"Two? Damn. Comin' in droves now, huh?" Scott asked, "Actually, I'm kind of surprised you're still there. You were talking about bailing with Ets, if I remember right."

He couldn't possibly know the circumstances that led to them staying--and he didn't really care. A situation was a situation, regardless of what led to it. What led to it was only important if it could resolve the situation, and looking on the past would do nothing for this one.

Etsu ceased pacing once she heard Scott better. She stopped by the door and watched Eld's face. She couldn't see his eyes that well, but that didn't matter. Hopefully, Scott had good advice to give them. The situation seemed grim enough that just about anything would do. Anything but staying and fighting.

"Give me a minute. I think I got a good signal on your . . ."

Scott trailed off. He was silent for nearly a minute. Nothing seemed too terribly wrong with it, almost like he'd just mumbled the last of that sentence, but when he spoke again . . .

"Kid," Scott began, his voice already momentously changed. Deeper. Far from friendly and casual as his usual way seemed to be. "You're going to look outside. Then, you're going to decide if you're running far, far away, or if you're staying with bared teeth."

Eld was glad Scott didn't ask him to explain why they weren't already gone, because he wasn't sure he really could. He himself wasn't sure just what had happened to him, and hadn't gotten the chance to sort it out in his head yet. All he knew is that he really needed to talk to Kageko the first chance he could get.

He was tempted to comment that he wasn't going to leave the village like this and he'd already seen what it was like outside, but...something about his voice suggested Scott wasn't just talking about the weather.

"What do you mean?" he asked, doing over to his window and looking through it--though he tried to stay in the shadows by it, in case one of the Memories was watching.

When Etsu heard Scott's awe, she was more surprised than Eld. She moved to the window at the same time as Eld, but made no attempt to hide herself as he did.

Outside, it was . . .

It was near the center of the village. Eld and Etsu could see a glimpse of it from his window. Sheets of it all were lifted, rising into the sky as a morbid sculpture. A mass collection of frozen precipitation, collected from the ground, the sky, the air--everywhere. How long it'd been there, Etsu had no clue. She and Eld hadn't looked out that far when they first got back.

The size of it was terrifying. Had they not known the existence of Death, looking upon the sculpted masterpiece of supernatural make would have filled them both with religious horror. Collected ice weaved from the ground, gathered about surrounding homes, and wrapped itself about the cylindrical structure like deadly vines. The cylinder itself was perfect: carved and devoid of even the slightest imperfections, created by the kind of mind that couldn't understand the beauty of the imperfect. A logical construct.

Its width took up most of the center of the village, some sixty feet in diameter, and rising into the sky by another hundred feet. The ice about it all was a light blue and white, making it impossible to see within. About its top edges, there were small collected towers. At least, that was at first glance. Etsu herself soon gathered what they were: weapons. Wide, tall, and by the dozen.

It was a veritable fortress. A deromanticized ice palace. It was fit for a king. The kind of king that couldn't muster the will to care. Cold. Hateful. Lost.

"This amount of power . . ." Scott began, "They're really going all out."

Its jagged edges had all the looks of weapons. Blades. Gargantuan, sharpened blades of ice, all fashioned like the blades of executioners. They had to be at least twice the size of Hillcrest's tallest man, and wide enough to collapse a solid structure in a single blow, were any of them to fall. They were perched on edges, held tightly by thick ice, but would fall easily provided the right push--or the right power.

"They're not going to stop, Eld." It wasn't advice. It was a cold, hard fact, deduced by Scott the very moment he gathered the full of what was happening. Eld told him before of their powers, but until Scott saw the extent of it himself, he was skeptical. Not now. Not anymore. The tone of Scott's voice was one befitting a heavy realization, a skeptic realizing how wrong he really was. "Whatever their cause is, why-ever they want what you got--it's enough to die for. Enough to kill for."

Etsu took Eld by the arm. She'd no idea how he was going to react to this, not immediately. She only knew what he'd ultimately resort to. That they weren't leaving Hillcrest.

"Anyone. Everyone, maybe . . ." Scott whispered.

Eld had always tried to keep his business out of the eyes of the village. Thus far he'd been successful; while he had little doubt that most of his neighbors at one point or another had suspected him of being involved in otherworldly business, he'd managed to avoid dragging anyone into his fights. Until now.

It was hard not to feel awe at the structure, but it was overshadowed by darker feelings. Whatever else it was, the ice fortress was a statement of intent: it didn't matter if Eld ran, Toushikyo was staying. There was no practical purpose in building it just to fight one man. Like his brother before him, Toushikyo intended to wipe Hillcrest off the map sooner or later. And he wasn't being nearly as subtle about it.

"Etsu." His voice was quiet, noninflected. She knew him well enough though; she'd know, even without being able to sense his spirit, that he was struggling to keep himself in check. "I'd like you to go around and evacuate everyone who's able to brave the blizzard; get them to the outlying farms. He probably won't attack you if you're not with me, but you should stay out of Illorex's sight if you can anyway." Without her powers, there was nothing Etsu could do against a threat of this magnitude. Even with her naginata, there was no way she could assault a veritable fortress.

He turned to leave; unless interrupted, he would take off the glasses--as far as he was concerned, nothing more needed to be said. There wasn't any other option at this point. He would either defeat Toushikyo once and for all, or die trying.

So . . . this was it. There was no talking Eld out of it, now. He'd thrown the glasses away and stared at the fortress with all the determination she'd ever seen from him. He was going to fight, and there wasn't a thing she could do to stop him . . .

"B-but, Er-rd-kun--" Etsu began.

But that was the end of it. Etsu didn't protest any farther than that. She took a few steps back and bowed at her waist to Eld, acknowledging the order. This was the most she could do to help. The less people there were in range of Toushikyo and Eld, the better off he'd be.

Etsu turned away from him--but took the glasses from the bed before she left. She slid them on her face. Eld had Kageko. He had his support. Etsu, however, was alone. If Scott was still going to willingly support her, then she was going to make as much use of it as possible. Etsu opened the door and stepped through the doorway--but stopped almost immediately after. She hesitated. Didn't know what to say, but felt the dire need to say it. It took her a few seconds to form the words. When she did, the girl half turned.

"Do not die."

There was no argument Etsu could give that would convince Eld not to fight; his home, his family, his friends...everything he knew and loved was threatened by this turn of events. If he abandoned them now simply to save himself, he didn't deserve to live anyway. He knew, ultimately, Etsu felt the same way; Hillcrest had become an important place to her as well, and she didn't want to see it destroyed either. If she had her powers, he knew she wouldn't hesitate to fight alongside him.

He paused when she spoke again and glanced back to the doorway, his features softening briefly. "I won't. I promise." Etsu wasn't a coward by any means, but she was worried about him, just as he would have been terrified for her if the situation was reversed.

As he walked out into the frozen waste, he asked in his head, Are you ready, Kageko? I'm going to need your help for sure this time.

Etsu left the house shortly before Eld did. Her immediate targets were her friends--and she made no attempts to pretend she wasn't selfish with her priorities. If she had family here, they'd come first--friends and family first, then everyone else.

When Eld asked of Kageko's preparedness, her reply seemed more an acknowledgment of necessity than anything else. I will be, Master.

Kageko was wide awake and prepared, so long as Eld was. The shadeling made a conscious effort to try to keep her concentration strong. If Eld needed the most direct assistance she could provide, Kageko would need to actually stay awake and not collapse on him like she did the last time.

None were outside to behold the creation. As Eld walked the length of the village--which now truly held the appearance of a frozen wasteland--he'd find many a house in the same state of duress as Etsu explained the farmhouse before. Windows iced over. Doors iced over. There were probably people trapped in some of them, but there were too many, and Etsu was likely to take care of this problem on her own whilst leaving Eld to tackle the more difficult problem: the fortress of ice that inhabited the village center.

The fortress would appear even larger to Eld when he was actually close to it. It covered such a wide area, and left only the snaking vines of ice as a route to its upper flat. The whole of it seemed slick to the touch and polished to perfection. The vines of ice would allow a mild amount of added friction, but in this cold, it would only go so well. Reaching the top might prove more than difficult for Eldridge Tsukimono.

. . . Please be careful.

Right.

He walked up to the base of the tower and stared up at it. It was the tallest structure he could ever recall seeing. Even with a boosted jump, there was no chance he was going to get all the way up it at once. And while there was some kind of pattern or something running up it that stuck out, it was otherwise completely smooth. He doubted he could just climb it.

A sigh escaped Eld's lips. He was going to have to do something risky. At least with the ability he'd practiced while training with Etsu, it wasn't as risky as it could be.

It was disturbingly easy to jump onto the roof of a nearby house, even without using any of his powers. He knew he'd gotten stronger since his life became a mess, but it never occurred to him until now that the rate that his physical abilities grew was pretty abnormal as well. He wondered if that had anything to do with his powers as well.

Unlatching the scythe from the holder on his back, he sized up the tower once more. If he didn't get at least halfway up--or even a little further--with his initial jump, there was no way he'd scale the whole thing. He didn't have a good enough grasp on his limits yet to know how high he'd get, but he had to try.

He backed up, got a running start, and leaped at the very edge of the building, worried slightly belatedly that he might accidentally put a hole through it with his strength burst, but fortunately jumping from over the wall let it handle the force. Focusing on his Qi, he used it to buffet him, send him higher in the air still, and just he reached the tower he swung the scythe into it like an ice pick.

Knowing he'd do best if he kept as much momentum as possible, he unleashed another burst of strength, this time in his arms, pulling himself with enough force to launch him into the air again and pull out the scythe on his way up. It was going to be close...using two strength bursts so soon was hard enough on his body even when used in different limbs; he didn't want to risk a third.

But then he was over the top, mere inches to spare as he landed lightly on the roof of the tower, quickly taking stock of his surroundings, looking for Toushikyo in particular.

The top of the tower was almost like standing at a different altitude. The first thing Eld would notice was how truly stifling the air was. It was impossible to draw in the air up there without feeling cold inside. It was practically submerged in a mist of sorts--a chilling fog that would almost feel thick upon the skin. Just standing still would present a heavy feeling within the mist--and to make matters worse, Eld would actually be hard pressed to simply blow it all away.

The blades themselves were taller than they might have seemed from the ground, practically piercing the mist of the air. It was next to impossible to see under the "floor," a surface far from translucent, which Eld would find to have amazing degrees of friction. He'd be able to walk on it just fine, regardless of how perfectly flat it was. Of how utterly gray it was.

Toushikyo was poised upon the far end, the opposite end from Eld. Between two blades of ice, he was seated upon a tall construction of ice, hollow unlike the floor. It reached almost as tall as the blades themselves, the back of a chair-- a throne --of ice. The man was slouched in it, his hands limply hung from the edge of his throne's arms, and his head lulled to the left, his chin nearly leaned against his own shoulder in inertia. A light blue robe, Cizokian in make-- one vaguely reminiscent of a warrior's kimono --hung loosely about his figure. Even after Eld was upon his plain, he made no motion to look away from the cloudy floor before him.

He did, however, speak:

"Make a landmark. Something threatening. Somewhere important to him," he began--however . . . changed his voice seemed. Eld would hear him just fine--but even then, he'd hear how toneless he was. So different from what Eld might remember, memories of Toushikyo that would all be so clear as day. "And he'll come eventually. You needn't actually threaten. You needn't even kill. But . . . you can, if you really want to. They're just humans, anyways. Nothing of value."

Before, his voice was harsh. Always so harsh. As if he were trying to be cold and hateful. Sometimes, he was angry. Other times, he was simply harsh in disinterest. But now . . . something was missing. Something was off. His voice was hazy. Distant. Gone. Something had left him completely. Something that might never come back. Something that reduced him.

A shell king of a shell palace. Cold, with the last range of feeling revoked of him. The tone of harshness removed from his emotional vocabulary.

"I suppose you're here to kill me before I can," Toushikyo rolled his head back to center, and with tired eyes, looked to Eld at long last. "Am I right, Tsukimono?"

Toushikyo was...different than before. He'd actively spited Eld before, without any clear reason. Now that he had good reason...there was nothing. It was almost chilling. Had his sibling's death somehow affected him profoundly? Or was it something else? He didn't know the man enough to really judge.

But it was also saddening. Eld didn't have any real siblings, but he had friends that were as close. If they were killed, he knew he wouldn't be in control of himself, no matter what the reason. The fact that Toushikyo was somehow perfectly calm--not even visibly holding back anything, just empty--was...sad.

"It doesn't have to be this way," he said quietly. He didn't let his guard down, but he lowered his weapon. "I don't have any quarrel with you. Stop all this-" he gestured around to the weather and the fort itself, "-and leave."

He had no love Toushikyo; unlike some of the other Memories he'd met, there wasn't anything redeeming he saw in the man. But Eld wasn't a person who liked to kill in any circumstance...and he owed a great deal to his sister. He didn't want to repay her by killing her brother.

"And then . . . what?" Toushikyo asked.

Slowly but surely, he leaned forward. He traced his fingers across the edges of the throne's arms. His throne was not ornately decorated, nor were the blades. The structure seemed constructed simply to intimidate alone. It had the potential to cause damage. It could if Toushikyo wanted it to. But that was all. It was all so bland. So devoid of detail. So empty of passion.

"Return to nothing?" He leaned back. "Here, I stand only to gain. We'll fight, and either I'll kill you and take the Dusk Remnant from your cold dead hands . . ."

He paused at length. There was no enmity in his voice. Nothing. It hadn't changed since the first word he said upon Eld's arrival, and there was a strong chance it wouldn't in the near future, either.

"Or you'll kill me." Toushikyo rolled his shoulders and let his hands go limp again. "Two steps in completely different directions, but direction nonethelesss . . ."

The way he thought made no sense to Eld. How could he be so cold? That he'd consider his own death an improvement over his current situation, that he'd kill Eld...for what? For some weapon he hardly knew anything about?

"Is that really all you're fighting me for? Just for this?" He waved the scythe in demonstration; to Eld, Kageko was an important friend...and maybe more. He wouldn't trade her for everything. But the Memories didn't seem to know about her, and if they did he had no doubt they didn't care about her. They just saw her as a weapon.

"I don't understand." He shook his head sadly. Why anyone would throw their lives away so readily wasn't something he thought he'd ever understand...and part of him hoped he never would.

"My . . . father. My brother. My sister . . . they're dead. Because of you." Toushikyo trailed off. He looked into the sky. In the settled mist, it was impossible to see. "I want to hate you for killing them. I want to hate you with every fiber of my being."

Toushikyo leaned forward. This time, it wasn't temporary. This time, he actually stood from the throne. He did not progress, however. The way he spoke, then . . . it should have carried a tone. The subject matter should have brought him to passion, but it didn't. Toushikyo was unaffected by it all. His words could have carried all the passion in the world, but they didn't. It was missing. Not even loathing remained. All he had left was the want of it. Of any of it. Any feeling beyond this numbness . . .

Or death.

"And I want to be sad for them. But I can't. It's just . . ." he set his hand upon his heart, "Empty. Nothing's there. Can you imagine that? Most of your family dead, and you don't even have the heart to mourn them? Or hate the man that took them away? Or . . . even feel the smallest want for revenge? Vindication for killing their murderer? Any of it. They all loved you, and you can't feel happy about that. You look back on the past and you're numb. And that's all. The cold's given way to numbness."

Toushikyo drew his hand away from where his heart should be, and held it out towards the scythe of Eldridge Tsukimono's. It was an artifact he'd kill for. An artifact he'd willingly die for.

"And your only chances to change it all are held in the killer's hands," Toushikyo finally concluded, "It's the ultimate joke, and you can't even muster a sneer of revulsion."

A lot of what Toushikyo said didn't make any sense to Eld. He talked as though he was incapable of feeling...but he also seemed to want to repay his family, so wasn't that a feeling too? And he couldn't recall ever having met his father...so perhaps he was just crazy. But while the way he acted wasn't something Eld could understand, it didn't seem totally insane, either.

"I'm sorry..." Regardless of what else he said, he was right about one thing though: Eld was more or less responsible for the deaths of his siblings. Whether he'd struck the killing blow himself, or was just unable to save someone.

Under other circumstances, he might have simply laid down his scythe and walked away--he didn't want to keep fighting and killing, especially when the people who raised arms against him were by and large not bad people. But Kageko wasn't simply some weapon to be used and discarded on a whim; trapped though she was, she was as much of a person as any of them, and Eld refused to abandon her. Besides...

"...but I made a promise not to hand her over. To protect her with all my might. It's as important to me as anything is."

He made one more try, futile though it likely was. "That promise was to your sister; if you really want to honor her, leave this place...and leave me alone."

Toushikyo stared at Eld for a long time. To him, it felt like minutes. To Eld, it might have felt like hours. In truth, it was only a few seconds.

"Perhaps . . ." he broke the silence.

Toushikyo shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. Better judgment should have told him to leave. Self preservation should have told him to end the fighting before it began. But he hadn't any of those anymore. They were lost with everything else--and he hadn't even the want of them anymore.

"Perhaps I'll feel regret, for dishonoring her memory . . ." Toushikyo trailed off.

Toushikyo leaned back on his right leg, while his left, out in front of him, straightened in a slant. He drew his arms up, barely tensed as they were, and his hands up near his face--two feet from his skull, and fashioned in the pantomime of collectively holding something. There was a flash of light, however brief it was, however muffled by the mist. It wasn't strong enough to blind anyone, not Eld or Toushikyo. Eld would see the weapon as it manifested: progressively growing as ice crystals gathered in Toushikyo's hand:

A blade. As it built itself quickly in his hands, the very style of it would be clear. It was a katana, but lacked the characteristic curve that the Cizokian weapons were mostly known for. The blade ran parallel to the ground and grew out, its tip perfectly in Eld's direction. It was a two handed blade with the height and width of the average katana--roughly three and a half feet long. Last week, had this happened, Toushikyo would have narrowed his eyes at Eld. Instead, he could only stare at him blankly.

". . . When I can."