CCXII. | Ch. 212: 'A nest of Elders...' (Patreon)

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Chapter Two Hundred Twelve: 'A nest of Elders...'

The Gaolanet's estate struck quite an imposing figure in the twilight of the evening. According to the research Hector had done, this place was called the Sparrow's Roost, and seeing it now, Hector could understand why. It sat atop a tall hill overlooking much of Gray Rock.

And the birds.

They were all over the place--perched atop the front gate, in the trees, in the bushes, and on the various surrounding buildings.

They had decided not to bring any of the King's attendants with them, so Lynnette was the one driving. The central courtyard was so large that the car was necessary to traverse it, and as they passed giant bird statue after giant bird statue on their way toward the main house, Hector was beginning to see a pattern. Even the large water fountain at the end of the road was of a flock of birds mid-flight.

The five of them exited the vehicle, along with the four reapers who accompanied them.

Apart from Hector, King William, and Lynnette, the final two members of their party were Matteo Delaguna, who accompanied Hector whenever he left Warrenhold, and Diego Redwater.

Hector still wasn't quite sure why Diego had decided to tag along, and he suspected that Diego didn't know, either.

They'd been somewhat concerned about bringing someone with such a famous last name, but Diego promised to be discreet. Apparently, that meant wearing sunglasses and a fedora.

Matteo, whom Hector still didn't really know all that much about, was wearing a butler's uniform for some reason.

The Gaolanets' own butlers were waiting for them on the steps of the main entrance, and one of them took their car for them as they proceeded into the enormous mansion.

Beyond the most minimal pleasantries, no words were exchanged.

Hector had to admire the building's architecture a bit as they walked. He didn't recognize the style at all. There were so many hard angles in the woodwork. The front hall's ceiling rose to a very high apex, and metal bars hung halfway out from the walls near the top. Some of the ceiling's windows were open as well, and after a moment, Hector noticed more birds hanging out up there.

Geez.

It was a wonder there weren't white poop stains all over the floor's jet black limestone, Hector thought.

As they proceeded on, it soon became clear that this place was even bigger than Hector expected. It couldn't rival Warrenhold or Bosliat Palace, certainly, but there could easily be hundreds of people living here comfortably. Maybe not in just this one building, but across the entire estate? Definitely.

Hector decided to consult Garovel. 'How many souls can you sense around here?'

'Quite a lot,' the reaper said privately.

Another question occurred to Hector, and he realized that it was something he'd been wondering about for a while. 'Can you pick out reapers in a crowd? Like, do their souls have a different aura to them or whatever?'

'Not exactly,' said Garovel. 'As far as my senses go, reaper souls and those of normal humans are identical. However, it is sometimes possible to tell when one is nearby based on context clues. Usually regarding movement. If the soul is flying, for instance. That's usually a good indicator--though not always, of course.'

'Hmm.'

'Another indicator is when I sense a soul that's very "floaty." That one's less conclusive and requires me to really concentrate, but it can work. When normal humans walk, they bob up and down a little--or side to side, sometimes. But reapers just float.'

Hector found that odd. 'You can't sense a person's legs moving? I remember you saying before the body is like a vessel that the soul conforms to the shape of. Or something like that.'

'Yes, but movement is a bit... blurrier, I guess. And my ability to sense souls is not exactly like sight. It's not a perfect analogy.'

The party arrived in a spacious chamber with a gigantic rug that filled it almost entirely. There were several sofas and chairs along the walls, though the largest grouping of them sat in front of an enormous fireplace at the far end of the room.

"Please, sit and make yourselves comfortable," said the head butler. "My lord shall be with you shortly."

They congregated near the fireplace, which was only meagerly alight at the moment. No doubt, it could've held a roaring bonfire, if necessary.

As they waited, the King and Diego struck up a conversation, but they spoke softly enough that Hector couldn't really make out what they were saying.

While the relative silence drew out, Hector's mind returned to Garovel. 'So, uh... you really can't tell if the Goalanets have any of their own reapers around?'

'That, I cannot,' said Garovel, again with the echo of privacy. 'The souls all seem pretty normal to me.'

'And no aberrations, right?'

'Not that I can tell,' said Garovel, 'but those are difficult to sense at all until they're right in front of me. Then they're obvious as shit.'

'Oh yeah. Hmm.' Then a thought struck him, and he knew at once that he had to ask one more question. 'Hey, what do reapers look like to you?'

Garovel regarded him for a moment with that hollow gaze of his. 'Care to guess?'

Hector's mouth flattened. 'Not really.'

'You sure? Honestly, I've been wondering when you would ask me that for the longest time. Seems a shame to just come right out and tell you.'

'Garovel...'

'C'mon, just take one guess. It'll be fun.'

Hector mulled it over for a second. '...Giant pandas,' he said for no particular reason.

'What? No. Why would you guess pandas, of all things?'

'I dunno. It was just the first thing that popped into my head.'

And somehow, the reaper looked positively disgusted with him. 'What about my personality or my history made you think that I would see my fellow reapers as giant pandas?'

'Garovel, I really didn't think about it that much.'

'I can tell.'

'Hey, you never said my guess had to make sense.'

'Doesn't matter. Your guess sucked so hard that I want a do over. Take another crack at it.'

Hector had to hold back a sigh. 'This is getting annoying...'

'Guess one more time. And think about it a little harder.'

'I don't want to know that badly, Garovel.'

'Guess. Again. As my servant, I order you.'

'Wow.'

'Think about it carefully,' said Garovel. 'I bet you can get it right.'

Hector's eyes drifted over the room another time, looking for an excuse to leave this conversation, but everyone was still just waiting for Hanton to arrive. 'I really don't know, Garovel. Could you give me a clue or something?'

'Hmm, alright. What do I like to do best?'

'Uh...' As Hector thought about that, only one answer came to mind. 'Fuck with me?'

'Yes, exactly!'

He was still confused, though. 'How is that a clue?'

'If I told you that, I'd be giving it away.'

Hector shook his head. 'I don't understand. Do you see reapers as, like, visible manifestations of sarcasm or something?'

'That's an interesting thought. What would sarcasm look like, exactly?'

'Hell if I know. I give up. Just tell me already, please.'

'Okay. Well. Don't be mad.'

'When you say that, it makes me want to get mad.'

'The truth is, it was a trick question.'

'Are you fucking kidding me?'

'Nope. Heh heh.'

Hector didn't even know what to say and stared blankly at the crackling fireplace.

'Reapers all see each other the same way. We don't see a bunch of weird personalized shit like you dirty corporeals do. We just see normal human beings, albeit with a slightly ethereal tinge to them.'

'...That's it?'

'Mmhmm.'

'...You're an ass.'

'I know. But I had to spice it up, right? It's kind of a boring reveal, y'know?'

'Whatever.'

'Though, I suppose there IS one aspect to it that's slightly less boring, if you're interested.'

'I'm not.'

The reaper laughed. 'C'mon, don't be like that. It's kinda neat. I promise.'

'Right, because you're so trustworthy.'

'No need to be hurtful. Here, I'll just tell you. No games, this time.'

'Oh, boy, lucky me.'

'Our appearance is based on what we looked like when we were alive,' said Garovel.

And Hector waited, but when Garovel said nothing more, he had to say, 'Um... so what? That's exactly as boring as I imagined.'

'No, but if you think about it, isn't it curious how reapers are able to perceive a physical likeness that we have no personal frame of reference from?'

'...I guess so.'

'Your lack of enthusiasm for this ancient mystery is very disappointing, Hector.'

'I mean, what's so mysterious about it? You can apparently see light even though you don't have eyeballs, so... this shit seems pretty easy to believe compared to that. Maybe your physical likeness, as you imagine it, is just preserved in your soul or whatever. And then that gets projected onto what other reapers see.'

'Alright, Mr. Fun-Killer. Geez. Just rip my heart and stomp on it. That's fine.'

Hector exhaled a laugh under his breath. Then he heard the door behind him open, and everyone in the room turned to look.

"Good evening, all. I am Hanton Gaolanet." The man's voice was a wondrous thing, deep and smooth as butter. There were a few silver streaks in his otherwise brown and feathery hair, and his white suit with dark red stripes was certainly eye-catching. "Welcome to my home. You, especially, Your Highness."

The King was already standing to greet him. "Thank you for having me, Hanton. And I do apologize for the short notice."

"Not at all. It is a pleasure to host royalty." The man glanced in Hector's direction before returning to the King. "But you have made me curious? Is this purely a social visit? Or is there some matter in particular that you wish to discuss?"

"Purely social," said the King with a smile. "I know how irregular this is, but I have to come to think that, now more than ever, it is important for the nobility of this country to spend time together. Strengthen our bonds, if you will."

"I see." Hanton returned a smile of his own as his pitch black eyes lingered on the King for a long moment.

While the two men were exchanging pleasantries, Hector had to consult Garovel again. 'What do you think? Sense anything weird about him?'

'Not in the slightest,' the reaper said privately. 'But I didn't sense anything strange about Malast, either, and we both know how that turned out.'

'You're not seriously suggesting that this guy is another fucking god, are you?'

'Of course not. I'm just telling you to stay on your toes.'

Hector appreciated that reassurance, but he also couldn't completely put that concern out of his mind, either. There was just something about Hanton. As he observed the man, Hector kept trying to figure out what this strange feeling was in the back of his mind. It wasn't soul pressure. It was just... unease. A feeling like something obvious was being missed.

He hated it.

The King began making introductions. "This is my bodyguard for the evening," he said, motioning to Lynn, who was standing by his side now. "The White Sword of Atreya, Lynnette Edith."

"I have heard of you, of course," said the Lord Gaoalanet, shaking her hand. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, young lady."

"Thank you, sir. It is good to meet you as well."

"And over here," said the King, motioning to Diego, "this is my new manservant, Dietro."

Diego stepped forward without missing a beat and shook Hanton's hand. "It is an honor, sir."

Hanton's gaze lingered on him. "Quite."

Hector was a bit surprised by how easily the King and Diego had pulled off that lie. Had they discussed it beforehand?

"And finally," said the King, "we have the young Lord Darksteel of Warrenhold, Hector Goffe, and his man, Matteo."

Hector stepped up for his turn to shake Hanton's hand, as did Matteo immediately thereafter. He returned his gaze to Hector with another smile. "What good fortune. When the King sent word of his arrival, I had no idea that you would be accompanying him, Lord Goffe."

"It was a bit of a surprise on my end, as well," said Hector. "But I hope it's not too much of an inconvenience. There are a few things that I'd like to talk to you about."

"Ah." Hanton's smile diminished somewhat. "Looking for more investors for that bank of yours, perhaps?"

Hector wasn't surprised that this man knew about all the visits he'd been paying to the other Atreyan nobles. "No," he said plainly.

"Oh?" said Hanton, looking around at the others before settling back on Hector again. "Then perhaps you could enlighten me as to the motive behind your visit."

Hector glanced toward the King, who was just observing with a raised brow. Perhaps it was a bit soon to just launch right into the heart of the conversation, but Hector didn't want to waste the opportunity, either. "I was wondering... if House Gaolanet has ever had any relationship with an organization called the Vanguard."

For a time, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. It seemed as if even the fire in the fireplace stopped crackling.

Hector observed the man closely, and still, he was feeling uncomfortable for some reason.

Hanton's expression remained exactly the same. "Why do you ask?"

Hector tilted his head. "Why don't you answer?"

"Several reasons," said the Lord Gaolanet. "I am not in the habit of simply giving out information about my family. Confirming or denying anything, without reason, is typically unwise, I feel. I hope you will not think my caution suspicious."

"I am certain Lord Goffe did not mean to offend," said the King.

"Offense was not taken, Your Highness," said Hanton, eyes still on Hector. "I only wished to clarify my position."

Hector thought carefully. On the one hand, he didn't want to just come right out and start talking about reapers and servants. If this guy genuinely didn't have prior knowledge of them, then Hector would just be carelessly spreading some rather sensitive information.

But on the other hand... this guy had to know about them already, didn't he?

Agh, what was this weird feeling about? Why wasn't it going away?

"The reason I'm asking," said Hector, "is because it is relevant to the security of the nation."

"I see," said Hanton. He turned to William. "This hardly seems like the subject matter that one would encounter during a 'purely social' visit as you claimed earlier, Your Highness."

"I said I was here for purely social reasons," said the King. "I said nothing about the young Lord Goffe's reasons."

Hanton did not look pleased. "A distinction without a difference. This hardly seems appropriate, given the hospitality that I have--"

The man kept talking, and the King kept responding, but Hector was only partially listening.

In a background thought process, he was still trying to pinpoint the source of this persistent unease that he was feeling. There was something about Hanton's presence...

There was some kind of... emptiness to it.

And then, thanks to the Scarf of Amordiin, Hector realized what the problem was.

He'd been thinking metaphorically about the feeling of emptiness. It was actually literal.

While Hanton was still talking to the King, Hector stepped forward and placed his hand on the man's chest. And he felt it there, too. The texture of his suit's cloth was as clear as day.

But Hector pushed forward anyway, and his hand went through Hanton's body.

Everyone stopped.

Hector swished his hand back and forth like there was no resistance. Like it was just thin air.

Because it was.

That was what had been bothering him. Even though he could see Hanton with his eyes, even though he could feel the man's hand when he shook it, Hector hadn't been able to sense the shape of Hanton's body with the Scarf of Amordiin. The air in the room flowed right through Hanton like he wasn't even there.

With half of Hector's arm stuck through his chest, Hanton looked around at his speechless audience before settling on the Lord Darksteel again. "My, my... this is rather awkward, now isn't it?"

Hector wanted to say something, but each question that popped into his head felt like it might betray something about himself--some critical lack of information or understanding. And with whatever was happening right now, Hector thought he should keep his cards close to his chest for the moment.

The King was apparently less reserved, however. "What is happening here? Hanton?"

"My apologies, Your Highness," said the Lord Gaolanet, still not bothering to move away from Hector. "This is not how I envisioned this conversation going."

"Hanton, please explain this situation," said the King.

"I am afraid I must refuse," said Hanton. "In fact, I believe it would be for the best if everyone here simply forgot that this ever happened."

"What do you--?" The King did not finish.

An overwhelming sensation washed over Hector, heavy and unlike anything he had ever felt. An invisible blanket, perhaps. Smothering him. Weighing him down. Slowing him down. His thought processes. Suffocating him. Shutting down his mind.

Or at least, that was what it felt like for his frontmost thought process. Because of the others, in the back of his mind, Hector was still perfectly aware that nothing was happening to him. His body was fine. The room was unchanged. Nothing was truly altered, except perhaps for the way that Hanton was staring at him.

Hector looked around at the others in the room, suddenly worrying for them. They were all still there, seemingly unharmed, but none of them were moving even the slightest bit. The King's mouth was still half-open, stopped in the middle of a word.

Lynnette, Diego, Matteo--even the four reapers were frozen in midair. Garovel, Melhsanz, Yangéra, and Ernivoc. All stuck there. Silent. Unmoving.

Hector tried to stay calm, but it was difficult. If anything happened to them--

"Do not be alarmed," came Hanton's voice again. He had finally moved away from Hector's immediate grasp and was walking toward the same door through which he'd entered earlier. He stopped and turned to face Hector again. "I have no intention of hurting them. It would be no end of trouble if such famous individuals were to disappear."

This was a lot to take in. Hector knew he had to remain calm and think carefully. He had no idea what this man was capable of. Attacking him seemed unwise, especially since the guy's "body" wasn't even real.

This didn't seem like the power of a servant, but he didn't want to just assume that Hanton Gaolanet was another god, either. He needed information.

Hector recalled what Hanton had said just before everyone else had stopped moving. "Are you trying to erase our memories?"

"That was the plan, yes," said Hanton. "I chose to spare you, however, because I wanted to talk first."

Hector squinted at him, anger rising. He could still feel the oppression of his frontmost thought process. "Don't lie to me, Hanton. You're already on thin ice, and I'm not in a very forgiving mood, right now."

Immediately, Hector felt the oppression in his mind vanish, and he watched Hanton take a single step backward, though the expression on the man's face was unchanged.

The others all remained frozen where they were, however.

"So you really are that dangerous," said the Lord Gaolanet. "I thought it was perhaps some fluke that you were able to resist me--that you might not be aware of my attempt to penetrate your mind. But I see now that I was wrong. I apologize for underestimating you, Lord Goffe."

Hector made no response. He merely kept staring at him.

"Tell me," said Hanton. "How were you able to see through this illusion? I am certain that I covered all of your senses completely. Even your reaper should not have been able to tell the difference."

"...If you're still hoping to talk this out," said Hector, "then I suggest you release my companions. Now."

"Ah..." Hanton deliberated silently for a moment. "You are quite intimidating. I will grant you that. But I am not convinced that you can truly harm me. You do not even know where my real body is."

"...Do you want me to come looking for it?" said Hector.

Again, Hanton fell briefly quiet. "I am not seeking a fight here, Lord Goffe."

"Neither am I. You're the one taking hostages."

"I told you that I do not intend to harm them."

"And you've already lied to me once."

"You misunderstand. I am only concerned with keeping the presence of my family a secret. We have no quarrel with you. We are a peaceful flock. We merely wish to be left alone."

Hector took his time considering his next words. If that was really true, then what about the trail of poisonings that had led him here? Should he bring that up now?

He felt like he'd gained ground in the conversation, but he also didn't want to push his luck while everyone was still locked in some sort of... mind prison or whatever the hell it was.

"Okay," Hector said slowly, "but if secrecy is so important to you... then why are you one of the most famous families in the country?"

"The degree of privacy we require is not something that can be obtained without considerable wealth. And wealth, unfortunately, is accompanied by notoriety--and in the case of my ancestors, noble lineage as well."

Ancestors, huh? Hector didn't know if he could trust that new sliver of information, but he took note of it nonetheless. "...And what is the reason you require that much privacy?"

Hanton deliberated for another moment. Then he exhaled a long breath. "It seems that if we are to resolve this situation without violence, then I must show you the truth." His expression darkened. "But I warn you, Hector Goffe: if word of what you are about to see ever reaches the outside world, then I will hunt you down and extract my toll--if not from you, then from those you care about. There will be no place in this world that is safe from me. Any pain that I suffer as a result of your indiscretion in this matter, I will visit upon you tenfold. This, I vow."

Well, goddamn. Hector wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Do you understand me?" said Hanton.

"...Yeah, I understand you," said Hector.

"Good." Hanton turned, and the doors behind him flung open on their own. "Then follow me."

"And my companions?"

"I say again: no harm will come to them. But if you are still so concerned, then bring them with you. I am sure you are capable of that without my help, no?"

He certainly was.

In an instant, Hector clapped full suits of iron armor around everyone and added his soul to them. He didn't know if his soul would help protect them from whatever telepathic horseshit Hanton was capable of, but he figured it wouldn't hurt.

Hector pulled them all closer on mobile platforms beneath their feet, and for the four reapers, he made soul-empowered iron orbs to capture them and put them in orbit around himself. The orbiting was probably unnecessary, but at this point, it was a force of habit.

Hanton was waiting for him in the hall--and staring with wide eyes.

For good measure, Hector decided to add a few decorative flourishes to everyone's armor, helping to distinguish them at a glance. Diego's helmet got stubby horns; the King's helmet got a crown; Matteo's pauldrons got spikes; and Lynn's faceguard was given a T-shaped eye slit. And he may've added a few embossed swirls for everyone's breastplate, gauntlets, cuisses, and greaves.

Yeah, that looked a little better.

As he moved to catch up with Hanton, Hector decided to armor himself up as well, making sure to let the Scarf flow freely as always.

"There is no need for this intimidation," said Hanton. "We will not attack you."

"I wasn't trying to intimidate you," said Hector, the metal of his helmet accenting his voice. "But it never hurts to be prepared."

"Indeed..." Hanton frowned and started walking again.

Hector and his armored entourage followed. He concentrated as much as he could on what the Scarf could tell him. He pushed for its limit, trying to sense as far away as he possibly could--around corners in the intersection ahead and even through the cracks beneath the doors in the hallway.

Some of those doors weren't even real, he realized. And that intersection ahead? There were only two other paths, not three.

More illusions.

Hector wondered briefly what the point of such subtle deception was, but it wasn't hard to think of a reason. This place would be a hellish maze for any normal person to navigate. For any invaders, in other words.

They walked for a long while, and Hector wanted to ask Hanton where they were going. Where were all the people that Garovel had sensed earlier? Had they been illusions, too? He supposed that wouldn't be surprising.

At length, he finally sensed something that wasn't just another empty room or corridor.

In a distant chamber at the limit of the Scarf's range, Hector sensed a hulking shape, something not immediately recognizable to his imagination. It was the size of a truck. And it was breathing. He could sense the flow of air in and out of its mouth.

No.

Its beak. Yeah. And the way the air moved around its body--those were feathers, weren't they?

A giant bird.

Hector didn't know what to think.

Hanton led him to the room that the bird was waiting in, and sure enough, the man showed him inside.

To his eyes, the enormous bird was invisible, but Hector knew exactly where it was. And this room. It looked like any other, but he could sense that the ceiling was fake. It was actually one big window, currently sitting half-open--perhaps in case the bird wanted to fly away.

"As a show of good faith," said Hanton, "I will now show you my true form."

Hector held his tongue.

The way in which the bird became suddenly visible to his eyes was as if a paper veil were being quickly burned away.

There arrived a briefly silent intermission.

"...You are not surprised?" said Hanton--or the human projection of him, rather.

"No, I am," said Hector. Sure, he'd sensed it coming at the last minute, but that didn't change the fact that he still had about a billion questions. "What are you, exactly?"

"I am a Wrobel," said Hanton, still speaking from the illusion's mouth while the bird merely observed him. "The few of you who already know of my kind also call us Sparrows. I find that term acceptable, if you prefer it."

"...You're not a servant," Hector surmised.

"No. I am not."

"Are you a descendant of one, though? An ancient mutation user, maybe?"

The bird's giant head twitched at that question. Its darkly red-and-brown plumage bristled slightly, and it stood up fully, briefly revealing talons the size of Hector's entire body.

'A common and very crude question,' came another voice.

And Hector was bewildered, because that had definitely been in his mind, and Hanton's mouth hadn't moved at all.

But then, Hanton's human body wasn't actually real, was it? Therefore, the "voice" that Hector thought he had been hearing with his ears--that hadn't been real, either.

That huge Sparrow there was the real Hanton Gaolanet. Hector understood that, and yet it was still somehow difficult to come to terms with.

Perhaps Hanton could tell that Hector was confused even through his armor, because the human illusion vanished into thin air, and only the Sparrow remained.

'Why is it that servants always wish to trace the origins of our noble race back to themselves?' said Hanton.

Sounded like he'd touched a sore spot. "That wasn't my intention," said Hector. "I'm just trying to understand why there's a giant, talking bird in front of me."

'Hmph.' Hanton's plumage flared up again, and he looked away from Hector.

Was he... pouting?

Maybe it was just a result of the Sparrow's head shape. A trick of the eyes, in some sense. Despite being so large and probably having a wingspan comparable to that of a commercial airplane, Hanton didn't actually look like a bird of prey.

Rather, he really did look like a plump, little sparrow that had just been scaled up to gargantuan proportions. His beady eyes, short beak, and fat head made him look... oddly cute, honestly.

Hector didn't let that distract him, however, from the fact that this guy was dangerous as shit.

"...Would you care to share a bit of your origin story with me, then?" said Hector.

'Do you know the origin story of servants?' said Hanton. His tone wasn't one of genuine curiosity, but rather one of a counter argument. 'Or how about that of the entire human race?'

"Alright, no need to get so defensive. I was just curious."

'I was not being defensive. I was enlightening you about your own biases.'

That rubbed Hector the wrong way, and he wanted to make a retort, but he focused on maintaining his composure, instead. Allowing himself to get pissed off wasn't going to be productive.

But what was?

Now that he was standing here in front of this giant and surly bird, what was he supposed to say? For whatever reason, Hanton wasn't saying anything now, so how was this conversation supposed to progress?

From the sound of it, Hanton didn't actually know for sure that his race wasn't descended from an ancient mutation user, but bringing that up again would obviously be unwise.

He wanted some kind of context, though.

"What can you tell me about your race's history?" he asked.

'That we are peaceful.'

"Yeah, you already said that."

'We were once persecuted and hunted to the brink of extinction.'

Hector wasn't exactly surprised to hear that, but it did make him curious. "With powers like yours, it seems to me that you could take over half the world, if you wanted."

'...I suppose I should have assumed that you would know of that,' said Hanton. 'No doubt, you have long been a student of ancient history.'

Wait, what?

'I was not attempting to deceive you again,' the Sparrow said, sounding suddenly more conciliatory. 'That is a period of our history which we have grown to regret. It is a thing we would prefer not to think about.'

Huh?

Hold on just a minute here.

Hector kept his poker face, but what the fuck kind of assumptions had Hanton just made about him, exactly? How old did Hanton think he was?

And more importantly... the Sparrows really did try to take over half the world at some point? When the hell did that happen? Sure, he hadn't paid much attention during history class in school, but he was fairly certain that he would've remembered it if one of his teachers had ever told him that a race of gigantic super-birds had once attempted to conquer humanity.

Hector was reluctant to say anything more now. If he picked the wrong thing or phrased it the wrong way, then Hanton might realize his mistake.

'I assure you,' said Hanton, 'the only thing we care about now is maintaining the peace of this small haven that we have created for ourselves.'

"...How many of you are here?" Hector asked.

'Five.'

"So few?" Hector cocked an eyebrow. "My reaper sensed many souls earlier."

'Ah, yes, well... we employ numerous humans here. And my children often make multiple avatars for themselves to play around with.'

Avatars, huh? So that's how they thought of their human illusions. "Do your employees know the truth about you?"

'Some, not all. Those who have been with us the longest, who have gained our trust.'

"And I guess you just wipe their memory if they ever find out accidentally, eh?"

Hanton made no response.

Another thought occurred to Hector, and even though it didn't seem immediately relevant to the situation, he just had to bring it up. "The King mentioned... that he once had a marriage interview with a girl named Pauline Gaolanet some years ago."

'Ah. Yes...'

"...What was the plan there? I'm assuming she's a Sparrow, too, right? Why would you try to have her marry a normal human?"

'That was... a delicate situation.'

"How so?"

'In her youth, Pauline was quite the little troublemaker. She created an avatar identical to my own and visited Joseph Belgrant to organize a marriage interview with his son, William.'

Hector's eyes widened, and he glanced at the still-frozen King in his suit of iron armor. "She really wanted to marry him?"

'It was a game to her. A childish one. She did not understand the full implications of her actions.'

"But she understood well enough to fool Joseph Belgrant?"

'What can I say? She has always been a bit too clever for her own good.'

Somehow, Hector couldn't help snickering a little. "You must've been relieved when it didn't work out."

'Oh, you have no idea.' Surprisingly enough, Hanton actually seemed to share a bit of Hector's amusement.

After that, however, a lull arrived in the conversation.

Hanton thus far seemed largely agreeable, and Hector felt like they could probably come to terms here.

But the more he thought about it, the less certain he became.

No matter how well they managed to get along, the well-being of Garovel and Lynn and everyone else was paramount here. And there was still the matter of the poisonings, of course. As long as Hanton was holding hostages, it didn't seem like a good idea to broach that subject.

"...I want you to release your hold over my companions now," said Hector.

'And I want you to keep my family's secret,' said Hanton.

"I can agree to that," said Hector.

'The question is: can I trust you to keep your word?'

Hector leveled a stare right into Hanton's beady eyes. "Yes. You can."

'You are a national hero. I would like to believe you.'

Hector could hear a contradictory point coming.

'...But I hardly know you. I require more convincing.'

Hector sighed. "Even if I tried to tell someone, who would believe me?"

'Hmm, I fear many people would. If you were truly of a mind to do so, with your credibility, you could convince all of Atreya of our existence.'

"What would be the point? You could just go wipe all their memories, anyway."

Hanton was quiet again for a time. 'Perhaps I should not tell you this, but... in the interest of building trust between us, I will.'

Hector just tilted his head, waiting for elaboration.

'Given the current state of your associates, I am sure that my abilities seem rather impressive to you. And frankly, they are. You are right to fear me.'

Hector's expression flattened a little.

'However, I am not without my limits. Manipulating minds and souls, projecting illusions, concealing myself. These things all have their tolls. Wiping so many memories would be an impossible feat. News of our existence would doubtlessly spread far faster than we could ever hope to contain it.'

"Well, Atreya doesn't know much about servants and reapers, either," said Hector.

'Yes, but if that were to change, no one would come to hunt you down,' said Hanton.

Hector wasn't quite so sure of that, but saying as much didn't seem like it would be very useful at the moment. "Who do you think would come to hunt you down?"

'There are several groups who might appear. The Morgunovs, the Andanatt, the Bloodmen, the Potrzask, the Andalero--and certainly the Old Wardens, if they still exist. And perhaps others, as well.'

Wow, that was a lot. "Why would they all want to hunt you?"

'Some would want to study our biology via dissection. Some would wish to sell our biology, instead. And others might simply harbor old grudges.'

Agh. Hector wanted to ask exactly how long ago these "old grudges" were, but that would probably give away too much information about his age, wouldn't it? But then again, maybe he already knew all he needed to about that. Hanton had called their attempt at conquest "ancient history," so it was a fairly safe bet that it was at least a thousand years ago, Hector figured.

"...You really think anyone has been holding a grudge against your kind for that long?" asked Hector.

'Hmph. Reapers have long memories.'

"That, they do. But the world moves on, and so do reapers."

'Do they really? That is what they may claim, but I do not trust their words--nor should you, even if you are their thrall.'

"...I won't try and argue that," said Hector. "They can certainly be deceptive. But these reapers with me are worthy of your trust."

'Ah. You vouch for them, do you?'

Impulsively, Hector almost just said yes right away. But the way Hanton had said that... and the way Hanton was looking at him now...

He reconsidered his response. Vouching for Garovel was one thing. But the other three reapers? Could he honestly say that they were all so trustworthy?

Hmm.

"...Actually, no," said Hector. He brought forth Garovel's orb and dematerialized it to reveal the reaper. "This is the only one I can honestly vouch for. The others... while I do trust them, I still don't really know them that well yet."

'...I see,' said Hanton. 'And what of the other humans? Would you vouch for any of them as well?'

Hector didn't take quite as long to deliberate about that. Sorry, Diego. Sorry, Matteo. "Lynnette and King William," he said, bringing their suits of armor forward.

'I find that somewhat surprising,' said Hanton, ruffling his feathers for a moment. 'Do you truly believe that you can trust royalty, of all people? They can be treacherous in a manner of their own. As a fellow student of history, I am sure you are aware of that as well.'

Hector wondered how they had gotten onto this subject, but it was something he had actually thought about before. "I understand why you would say that," said Hector. "The most famous royals throughout history--or the most infamous ones, I guess--typically had a reputation for... treachery, like you said. But you're talking about outliers. Exception case."

'Oh? Are you saying that royals are deserving of our trust by default, then?'

"...Of course not. But I don't think they're inherently untrustworthy, either. I think that... almost any ruler's success or failure can be determined by how much support they have. Not from the general public, necessarily, but from those close to them. Those who really do support them. Real cooperation beats fear every time."

'Mm. I agree to an extent. There is some truth in what you say. Royalty will not be royalty for very long if it must constantly worry over daggers in the back.'

"...Exactly."

'But what makes you think a Belgrant is worthy of your trust?'

The way Hanton said that caught Hector's attention. A Belgrant? Not "the King" or "His Highness?" Just a Belgrant?

Hector was suddenly reminded of the tale that King William had told him at the Gala. The tale of his ancestor, Charles Belgrant.

"...It sounds like you're harboring some resentment for the Belgrants," said Hector.

'Resentment, no. It is is more akin to a general wariness.'

"And why is that?"

'It is a rather long and old story,' said Hanton.

"...It wouldn't have anything to do with a man named Charles, would it?"

The Sparrow shifted his body a little and bristled his feathers. 'How much do you know about Charles Belgrant?'

Hector didn't feel like answering that. "How much do you?"

'Hmph. He swindled my ancestors.'

Wait, seriously? Charles managed to trick a group of psychics? Or were they just telepaths? Or were those the same thing? Hector wasn't too sure.

"How did he pull that off?" Hector asked.

'First, he gained our trust. He aided us during a time when we were having difficulty maintaining our concealment.'

"Hmm." The conversation was getting off track again, but Hector also felt that if he didn't inquire further now, he might never get another chance. "What kind of aid did he provide?"

'He was in possession of an artifact that could, supposedly, predict the future.'

Hector blinked. "Are you serious?"

'That is how the tale goes. Do not ask me if it is true. I have no idea.'

Holy shit. Could there really be an artifact like that? Even Rasalased had only "kind of" been able to predict the future. But then again, perhaps that just meant that it was actually possible.

The more he learned about this Charles character, though, the more Hector felt like he shouldn't take the stories about him at face value. Charles could've had some other kind of ace up his sleeve and just been lying about the artifact to make himself seem more powerful than he really was.

Heh.

What kind of idiot would do a thing like that, though?

Oh, man...

"...If he really had something like that, then why didn't your ancestors just take it from him and wipe his memory?"

'My noble brethren would never resort to thievery,' said Hanton.

Mm, Hector wasn't so sure he believed that, especially if the Gaolanets were still bitter about it all these years later. Maybe they couldn't take it from him for some reason. Maybe Charles had been able to resist their weird mind powers, too.

"Okay, so after gaining their trust, how did he 'swindle' your ancestors?" said Hector.

'He used their abilities to help him gain political power--and even to help create this very nation. And during that time, he promised them that, once he was crowned king, he would appoint them to various influential positions, thereby ensuring the continued protection of our kind in this newly established kingdom.'

Charles had wanted to become king himself? That hadn't been part of the story. "But the Gaolanets were already nobles back then, weren't they?"

'Yes, but the Mohssian Empire was faltering, and so too was our influence within it.'

"Hmm. You still haven't told me how he swindled you."

'With my ancestors' support, he intended to become the very first King of Atreya. But as I am sure you know, that never came to pass, now did it? And the reason for that, if the tale is to be believed, was absolutely absurd.'

Hector just listened.

'He had a change of heart,' said Hanton. 'Charles simply stopped pursuing his ambition. After years of supporting him, he gave up halfway and helped Domitrus Lumenbel to be crowned king, instead. Complete madness.'

That didn't sound that crazy to Hector, honestly.

'Supposedly, he became convinced that Domitrus would be a better king. And all of his promises to us went unfulfilled and forgotten.'

Hector supposed he could understand why that would upset them, but at the same time, he couldn't help thinking that it was rather petty on the Gaolanets' part, especially considering that they obviously did gain political power later on. He remembered King William telling him about how the Gaolanets were a big part of the AFA.

With the way this whole conversation was going, Hector's opinion of these Sparrows wasn't improving much. Or at all, really. While he appreciated Hanton's willingness to talk, pretty much everything the guy said made Hector's doubts increase in one way or another.

At this point, Hector almost would've preferred it if Hanton attacked him. At least that would've simplified things.

Well, whatever. Right now, the only thing Hector really cared about was making sure everyone made it out of this place alive. He could figure out how to deal with Hanton later.

"In any case, I'd like you to release my friends now," said Hector.

'Very well,' said Hanton. The giant bird disappeared again, and the human illusion reappeared and began speaking with a seemingly real voice again. "However, I still do not wish for them to see my true form. Nor do I intend to reexplain everything that I have already told you. As far as they will remember, we all enjoyed a perfectly pleasant and uneventful meeting."

Hector furrowed his brow. "So I have to tell them the truth myself, is what you're saying."

'That choice will be up to you, of course. Tell them whatever you like. I cannot stop you.'

Yeah. Nevermind how difficult it'll be to explain that they all have false memories. It seemed clear that Hanton was hoping Hector would decide to just keep this entire encounter to himself.

Hector was not pleased. "If you're just going to replace all of their memories, then what was the point of asking me to vouch for any of them?"

"I never claimed that there was any great reason. I was merely curious as to what you truly thought of them."

Hector had stop himself from scowling. Even if Hanton couldn't manipulate Hector's thought directly, the Sparrow could obviously still play mind games.

But again, Hector held his tongue. He just waited for everyone to be freed.

And kept waiting.

An awkward silence arrived before Hanton broke it.

"...If you would not mind removing their armor, then I shall release them all in unison."

As a matter of fact, Hector did mind removing their armor. "Why?"

"They were not wearing it when they arrived. They will notice that something is amiss if they are suddenly wearing it when they return to consciousness."

Hector's eyes narrowed slightly. Currently, Garovel was the only one not covered in soul-empowered iron. So instead of dematerializing everyone else's protection, he remade Garovel's orb and brought the reaper back into orbit around him with the other three.

"What are you doing?" said Hanton.

"You're already replacing their memories, right?" said Hector. "Just include the metal in there, too."

Hanton stared at him for a long moment. "...And how would I justify such an inclusion?"

Hector shrugged. "Feel free to get creative."

Hanton's illusory face tightened. "I told you that their new memories are supposed to be uneventful."

"That sounds like your problem," said Hector. "And one of your own making, as well."

"You are being unreasonable."

"I don't think I am."

There was more silence, and the air was noticeably tenser this time.

Hector knew he was pushing it, but frankly, he didn't trust Hanton very much. And most of all, he wanted to know if Hanton could affect the others' minds even through the soul-empowered iron. Acquiring that knowledge was crucial.

The Lord Gaolanet sighed and cast his eyes down to floor. "...I cannot release them while you are shielding them with your aura."

Aha. And his 'aura', huh? Hmm.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?" said Hanton, frowning at him.

Hector elected to say nothing.

"If you truly wish for me to release them, then you must allow me to," said Hanton.

And again, Hector found himself doubting the Sparrow's words. "Is that so? It seems to me... that if you aren't able to access their minds anymore, then whatever you've done to them should eventually just wear off on its own."

Hanton was quiet.

"Well?" pushed Hector. "Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"

"If I did tell you that, what would you do?"

"Why do you ask?"

Hanton scowled. "You are not wrong. The effects will wear off in about an hour. Perhaps less, considering how long we have been talking."

"You know, if you really want me as your ally, then continually trying to deceive me is not a good strategy." Yeah. That was pretty hypocritical of him, Hector knew. But then again, it wasn't technically wrong, either. He didn't consider his own strategy to be 'good.' Sure, it hadn't blown up in his face quite yet, but he certainly wouldn't recommend it to others.

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