CCLXVI. | Ch. 266: 'The breaker on the ridge...' (Patreon)

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Two Hundred Sixty-Six: 'The breaker on the ridge...'

Linus eyed the Rainlords, gauging their reactions. He wasn't in the habit of telling people his last name like that, mainly because it often prompted so many unpleasant responses, but he'd decided to make an impulsive exception here. Truthfully, these Rainlords intrigued him. They'd left the Vanguard, too, so perhaps they would understand him.

And from all he'd heard about them over the years, he highly doubted that they would be afraid of a mere name.

He could see the confusion and curiosity on their faces. But no shock or horror.

Good. He hadn't made a mistake, then. Wouldn't have been very good if he scared them off before they could be of any help.

He did expect some questions, though. Having the same last name as one of the most dangerous lunatics in modern history tended to provoke them.

'Well, it's good to meet you, Linus. My name's Mevox. And this big fella here is my servant, Salvador Delaguna.'

No probing questions, huh? Well, it was probably just a matter of time. "Nice to meet you. All of you." He kept going down stairs.

'You wouldn't happen to be related to Max the Merciless, would ya?' said Mevox.

There it was. "Yeah," Linus said flatly. "He was my nephew."

'I see, I see,' said Mevox. 'And does that have anything to do with why you're no longer with the Vanguard?'

"Sure does."

'Is this a sensitive subject? Would you rather not be asked about it?'

"You aren't the first to ask. Won't the be last, either. Fire away, if you're so curious."

'Sounds like you're very well-adjusted. But I don't wanna be nosy. Goes against my nature.'

Linus knew almost nothing about this Mevox, and yet somehow, he still knew that was a bold-faced lie. The snort from Salvador was pretty affirmative clue, too.

'If I WERE to inquire further, though,' Mevox went on, 'I would probably want to know more about why you decided to work for this Vance fella. Guy like you? Can't just be about the payday, can it? Not that I'd think less of you, if it was.'

He exited the stairwell and entered a long corridor full of polished silver tiles and soft amber lighting. He stopped and turned to make sure that their guests were following.

To his eyes, the reapers were tall, gangly things--humanoid in shape but ethereally pale and far too slim. They had no mouths or noses, either, and their faces instead were full of extra eyes.

It didn't escape Linus' notice, however, that that this Mevox was a slightly different color than most reapers. A bit darker, not quite so pale. Over his many years, Linus had seen several other reapers like that, ones with some kind of clear visual differentiation.

And they always meant trouble.

But not always the bad kind.

It was just so strange, because it highlighted the fact that, technically speaking, almost all reapers looked identical to one another. He'd heard as much from other servants, as well. No one ever had trouble telling them apart, but when it came to actually describing their visual features, it was a lost cause. Usually.

"I'd be lying if I said the money didn't matter," said Linus. He started walking again as the Rainlords finished filing into the hallway. "But Mr. Vance is an honorable man, doing important work here. This city would've been ransacked a hundred times over if not for him and his wealthy friends funding the RPMP."

'Vantalay also wouldn't be in the middle of a civil war if not for them, no?'

"Hmph. Sure. But it would still be at war with its neighbors. You're not about to tell me that you've decided to switch sides, have you?"

'Not at all. Just playing a bit of devil's advocate. It's a healthy exercise. Keeps us reapers sharp in our old age.'

Linus didn't press the issue further. They arrived at the end of the hall, and he knocked once on the door way.

"Enter," came Mr. Vance's voice from the other side.

Linus led everyone in. There weren't enough places for everyone to sit, but the enormous office had plenty of space.

Mr. Vance wasn't at his desk. Instead, the man was by the large windows on the far wall, overlooking the Ruby 88's square-shaped central plaza. The man had a good view of all thirty-four stories from here, and this was far from the first time that Linus had seen him standing there.

"Thank you for coming," said Mr. Vance as he turned around. He was a man of quite advanced years, and it showed. Gray hair, gray mustache, hunched posture, wrinkled features. His right hand gripped a cane, and he was missing an eye. Even in that sharp suit of his, he never really looked to be in the best of health. There was a reason that his enemies had taken to calling him the Shriveled Donkey.

Mr. Vance just seemed to find the name amusing, though.

Linus, not so much.

One of the Rainlords in front began speaking, a raven-haired man with steel gray eyes and harsh features. Linus hadn't yet learned all of their faces, but he was fairly certain this this was Zeff Elroy, the one they called the Water Dragon of Sair.

"How's the battle going?" the man asked.

"There are good days and bad," said Mr. Vance, stepping slowly over to his desk. "Thankfully, we were able to push Abolish out of the city before the VMP's reinforcements arrived to assist them. We've managed to keep the fighting away from any civilians."

"If you're not asking us to head straight into combat, then you must feel that things are currently under control," said Elroy.

Mr. Vance gave a mild nod. "Yes. I was thinking of keeping you here as a secondary force, in case they breach the city. But if you would prefer to head to the front lines, that could be arranged, too."

"You are very accommodating," said Elroy.

"I understand that your situation is somewhat difficult at the moment," said Mr. Vance. "You would prefer not to make too large of a splash here in Vantalay, no? I don't mind thinking of you as an ace up my sleeve, if you'll pardon the gambling analogy."

Elroy made no response.

"You would be honorary members of the RPMP," Mr. Vance went on, "and as such, I would prepare a suitable stipend for the duration of your stay here. That, too, is negotiable if you would prefer some other form of payment. Something with less of a paper trail, perhaps?"

Still, the Rainlords persisted in silence.

Mr. Vance tilted his head at them. "Well? I'm not getting any younger over here. Do you find those terms agreeable? If so, let us begin hashing out the details."

"...No," said Elroy. "We do not wish to prolong our time in Ridgemark any more than necessary."

Mr. Vance leaned back in his chair. "Oh? You have pressing business elsewhere?"

"You could say that."

"If you are willing to share what it is, then perhaps I could provide assistance--or at least point you toward someone else who can."

Elroy fell quiet again.

From his position beside Mr. Vance, Linus could see several of the Rainlords exchanging small glances with one another, particularly the reapers, as if they were conducting a silent conversation. Obviously, the reapers could speak telepathically with their own servants, but not with each other, so it made for a peculiar sight.

It made him wonder if perhaps Rainlord reapers actually could have private conversations. Heh. Maybe that was why they were such a tightly knit community.

More likely, though, they just understood each other incredibly well.

At length, Elroy spoke up again for everyone. "Logden Prison. You know of it?"

Mr. Vance paused to think. "Logden? Yes, I know of it. What is your interest in it?"

"We have people there. We want to get them out."

Mr. Vance gave Linus a look.

Linus knew what he wanted. A tentative assessment. Would it be possible to help the Rainlords with such an endeavor? A simple nod or shake of his head was all Mr. Vance was looking for here.

Unfortunately, Linus couldn't give him either answer. Without knowing more about the nature of the operation that these Rainlords had in mind, he could not in good conscious commit to assisting them, even tentatively.

But it was still an interesting idea. He decided to give his boss a kind of uncertain half-nod.

Mr. Vance seemed to understand. "We can help with that."

Okay, maybe he hadn't understood. Shit.

Linus didn't get the chance to take Mr. Vance aside and explain, because Elroy spoke up again first.

"Ideally, we would be able to get them out before the battle here is decided."

"Ah, do you think these people be willing and able to aid in the defense of the city?"

"Absolutely," said Elroy.

"Excellent," said Mr. Vance with a smile.

Linus was clenching his jaw as Mr. Vance turned to look at him again.

The meeting didn't get much better for Linus from there. The discussion turned to one of logistics and intel-sharing with regard to the enemy. Several times, Linus wanted to interject and perhaps walk back their claim of support, but no clear opportunity for it ever arrived.

And frankly, it probably wouldn't matter. Whether intentionally or not, Mr. Vance had committed the RPMP--or his part of it, at least--to helping them. Trying to undo that commitment would just make him look weak and foolish.

Ugh.

As the meeting drew on, Linus found his mind already wandering to the more pressing issue of who the hell he could spare for this mission. Maybe he could convince Kristof or Daro to send someone from their divisions, instead. With the promise of future reinforcements on the table, one of them might agree.

Probably Daro, most likely. Kristof was already up to his eyeballs on the front line. Yeah. The more Linus thought about it, the more he felt like Kristof wouldn't want to spare even a single patrolman--not without a major concession on Linus' part, at least.

By the time the Rainlords left, Linus was in a foul mood. Mr. Vance must've been able to tell, because he asked him to stay and talk instead of escorting them to their rooms. Granted, that was grunt work, but still. If the Rainlords decided to go crazy and start attacking people, Linus might've been the only person in the building who could stop them.

"I want you go with them," Mr. Vance.

Linus didn't understand. Go with them? The man had just asked him to stay behind and talk. "What?"

"To Logden Prison," he clarified. "Take some men with you, if you want, but I want you to accompany the Rainlords personally."

Linus blinked. "Sir, what are you talking about? I couldn't possibly leave Ridgemark, right now. If the VMP breaches the city, this place would be all but defenseless. You'd be defenseless."

"I know."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had the man lost his--?

Hmm.

Actually, no. On second thought, Linus could believe it just fine.

Vino Vance had been acting strange over the last few months. He'd been making decisions that he never would have a year ago, taking risks that he never would have.

Just last month, for instance, when that first group of Rainlords arrived, Vino had asked him to send a group to negotiate with them. This, when a Vanguardian field marshal had been only a stone's throw away from here. It had worked out for the best in the end, of course, but it could have easily turned into gigantic mess for a variety of reasons.

And there were subtler changes, too. Vino's appetite wasn't what it used to be. Linus barely ever saw him eating, anymore. It didn't help that Vino's natural appearance had always been rather pale and sickly, either.

Rather than feigning confusion or disbelief, Linus' expression settled, and he sat down in front of the man's desk. He let the silence linger for a while longer, finding it almost impossible to look him in the eye. Linus didn't want to inquire further. But at this point, he had no choice. "...Talk to me, Vino. What's been going on with you, lately?"

Vino took his time answering. Perhaps he didn't want to have this conversation, either. "I'm dying, Linus."

The words washed over him like a sudden haze. His worst fear, realized an instant. It wasn't painful. Not yet, at least. It was too sudden. Quick and precise like a knife.

It would hit him eventually, though. Linus had been through this type of thing many times before. His entire family was dead, after all, most from old age.

The impulsive part of him wanted to deny what he'd heard. Or rebel against it, at least. A man of Vino Vance's resources? They could almost certainly secure a reaper for him after he passed. And if not, Linus had plenty of contacts, as did his reaper, Dijara.

But it wasn't that simple, of course.

Linus had known Vino for ages, since long before he'd chosen to come work for him. Despite the professionalism that Linus tried to show in front of others, the truth of the matter was that Vino was his oldest and dearest friend.

When they first met, Linus was little better than a greenhorn in the Vanguard, and Vino was just a boy living in abject squalor here in Vantalay. Those horrific conditions had been a contributing factor to Vino's physical frailty throughout his life.

But he'd lived a long time, despite all that. Eighty-five years and counting.

Linus didn't yet have the heart to ask how much longer he had.

"You don't seem surprised," Vino observed.

Linus didn't know what the proper response here was. Was there one? A century of life experience, and he was still lost for words. He'd never all that good with them in the first place. That was one of the reasons he enjoyed working under someone like Vino.

"I guess you figured it out awhile ago, eh? Always were sharper than you liked to let on."

Linus still couldn't look at him. He wanted to tell Vino not to be stubborn, to become a servant. But he already knew Vino's feelings on the matter. The subject had come up many times before over the course of casual conversation.

This was anything but casual, though. Maybe he should try broaching it again. Couldn't hurt to try, right? What was there to lose?

Linus finally looked up at him. "...I'm sure I could find a reaper for you, Vino."

"I'm sure you could, old friend."

That tone didn't sound like one of agreement. "Is there time enough for it?"

"Probably."

"...But you won't do it."

"Come on, Linus. How many times have we talked about this?"

Something about Vino's tone annoyed him. "As far as I'm concerned," said Linus, "those were all warm up conversations for the one we're having right now. This is your life we're talking about, Vino."

"Yes. My life. Not yours. Not some reaper's. Mine."

"Is that really why you're being so stubborn? Because you don't like the idea of putting your life in someone else's hands?"

"Not at all. My life has been in your hands more times than I can even remember."

"Then what is it, exactly? Why not give it a shot?"

"Linus, please. You think I want to be immortal in this body? I didn't want it when I was still young and... relatively virile, let's say. Why would I want it now that I'm an infirm old man?"

"Because you're about to die."

Vino shook his head. "I've lived my life the way I wanted. And I'll die the way I want, too. Though my fearful heart might waver, my mind does not. I refuse to act impulsively now."

Linus sighed and stood up in order step away from the desk. "You're just being prideful and stubborn. Not courageous."

"Maybe. But I've never thought pride was such a terrible thing."

Agh.

He needed to try a different approach. An appeal to Vino's sense of responsibility, perhaps. "Ridgemark needs you, Vino. Now more than ever. This war... it threatens everything you've built. Everything you love."

Vino gave a noticeable pause. "I'll admit, the timing could be better. I would've liked to go when things were more peaceful..."

Linus perked up a little, seeing an opening. "Then we can do that. You could become a servant just until the war is over. Or for however long you deem fit. Who knows? You might be surprised how much you like it."

Vino just looked at him, expressionless.

"The important thing is that you would be able to go out on your own terms. Whenever you want."

Vino's gaze drifted to the side, somewhat.

Was that... a tinge of uncertainty that Linus saw? Maybe Vino could be convinced, after all.

Vino closed his eyes for a moment and took a long breath. "Wouldn't that just be a delusion? This war may be the largest in a century, but it won't be the last. There will always been another excuse to prolong my departure."

Well, yeah. That was kind of what Linus was hoping for here. He decided to keep that thought to himself, though. "But it wouldn't be a fixed decision, Vino. You could change your mind at any time. Just give it a chance. Please."

"No, Linus. There's no point. My mind is made up. I've already made peace with it. I hope you will, too."

Irritated, Linus started walking back and forth across the room. "Vino, this is absurd. You're giving up, and that's not like you. Not at all. Any number of things could happen in the time you have left. I don't know how long that is, but if you would just open yourself up to to the possibility that--"

"I have about three months left. Or so my doctor tells me."

Linus stopped pacing, his back toward Vino. He didn't turn around. Something that bit of information and the tone of Vino's voice made him feel like that there was nothing at all that could be done--even though there most certainly was.

For a while, Linus just stood there, silent and stewing in his thoughts.

He was already feeling it, he suddenly realized. The death of his closest friend.

In the past, when he'd lost people, it usually took him a few days to process, to get to this point. But now...

It should've been the opposite, shouldn't it? After experiencing this so many times before, he should've built up some manner of tolerance to it.

But it wasn't like that at all. If anything, he felt worse than ever. More powerless than ever. More hopeless than ever.

More alone than ever.

He supposed it was a testament to just how much Vino meant to him. If he had the presence of mind for it, he might've tried to take solace in that thought a little more.

But he didn't. It passed through his mind like rain through a window screen and was gone.

And instead, a far stupider thought manifested in his mind, something that he already knew made no sense but that nonetheless felt so incredibly appropriate at the moment. "Well, maybe I'll just let myself die along with you, then."

Vino was quiet a moment. His next words came out very softly. "If that's what you want, then I won't be able to stop you. But I'm hoping that you'll keep living for a while longer yet. Because I'm leaving everything to you."

Linus turned to look at him again. "What?"

"In my will, I mean," said Vino. "You're getting everything."

Linus was speechless.

"Do whatever you want with it all. Tear down the Ruby and turn it into a landfill, if that's what'll make you happy."

At that comment, Linus' expression flattened a little. "You know I'd never do something like that."

A wry smile crept across Vino's wrinkled face. "Yeah, I do. That's why I'm leaving it to you. I know you'll take care of everything--or do your best to, at least. And that's all I'm asking for."

Linus just sighed again. The man already sound so resigned to his fate, as if his own legacy hardly even mattered to him.

Or maybe he was just at peace with everything. Linus found it difficult to tell the difference between surrender and acceptance. One sounded a lot healthier than the other, but was there any actual nuance to speak of? He wasn't sure.

Maybe it didn't matter.

Heh. Maybe nothing did.

Dijara would have some choice words for him if she heard him say that. He wished she was here now, but it felt too late to call her over. He could talk to her later.

Perhaps Linus' silence was beginning to bother Vino, because the other man decided to pick the conversation back up again without waiting for him to respond. "You're not really thinking about dying with me, are you?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure. He just turned away and rubbed his forehead.

"Linus. You still have so much to live for."

The irony of listening to this man say that made Linus want to laugh in Vino's face--and maybe also punch him. He resisted both urges, though.

"I suppose you must think that sounds pretty hypocritical coming from me," said Vino.

Yeah, no shit.

"But Linus, listen. You're not like me. You're, what? Twice my age or so? And yet you don't look any older than the day I first met you." Vino paused for a breathy laugh. "You still have your health. Your youth. Even if I were to become undead like you, I couldn't reverse aging. I'd still be old and tired and full of chronic pain whenever my poor reaper wasn't around. But you? You could go out there and start a brand new family, if you wanted. And show them the world. Teach them all sorts of things. You're wiser than you give yourself credit for, my friend."

"So you're telling me that if you could somehow reclaim your youth, you'd change your mind?" said Linus.

At that, Vino hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it and averted his gaze.

"Yeah, I thought not," said Linus.

"Look, we're not talking about me."

"Yes, we are."

"Linus. I'm just..." It was a rare instance where Vino seemed to struggle for his words. In all their time together, Linus hadn't seen this very often. Vino took the opportunity to sigh heavily before continuing. "I'm just ready to move on. That's all."

"To move on," echoed Linus dryly.

Vino gestured broadly around him. "From this life. Or this world, maybe. I'm ready to see whatever comes next. Truthfully, I'm kind of excited about it."

Linus just stared at him for a moment. Somehow, this wasn't surprising. Thinking back to all their conversations over the years, the topic of what happens after death had come up quite a number of times. "...And what if there's nothing to discover?"

Vino all but rolled his eyes at him. "You would ask that question of a dying man, you callous jerk. Would it kill you have some tact for a change? Honestly."

Linus wasn't really in the mood to lighten things up with insults or banter. He just kept looking at his friend, waiting for an answer to his question.

Vino exhaled through his nose. "I don't think there'll be nothing," said Vino, "but if I'm wrong, then, well. At least I won't have to listen you saying 'I told you so.'"

Linus just shook his head. He couldn't understand how Vino could be so casual about it.

Though, at the same time, a small part of him had to admire the man, too. All these years, Vino had told him over and over again that he believed in an afterlife. Linus had never entirely thought that he was serious. He'd always sort of suspected that Vino might've just been posturing. Trying to convince himself as much as Linus.

But listening to him now?

Linus couldn't think that way anymore. Vino was really putting his money where his mouth was.

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