Guys, I see people ahead! There's army!
That way... er, seven? Seven o'clock?
Oh, no worries, we got the message.
But are you sure that's what you saw? There's not a hint of human life anywhere in these parts... Why would the army be patrollin' out here?
Hand me the binoculars.
There's very little terrain nearby that would conceal us. Everyone, please hide here for the moment.
I'll go with you. I'd know the Victorian Army more thorough than you, na?
...Mm. Thank you.
Selmon, come take a look... If I crouch under this rock, the enemy won't see me from any angle, will they?
Hah, not half bad.
Good, then. God, we go through the wastes for four days without a peep, no Catastrophe or savage beasts... and then we hit a roadblock at the very end. Just our luck, you figure.
Now stop sticking your head out, keep low with the rest of us. It's been so long, you still don't trust Reed's lot?
No, as a matter of fact. It's the bland type like her I least trust.
She only wants to do stuff that doesn't offend nobody. That way, if she ever makes a mistake, it won't really BE her fault.
You bloody... You just don't like her stopping us from going to Dublinn.
Maybe. But I don't say nothing to you neither, do I?
...Confirmed. It's a small-scale Victorian deployment, but judging by their equipment, not from a nearby barracks.
Their weapons are highest caliber. If we fought... there's very little chance we'd win.
They might not be searching for us, but just in case, we'd better hide ourselves. Based on their current advance, they won't catch sight of us.
You don't give me lip for what I say because nobody listens to what I say.
Anyhow, I'm jealous of how she's taken over my show.
...Those troops are coming closer. Budge over, give me a good position to watch 'em.
*sigh* I'm begging you, don't cause trouble now.
Wh—What's happening? Are they scuffling?
...Some group ambushed them at a pass.
S—So if we'd not stopped to hide just now, we would've been sprung too? Who was waiting there?
Hey... I can't make out too clearly, but those clothes they're wearing look a bit like Selmon's, don't they?
That's gotta be... Dublinn, right?
......
...Dublinn.
One dawn eight months ago, just after I'd finished work, I was eating breakfast in a cafe in County Peninsula.
A voice came from my radio.
It said, with their flames, they would cleanse Victoria of filth.
In the name of the Tarans... they would declare war on Victoria.
They called themselves 'Dublinn'.
...Just a bunch of greedy thugs trying to give themselves a title.
Thugs?
The ones common sense would identify as thugs more or less all died in County Hillock.
Someone intended on using an entire city of Tarans to test the Taran-born Duke... but didn't anticipate the leader of Dublinn conversely exploiting that.
After the conclusion of the incident, Dublinn successfully purged all unstable elements from the city, and further gained the surrounding Taran populace's support, escaping intact directly under Victoria's nose.
Dublinn's leader is undeniably well-versed in the behavior of nobility.
It's no wonder, considering her background and her hidden supporters.
That leader and her intelligence personnel are both fully aware it was the barracks that shelled the masses with dirty bombs, that being why the truth of the County Hillock incident will never be traced nor pursued.
However... I've read the reports. All the reports.
Some say the Dublinn 'Leader' that appeared in County Hillock on that day... is more than one person.
That doesn't match up with the other intel we got from the Dukes.
Have you seen these two jigsaw puzzles?
They're exactly the same...
As long as the forms are identical, they can fill the same holes. And the moment you put them together like this, most people who cast an eye would treat one piece like the other's shadow.
...Shadow?
So that's why you suspect that previous arson case, the one tied to Dublinn...
It was only a suspicion at first.
It was, until... the reaction from that Harmonie Feline fed me some interesting information.
Who knew the Duke of Wellington would actually turn a blind eye to King Gaeil's other descendant walking freely in the wilds?
......
Madam, as you predicted, someone took the people from those farming households in for questioning this morning.
I looked into it. They weren't wearing barracks uniform. it seems they're not part of the nearby patrol at all.
Hm... say, if I asked for a holiday and went out traveling, what would the better location be? Leithanien, or Kazimierz?
Or maybe I'll run off even farther... just maybe, like my good friend from the school days, I'll take a trip to Yan?
...I don't understand what you mean.
*sigh*.
Forget it. We'll be caught in a snare if we don't tiptoe... but either way, we do need to remedy this as best we can. Ensuring her safety is priority number one.
You mean...
My dear friend, Loughshinny.
You're sure she's the one they're looking for?
Well, can you be sure she's not?
We've got no other choice. Who let her be 'The Leader' too? We can't allow her to fall into anyone else's hands... especially not the Duke of Caster's.
Come, now. We need to pay 'The Brigadier' a visit.
Selmon, what do we do? You said you'd take us to shelter with a Dublinn squad, and now they're right here in front of us, fighting with Vic's army.
My gut says we should head in and help the Tarans' troops. My brain says we need to show some loyalty before we join them... I mean, right, right?
No, no, what are you people on about?! We'd never beat those servicemen!
A—And besides... what would Reed's lot think?
They're hiding over there. They're not that near us. Maybe they won't see what we're doing.
Oh, God, down goes another...
...We can't just sit here watching Tarans get beat to death, can we?
...Fionn, take a look behind. How are Reed's bunch reacting to this?
All men, pull back! Prioritize shaking pursuit!
Our investigatory mission is complete! We can't waste our time here. Dublinn's deployed far too many diversions.
Captain, human activity at three o'clock.
...Who are they?
Seemingly normal refugees, with improvised weapons.
Initiate contact, confirm the true situation. All men, prepare to fight on two fronts.
Beware the possibility of Dublinn's regular forces disguising as civilians.
Hey, what's he doin' pokin' his head out from the bunker?!
Oh, the unit noticed him. They're comin' over.
I'll try and see about negotiatin' with them. I'll tell them it's all civilians here.
No. Tara's local barracks—would never trust civilians...
...They've never protected us before.
......
Hah... hah... hi—hi there... we're Tarans, we want to join Dublinn...
......
...Hello?
Guh—wh—what the hell?!
Fall back!
...Retreat ASAP. These two units are attacking us simultaneously.
But aren't Dublinn... meant to be defending Tarans?
...I can't give you a response. All I know is these soldiers are already dead.
Standard piledriver spear, Vouivre... you're ex-Tempest Platoon personnel, aren't you?
Oh! Have we met before?
Well, since we're not strangers, that makes things easier. We're not an ambush, and we've got nothin' to do with Dublinn either. You've gotten the wrong idea about us.
...Hah, surprise, surprise. That Fischer boy only sent me out here to follow a trail, and here we've run into his true goal headfirst.
No, I'd wager he sent me here specifically to wait until you ran into us.
Bagpipe, why are you protecting the Tarans?
Eh? Because that's our duty, right? The Tarans are Victorians too.
If we've cleared up the misunderstandin', are we able to ceasefire? Attackin' civilians is a violation of military discipline.
...What gives you the continued right to say that?
Eh? What's wrong with me?
You seem to not be duly aware of the situation here.
Oh, excuse me, I'm very well aware.
My friend said you wouldn't protect Taran civilians, and I've just confirmed she was right.
You're the same as that old Colonel Hamilton back in County Hillock, na?
So even though I'm discharged? I'm positive now, I still have to fulfil a Victorian serviceman's duty, and do what you're not willin' to do—
Defend these civilians' lives.
Then let me ask. Have you ever inquired into that white-haired Vouivre's identity?
C—Come on, let's go, Selmon...
Everyone's looking to escape!
...No.
Ugh, now's not the time to be stubborn!
I know this is hard to take, but... what Ch'en said seems true... so, let's get away for now?
Come on, survive first, then we can talk after...
...Who's that you're staring at? Wait, it can't be...
......
......
...Bro.
There, Fionn... Your wound is like last time's. It's not too severe.
But—it'll still hurt.
Nrgh, that's whatever... as long as I don't see blood. Anything else flies with me.
Coward. You said you'd help Selmon. All you've done was scarper with her on your shoulders.
N—Nothing wrong with that, at least we made it out. All of us made it out.
...*sigh*.
Reed, I need to ask something... I've been wanting to ask it all day.
You and your friends seem to be professionals with this stuff. But—I still just don't get. Why do you say those people... those Dublinn people are dead?
Is there any off-chance they're sleepwalking? Maybe it's that witchcraft from the legends that makes people lose their consciousness?
Just... just on the off-chance, that they are sleepwalking, we could go and wake them up...
...We can't. I wish I could provide you some consolation, but—it's a unique Originium Arts I recognize.
*sigh* Alright. I'm just a little frightened myself. What's Selmon gonna think, though?
What's... wrong with her?
......
Oh, go on and tell, Fionn, we all know her. You were the one vouching for her since the beginning. She's a good girl. We wouldn't have come with her otherwise.
The... the truth is, I actually know her because she robbed me, once.
We sat down and got talking with one another in the end, of course. She just wanted a pair of sturdy boots. Her brother was out in the snow that winter with half his soles worn through, feet frostbitten something hideous.
So you gave her yours?
No, actually. Her brother went off to Dublinn. I was only in time to cover for them. Couldn't do them any solid boots quickly enough.
Fact is, she's been out here this whole time looking for her brother.
What? She brought us to join Dublinn just for that?
No, it's more than that, it's...
She wanted to join Dublinn along with her brother, she just ran away on the way there. That was two years ago.
...Think how tough it must've been on her, catching up to her brother today.
...Say, how do you think my family's doing?
They're still back living in the village. It's about time they replaced the roofing straw. Once we find a place to stop over, I'm getting a Messenger to ask how they're doing.
It's alright, I'm sure they're fine. I'll help you find that Messenger, come then.
Grand.
...But where are we going? We chased a Dublinn squad that was all dead people, and Selmon's not found her own. Where should we head now?
*sigh* Reed, what do you...
...Reed? Where'd she go?
...Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen... three less than in the day.
...I just don't get it. What kind of Originium Arts is this? Makes me sick looking at it.
She squats behind a boulder, looking around.
The soldiers keep marching for their heart's destination, upon the twilight wilds.
The colors of the Dublinn uniform fade beneath layers of mud and soil. They seem as if held in a silhouette, one lit by a glimmer from somewhere unknown.
I just need to... pounce, then retreat, and I'll be fine.
A hundred meters.
They turn to walk straight for the boulder Selmon hides behind.
Tch, he's at the back of the squad. Looks like he didn't get to be the leader. Made himself out so bloody big in all his letters.
They're headed for... yeah, same direction as the letters said.
Fifty meters.
Selmon clenches the wooden cudgel in her fist.
...Is the city you're heading for that important to you?
Who's telling you to head on? You'd still go, even if you died?
Even though you're being battered by—wind, and rain, and all these people one after another? You'd still go?
Thirty meters.
She remembers the first time she saw Dublinn's troops, two years ago.
They told her, once she was decided, she could come to them. The Leader would give all Tarans a place to survive.
...I'm sorry.
I... never could be as sure as you were. You never looked back, but I did.
She rushes out.
Like those Victorian soldiers in the daytime did, like Ch'en did, these people that have ceased to be can be knocked down again, so long as every attack comes swiftly enough, ferociously enough.
Until they'll sleep peacefully in the soil of Tara, never called to stand again.
......
—!
The soldier does not fall.
He merely stumbles for a moment from the blow to the neck, and then swiftly spins around, pulling out his sword.
He is ghastly silent.
......
You lot! Out of my way! I'll send you all right back with him!
No, I will, I'll do it!
I was just here to find my brother, but you're all the same...
(Silently attacks)
—Piss right off! At least say something!
Grgh...
Square, that was...
Hah, bloody hell. Head, chest, it's just not enough, is it.
Her cudgel flies out of her hand blocking the next attack.
And in that moment, the soldier's mask falls off.
—
She feels a sort of illusion for a moment. As if the way he brandishes his weapon slows, for a fraction of an instant.
As if her brother is about to give him both his hands, like when Victoria's police accosted them in younger times, shielding her in his embrace.
And then she sees his familiar face all so clearly.
His forehead drips no blood, and his eyes turn no look to his little sister.
Those eyes gaze to the distant, vague horizon, a rage of firelight longing, burning within.
—Just like the night he decided he'd seek out Dublinn.
And Dublinn soldiers surround them. Selmon blankly, dazedly, reaches a hand out to the man before her.
Admiration, aspiration, guilt. Regret.
All swallowed up by the ice-cold fire that her fingertips brush.
Fear.
All she is left with is fear. The fear of that longing, maniacal, burning unto death.
And before time can move again, flames blaze high, incandescent sparks blossoming into the night sky.
So close her fingers could almost touch, a flame blooms forth, and vanishes again before she can grasp it. The soldier falls over, to the ground, and never makes another whisper.