A Promise Of Death

Silence. A mess of emotions waves over Yoru's face. Surprise, anxiety, sorrow. Grief. She holds Cage's gaze, looking into those unreadable black eyes, like voids that pull on the mind and soul, beckoning them closer, "I... Wh-why do you ask?" Yoru asks, lips quivering.

Cage pauses, organizing the junkyard of words in his mind, "You have already helped me so much, Yoru. Kyro too, and Ingen. I have given you nothing in return, and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to," he says, "I understand that I'm still a stranger, but if it's possible, I want to help. I can see you hurting, even if no one else can... and I want you to know that I don't take your help for granted."

A tear wells up at the corner of Yoru's eye, and though it is shaky, she smiles, "So this is what he meant," she whispers. Yoru reaches over the counter, resting a hand on her student's, "Thank you, Cage," She squeezes his hand, then leans back, blocked by her emotions to realize how cold Cage's hand is, "If you are done with your stew, then we can head to the gate. We will be busy for a while."

Cage nods, smiling. He slides the bowl across the marble, and Yoru takes it to the sink behind her. He did not help as much as he wanted, but Cage feels a weight off his shoulders as he watches Yoru wash the bowls. She is not ready, which he half expected. Still, Yoru now knows that someone is here to help when her brother can not. Even if she never takes advantage of that help, it is enough.

After changing into a sleek black dress, Yoru leads Cage outside and into the streets of Yellen. That blue star shines down on the city, and though they are faint, those swirling colors can be seen behind it. Yoru's home is larger than most, by no small amount. It is toward the back of the city, right on the edge of the section covered by the overhang.

The home is three stories tall and takes up an entire block that smaller homes and shops normally would. The stories seem to be built atop one another separately, each a square smaller than the one below it. So much home for one person.

As they traverse the streets, Cage notices that the city is nearly empty at the moment. It's quiet. They pass several of those vendor stalls, Rajin women and sometimes foreigners putting their goods out to be sold. It seems most Rajin are not morning people.

Cage looks at Yoru, a question bubbling in his mind. She has her normal dignified walk, hands clasped together before her, chin held high, silver hair shining in an intricate high bun. Like a Queen strolling through her city, flowing black dress with one sleeve extending over her wrist reminding the other women what true beauty is, "Yoru?" Cage calls.

"Yes?" Yoru answers, meeting his gaze.

"Who are you?" Cage asks, stumbling, "I mean, what do you do? From what I've seen with Perlo and everyone in the city, you must be a pretty important person."

Yoru smiles, nodding. That hanging earring, a spearhead, swings as she looks before her, "I suppose you could say that. I am a scribe, the head scribe to be exact. To simplify, I record important events as they happen. My main area of work is war and the battles that Rajin men participate in, but I dabble in other subjects occasionally," she says, exhaling hard, "Perlo is a different case though. Just know that he will do what I say, if he wants to live, that is."

Cage nods, a chill running up his spine. Yoru speaks about killing a man so casually. Though with Perlo's temperament, Cage guesses that he earned her ire himself, "I guess scribes are pretty important then," he says, pushing Perlo from his mind. The thought of that sneering, wrinkled face leaves a bad taste in Cage's mouth.

"They are," Yoru responds, turning onto another street, "My people take history very seriously. The heroes of our army, the victories, the advances in weaponry, they would all be forgotten if not for me and the other scribes. Future generations will look back on what we have written and learn from it. They will revere those that came before them, all from words on a page."

Cage nods, sightseeing as he listens. They pass half-built structures, hammers banging nails, and saws cutting wood. The workers all wear those black leotards, standing on scaffolding. Collectors. Several city guards surround their work area, standing silent, watching. So this is what Kyro meant by work. Every Collector has their weapon nearby or on their person. Cage still thinks it strange that Collectors are allowed weapons.

Though according to Ingen, that is how it has always been.

Cage looks at Yoru, "Why not have soldiers write it down? Wouldn't that be more accurate?" he asks.

Yoru scoffs, "Men do not write. They are taught basic words to read signs and things of that nature. But mainly, they kill and protect. Writing, advanced reading, art, cooking. Everything that does not involve a weapon is left to us women," she responds, raising a brow at Cage "Accuracy, you say? No matter who is writing, the man is the one telling the story. And one thing has become apparent after all these years spent scribing; men love to exaggerate their feats. They want to be heroes, worshipped as the greatest warriors to live. I do not blame them for it."

Cage nods, taking the words in. It makes sense. What man would not want to be a hero, their name spread through the generations to come, spoken about like legends that no man after them can even hope to match. Even Cage himself finds the prospect alluring. It makes him wonder about the journey ahead, one that will most likely take him across this universe. The Praesi.

Above all else, Cage must find his brother. There is no question about that. If he must, Cage will rip his way through this massive tree to reach him. The only person that still remains from a life he barely remembers.

Even so, can it be wrong for Cage to make a name for himself along the way?

"Here we are," Yoru says as they walk, that massive iron gate meters before them, the creatures and hammer-wielding man popping from the metal, engaged in a furious battle.

Cage looks above and around the gate. White-robed guards stand on the wall and to the sides of the iron, weapons in hand, silent. He stares at one of them, a familiar face. Perlo. Cage furrows his brows as a question pops into his mind, "I've been meaning to ask, won't it be at least a little strange that I'm going in and out of the city every day?" he asks.

"Yes, normally," Yoru responds, "But as I have said, Perlo will do as I say," she looks at Cage, yellow eyes shining, "Listen to what I am about to say and relay the story to Kyro. Perlo will undoubtedly try to catch us in a lie if it means he can be released from my grips."

Cage nods, and they arrive before the gate. Just as expected, the Guard Captain steps up before them, face blank as he bends at the waist in a bow, "It is good to see you on this fine day," he says.

Yoru looks at Perlo, hiding the pure hatred in her eyes with a hollow smile, "You as well, Perlo," she responds, "My student here needs to exit the city. He will return before noon, and I believe it would be in your best interest to see that he is allowed to pass."

Perlo raises his head, smiling as he glances at Cage, "We will see to it that he returns to you," he says, looking at Yoru, "Though I do have my worries. You see, the man was wearing a collectors suit when he arrived, everyone saw it. I'm sure you understand what that might implicate. It would pain me to see your student... disappear. He did just get here after all," the Captain smirks, as if catching a day's worth of fish all at once.

"I can see how you would be worried. I thank you for that," Yoru says, "However, there is no need. My brother found him in the branch on his way back, unconcious and alone. Cage is a Trezeran, and was traveling from his home planet of Azelah when another vessel struck his own. It worries me to think of his fate if Kyro had not found him, he is weak from his long journey after all."

Perlo pauses, glancing at Cage. Though it isn't long before that smirk returns, "I apologize, but I find it hard to belie-

"I am sorry as well, Captain. My tongue has been quite slippery lately. Words that would be better off not said seem to flow from me against my will," Yoru says, smiling, "I urge you to be conscious of my time. As you know, I am a busy woman."

Perlo grimaces, scowling at Yoru. The mask of respect is gone, he knows he has been stumped. The Captain must have done something terrible to be this powerless. But even more than that, Cage realizes that his teacher is not the virtuous, perfect woman that she presents herself as. In his eyes, Cage is beginning to see that she has problems, many of them. But she is strong, and will use anything and anyone to achieve her goals.

Cage respects the Rajin woman, even more than he already did. Even if some of her means are slightly underhanded.

Perlo looks back at the top of the wall, waving at the guards standing there. He turns back to the duo as the gate opens, expression tired, defeated, "Will this be the only time?" the Captain grunts.

"I am glad you ask," Yoru responds, "But no. My student will be here at the same time everyday, except when he isn't," she walks up to Perlo, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, "You will not speak about this, and you will not touch him. If I find out you've done either of these things, I want you to think about the things you've done when that blade comes down on your neck," Yoru says, straightening her back and smiling.

Perlo pauses. He nods, the creases in his face deepening as if the man is aging by a year for every passing second. The Captain turns and walks to the side of the gate, shoulders sagging, spear hanging lazily from his fingers.

Yoru turns and walks back to Cage, "You remember the way to the Collector village I hope?" she asks.

Cage nods in response.

"Good. When you return, come to my home. I may not be back when you get there, but don't worry. I won't be long," Yoru says, gesturing to the gate, "Off you go."

"Yes ma'am," Cage says, walking toward the gate. Though he can not see it, Yoru watches with furrowed brows as he walks, "'Yes ma'am'?" she whispers.

The iron slides to a close behind Cage, the sun shining on his pale skin. Does he still get sunburned? So many things are different, Cage is not sure. Even his hearing is different, stronger. He shivers thinking about the last thing Yoru said to Perlo. Those words were not a warning, but a promise.

Cage takes a step, and something rises in his throat. His eyes widen, and he runs to the side of the stone path, where the grass spans as far as the eye can see. Vomit rushes from Cage's mouth is a furious torrent, splashing on the grass before his sandaled feet. It does not burn, like normal vomit should. Quite the opposite. His throat becomes cold as if his breakfast is turning to ice as it leaves him.

Cage pants, bending over with hands to knees. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staring down at what just left his mouth. Still recovering, Cage is too gassed to even be surprised at the black sludge that used to be food. Small wisps of black smoke permeate from it, a strange familiarity to them.

Something becomes concrete in his mind, something he has suspected since being in that cave with his two saviors. This confirms it.

Missing a limb, oblivious to this new universe, gaining strength but still weak compared to the ones around him, and now, unable to eat normal food. There are always problems arising, no matter how many are dealt with.

Cage stands straight, gazing down at what he can only call vomit. He chuckles to himself, looking up to the sky, "Anything is better than returning to that place," he whispers, "Anything."