyed talking.  But Ki needed the necromancer now.  He'd pay whatever the necromancer's price for the peace of mind that this time, the dead -stayed- dead.

Ki just hoped he wasn't trading one evil for another.

The smell of grapes was strong that morning in Wineport as Ki sat on a stool beneath the shelter of a covered patio.  The sky was a heavy grey as a steady rain continued to fall.  The rain had been falling all night and showed no signs of stopping.

The seeker was smoking and watching the falling rain. He was hunched over and his hands were clasped together as the gentle wind tugged at his long, black coat.

He had been waiting for several bells now and was growing concerned.  The sun hadn't even been up when he had left Nahare alone in their bed and tip toed past Nataru sleeping on the floor to come and wait here.

Nahare was sick and getting worse and the last thing he and Nataru needed was for Nahare's condition to get worse with Myst's arrival.

It was half a bell and three more cigarettes later before a figure appeared at the gate of the vineyard.  Dressed in a set of leather traveling gear with a large, hooded cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Myst looked unsettling normal. If it weren't for the bizarre mask the necromancer always wore, Ki might have not paid the trudging figure any notice.

Ki sat up straight, grunting as his stiff back protested.

The necromancer pulled off his hood, his wet, jet-black hair falling down to his chin.  The icy blue eyes studied Ki from behind the mask.

"You're late." Ki remarked, crossing his arms.

"I wouldn't expect a barbarian to comprehend the art of navigating an airship in a tempest."  came the hissing whisper of Myst.  Ki noted the agitated flick of Myst's tail beneath the cloak and was momentarily surprised at the almost normal reaction from the traditionally objective spell caster.

"You fly an airship?" Ki was genuinely surprised.  Myst gave his inhuman clicking nose.

"No, I just farted myself here and decided it would be absolutely splendid to romp around the mire for a few hours."  Myst snapped.  "You're quickly depleting my already dangerously low patience with these game of yours Grimsong.  Be grateful I find some measure of worth by our continued confederacy."

"You were well compensated in gil and that wagon load of corpses we delivered." Ki spat out his smoke at Myst's feet. His hair was prickling but he held his ground.  "Now what did you find out about Tengri during your meeting?"

There was a pause from the masked necromancer and a low clicking noise like gnashing mandibles filled the air.

"Enough to know that -you- are working for someone you can't handle."  Myst spoke slowly, as if addressing a foolish child.  "I can confirm he is a living bag of flesh just like you. But The collective strength of Tengri's aether flow places him outside of your capabilities to contend with."

Ki chewed his lip and stared at the mask.

"I thought you said you were the best."  Ki remarked with a snort.  "Yet that's all you were able to uncover?"

"Grimsong."  Myst clicked his tongue.  "You are aware of the displeasure I take in conversing with living meat bags. Especially ones that have forced me to endure unnecessary expeditions to the remote pits of Eorzea.  For this conversation, you will be supplying me with additional payment."

Ki growled.

"Now look here-"

"The stone." Myst interrupted and held out his left hand, palm up.  "Or you can find someone else to go and look into the eyes of that au ra.  Perhaps you might find a spine and do it yourself."

The mercenary snarled and rose to his feet.

"Watch your tongue, pleb."  Myst hissed before Ki could speak.  "You came crawling and blubbering to me.  You continue to employ me cause you -need- me. Not the other way around.  Apologize to your better and give me the stone, or I leave with my additional knowledge of this Tengri held with my mind"

Ki was visibly shaking as his fist clenched but he did not strike the necromancer.  Ki -did- need the necromancer. At least for the moment.  But the way the necromancer was beginning to strong arm him was agitating.  Ki reached into his pocket and pulled out Berrod's soulstone.  The seeker slipped his thumb over the stone before handing it over.

Myst took the stone and observed it.  There was a strange noise from behind the mask and then the necromancer slid the soulstone into a pouch on his belt.  As the soul stone of Berrod went in, something else came out.  What it was, Ki couldn't be sure.  The necromancer's gloved fingers clenched around the item.  The ice blue eyes starred at Ki's mismatched optics.

"That's better.  Now,take your glove off and hold out your hand."  Myst ordered softly.

"Why?" Ki growled, suddenly suspicious.

"If you want more information on Tengri, you will do as instructed."

Myst watched intently as Ki glared back. It took a few moments but Ki began to remove his glove.

Whatever expression Myst's face was wearing, Ki couldn't see it.  But Ki could hear the smug satisfaction in the whisper as he extended his hand.

"What are you doing?"  Ki swallowed, defiant but clearly apprehensive.

"You call yourself Grimsong, but had a recent discussion with a certain soul whom told me of some interesting things about your past. Of another name you went by."

Quick as a snake, Myst slammed his gloved hands around Ki's outstretched hand and pressed in something cold.

"And of knowledge I might covet from you."

Myst's eyes were glowing blue and the smell of burning metal filled the air.  Ki's body was frozen.  His hand began to burn and then the pain spread. Within a moment it felt as if his body had been filled with thousands of burning white embers.  His muscles twisted and knotted.  Ki felt his mind being tore open and deep things observed. Ki's vision went red and he tried to scream but Myst's left hand  covered his lips as he opened his maw and hollered in agony before his mind went black.

Ki slumped over onto the deck. He was writhing but clearly unconscious.

Myst stepped back, the thing in his right hand glowing white hot and smoking.  The necromancer cast a quick look around and then turned, pulling his hood up over his head and stepping out into the ran.

No one had seen and if they had, what would they say?  He was masked and rarely came to this pathetic pebble amongst the ocean's furious grasp. 

The mud squelched underneath his boots as the rain continued to fall.  He strode quickly and it wasn't until he was several miles away that he paused to open his hand and look down.

There, in his open palm, shone a blood red soul stone with a strange rune etched in its surface.  The rune had not existed on that stone till it had touched Ki's flesh.  But now it was very evident in the polish surface of the stone. 

Myst ran his thumb over the stone.

"Hello, beautiful."

So much had happened.

His future seemed bright for the first time in a long time.

Something beyond gil in how many ages?

Friends. 

A mate. 

And now to be a father.

Ki had become a man who had much too loose.  Many weaknesses in his armor.  Weaknesses he had sworn to cast aside.  He had only gained them back tenfold.

And now all of that could be taken away.

By the very man who had before.

Ki snarled as his tightened his grip on Mihk'a's throat.  Blood oozed down Ki's arms from the tears in his flesh Mihk'as nails had made.

Ki didn't care that the boy was his apprentice.  Didn't care that he cared deeply for the boy.  The boy was being a fool. Willing to subject himself to the whims of a madman. As Ki''s dagger plunged into the boy's gut and twisted, Ki knew he was saving the boy from his own foolishness and the slow death it would bring upon everyone.

Ki watched the young keeper male shudder in his grasp.

I won't lose those things that are precious to me. Not again.  Even if I must kill you, Mihk'a, to safeguard them. 


Ki's thoughts were dark but he snarled as the boy sunk is nails into muscle and kicked free, shoving himself free of Ki's grasp as the muscles spammed open and the knife slid free. 

The miqo'tes' combined blood rained onto the ground as Mihk'a staggered back and pulled out a small item.  Ki's eyes went wide as the grenade's pin fell away.

"Aw hells."  Ki muttered.  There was blinding white flash and then an explosion.

Ki was sent flying backwards, the left arm that was been extended splintering and a few ribs cracked as the blast blew him onto his ass. 

Ki hit the ground and rolled, smoke wafting up from his body as he bounced to a stop.  The mercenary lay groaning.

"My own trick used against me." Ki gasped as he clutched his chest with his right arm.  "I taught him too damn well." 

Ki spat blood and took in deep breaths.

So urgent was his need for oxygen, he failed to hear the approaching footsteps. The walking figure's shadow fell over him and there was the sound of shifting boots as the figure came to a halt.

There was a silence.  Then a voice, flat and calm, spoke.

"Well, well, isn't this an unexpected meeting.  What a delightful kindness this one has received."