"O-okay . . ." the boy sniffled.

He was ready to be helped up and taken back to the clinic. It was probably the best place for him. That way he could be with his father, too, which would certainly put his father at ease, once Eld's parents saved his life--which they no doubt would. Hypothermic shock was only fatal if left untreated (for a few minutes, actually; fortunately, they get him right around the time it hit), and there were things nearby to drop the body's temperature again.

But Eld asked another question--and the boy going to the clinic would suddenly have to wait a little longer.

"Th-they got up . . ." he replied, "A-and-- and they walked away-- and-- and they didn't hear me, a-and they didn't even yell at me when I ran in front of them!"

Odd, Etsu thought to herself.

"Are mommy and Lizzie ghosts . . .?" the boy finally sniffled.

And now, more than before, her finding seemed absolutely relevant. "Er-rd-kun, there is some-one in the fier-rd."

Eld also thought it was odd, but in response to the boy's question he smiled. That was something he could answer with absolute certainty. "They are definitely not ghosts," he assured him. He would probably have been the first to know if they were.

When Etsu spoke up, though, Eld frowned; he was fairly certain that was their entire family, and no one else had business being in the fields. Might be trouble.

"Sorry," he said to the boy, "I'll take you to the clinic in just a minute. There's something I have to check out."

He looked around, and spotting the two things he wanted to see fairly quickly. The first was the naginata left behind earlier. "Etsu!" he called, not loudly but enough to get her attention, at which point he'd toss it lightly over to her.

The second thing was on the wall of the barn, leaning against it among a row of other tools--an old farming scythe. He grabbed it quickly, before heading to the door with Etsu to take a look.

Etsu glanced to him when he called for her, only to be scared almost half to death. That . . . that could have ended horribly! She caught the naginata, but not without almost having a heart attack. Did he even know how sharp she kept her blade? It was practically an obsession of hers! If it couldn't cut through skin and bone like air, then it clearly wasn't sharp enough, and she'd just sharpened it again the other day.

She gave him a stare which, again, would say what she wanted to say more than words would have, and that message was simple: please don't do that ever again.

Oddly enough, that old farming scythe was misplaced. It wasn't with the rest of the tools, like it should have been. It was set beyond them, and leaning up against a wall. Of course, that would be of little consequence, but there was a place where it was supposed to hang. It just was set off to the side from it.

Outside of the barn, Etsu was cautious. She walked slowly towards the field--hesitantly, in fact. But, there was something about it. There was no reason for hesitation, actually. That was the odd part.

"Er-rd-kun-- I do no feer-r st-rong spirit," she remarked.

Of course, Eld would feel a spirit, just like he did with anyone and everyone. It just wasn't one like Toushikyo's and Hugh's.

"S-Sorry," Eld murmured bashfully at Etsu's glare; he hadn't tossed it that hard, and knew she had good enough reflexes to catch it anyway.

When she started to move, he kept pace with her, but said, "Still, be careful. Just because their spirit is normal doesn't mean they're not dangerous." Especially if they had a gun; even a Reaper couldn't dodge bullets, other than going into Purgatory and avoiding the combatant entirely. And there were people like Sergei, who seemed to have abilities not related to Qi.

He tried to remain as quiet as possible, wanting to get close enough to see who it was before calling attention to them.

"Hai," she nodded in compliance.

Rather than just keeping her naginata in her right hand, passively, she held it parallel to the ground, with the middle-side of the pole up against her belly. Sure, she had to stand a couple feet away from Eld, but that just was the price she'd have to pay if she wanted to be safe. If this was an enemy, she didn't want to be caught off guard. That always ended poorly.

The field was a ways away, fairly distant, in fact, up close to the Krigenson farmhouse. It was where they grew wheat for sale. Most of their crop was sold, rather than consumed by the family. They produced much more than three people needed. It was a business for them, and their business went well. Until today.

The closer they got, the better they could see the person. Female, somewhat heavy set, still in her pajamas . . .

"It is Krigenson-sama's wife," Etsu declared outright.

Etsu let herself set her weapon at her side, passively. There was no need to be defensive--it was just a middle aged woman harvesting wheat.

Eld lowered his guard a bit upon seeing her, but there were two things very wrong still. The first was what the boy said, about his mom and sister walking out without acknowledging him--no mother would ever do that, not seeing their son as scared as he was.

The second was that no farmer ever tended the fields in their pajamas.

He had no reason to believe that he'd be any more successful getting her attention than her son, but he tried it anyway. "Umm...excuse me...ma'am?'

There was no reply.

She had a farming scythe of her own in her hands, one of a couple on the property. Cutting and harvesting wheat was tough; it was a lot of work, and scythes made it so much easier. She was having no problem, it seemed. The blade cut through a vast number of stocks with the first swing. Then, she stepped forward and swung back the way it came, taking out more stock before her. Then, she did it again--twice, and stopped. Without a word, she dragged her basket close, bent down, and lifted an armload of wheat up and deposited it in the tall basket. Once she'd collected it all, she went back to cutting.

Etsu watched it happened for a first time, before grabbing onto Eld's shirt to keep him from getting close to her when she wasn't cleaving down stocks of wheat. Once she stopped again, Etsu let go. She took precautionary measures like that sometimes!

If Eld were to try and get a closer look at her, he'd find that there was no life left in the woman's eyes. They were hazy--the same color as they used to be, brown, but hazed and clouded over, as if she were already dead. Dead inside, perhaps. But she had a soul. There was spirit left, the same as any normal person.

And yet no words could reach her-- nor could even something as forward as physical contact. She simply acted out the routine of everyday life, mindlessly, and if someone happened to be standing in her way when she was cutting wheat, they'd soon find themselves legless, or dead.

Eld got no reply, but he hadn't truly expected one. He wondered what was going on, and when she stopped swinging and started gathering some of the wheat he moved closer to take a look.

What he saw, he did not like. Not at all. He numbly let Etsu pull him back a little bit when the woman picked up the scythe again. "This...it's horrible. Why...? Why would anyone do this?"

It was difficult to describe, but the way she moved, her eyes, expression...it was all...lifeless. No, maybe a better term was soulless. He could still feel her spirit, but it was as though she was now little more than just a body moving out of habit.

"Just to get at...me?" It was all made worse by the fact that he knew they'd suffered this fate trying to protect him. Krigenson had known he had the scythe, and he hadn't wanted to sell him out. How many times was this, now? People coming to the village, because they knew who he was, what he was, what he could do...and now what he possessed.

Eld dropped to his knees. A lot of terrible things had happened lately, but this...turning people into living dolls...this was the worst. And once more it was his fault...

Etsu had never seen someone like that before, so distant, so empty-- completely devoid of identity, like a literal zombie of the mind, acting entirely out of habits that the brain used to know. How could someone become like this? Etsu had no answer.

A slight sound, distant, made her jump. She turned hesitantly, only to see Eliza Krigenson leaving the pig pen. She was covered in mud, but did the task all the same, and tirelessly moved on to the next task: checking the chickens. Etsu could see her face somewhat; it was glossy and blank, entirely empty. Another living doll.

She looked away. It was a horrible thought. What would it be like to be them? To be completely empty? Did they even know they were alive anymore? Were they conscious? Did they dream? Or were they in an eternal coma? And, for that matter, was it reversible? Etsu didn't know, but she was sure there was some way to help these people. She was about to voice her thoughts about that when she looked to Eld again--only to refrain instantly.

"Er-rd-kun . . ." she whispered, before taking a couple of slow steps towards him.

He'd feel a warmth around him, as Etsu wrapped her arms around his chest, from behind him, leaning down to hold onto him comfortingly. It was the same thing she'd done before, when he couldn't do anything short of sob after passing Remmy on. And again, it was one of the only thing she could do for him-- though, this time, she knew him better, and could comfort him better, and not feel awkward for pressing up against his back like she did, or leaning her cheek against the side of his head, or holding him tight against her.

"It is o-kay," she whispered reassuringly, "We can her-rp them."

"Y-Yeah, you're right." He placed his free hand over one of hers as he stood up, and turned to face her. This wasn't the time to be blaming himself; fixing what was wrong was more important. And there just had to be a way to fix it. "Thank you, Etsu."

For a few moments he just stood there, clasping her hand, his eyes meeting hers. I still love you. You know that, right? He wanted to say it--he really did. But now wasn't the time. Especially not as a person who acted without regard to others was swinging a scythe nearby.

"...I don't think it's a good idea to leave that with her," he commented, breaking the short silence. Waiting for her to pause again, he moved and took the scythe from her grasp--she still only had normal strength, so it wouldn't be difficult for Eld to do.

"Let's go get him to the clinic." Now hefting a scythe in each hand, he started to make his way back to the barn.

For what felt like hours, Etsu stared up at Eld's face. She didn't let go of his hand, nor did she move away. In fact, she felt the urge to stand a little closer--but she didn't give into that urge. Why? Truth be told, Etsu didn't really know. All she could do was look into his eyes. Even with an almost stoic expression, her eyes were human--and even if Eld could only see one of them, it was more than enough to see inside her, and how far from a doll she, herself, really was--much contrary to the popular belief, when everyone first met her.

Without realizing it herself, Etsu gave him a slight knowing smile--so slight, barely noticeable, but of course, Eld knew her well enough to notice; he'd even know her well enough to know that a stoic visage wasn't a mask, and that more often than not, the way she looked at people said more than words ever could!

But the moment was broken when reality came back to them. Etsu slowly moved her gaze from Eld to the woman, before nodding. Though, at first, Eld would find that she was still hold his hand when he started to step away from her. Once she realized she was still holding his hand, she let go, and allowed him to do as he intended.

The boy was still in the barn. He hadn't moved a muscle. Getting him to agree to go to the clinic was easy enough.

Now it was just a matter of how Eld intended to tell his parents about this . . .

Most people who saw Etsu tending to think she was stoic and cold, but Eld knew better. But where other people just saw a stony mask, Eld could see the small shifts in her demeanor and tell how she felt...her eyes in particular were as expressive as anyone else's. And the smile she gave him, small as it was, still made his heart beat faster than ever...

But it was a short moment, and they didn't have much time to savor it. They soon were heading back to the barn, Eld with both scythes in hand. He stashed one out of reach--he didn't want Mrs. Krigenson to grab it again--but he kept the other for now. He had an idea...

The boy was brought back to the clinic, where it was learned that his father was sleeping but would be okay. To his parents, he simply claimed that the boy was worried and that the girls at the farm were trying to make up for Mr. Krigenson's absence by getting more work done. Which would seem true, so long as no one looked too closely at them.

Whether or not Rebbecca and Urikuse bought the explanation for it (he didn't even try to explain why he had hypothermia to begin with) was another matter, but he figured they'd be too busy at the clinic to check things out themselves--and if all went well, by tonight things would be fixed.

He spent the rest of the day preparing or simply sitting quietly with Etsu--the hill, for all that had happened there, was still one of his favorite places, and it was especially beautiful at sunset. Part of his reason for choosing it was it set a much more mellow mood, and he wanted to avoid fighting if possible.

Of course, that was assuming the man named Illorex even showed up.

Etsu Hikane sat next to Eld on the hill, Eld's favorite spot in Hillcrest. She put no distance between them, but aside from sitting next to him, she did nothing more than hug her knees to her chest, and lean her cheek upon her arms.

As serene as she felt next to Eld, Etsu couldn't help her own anxieties. She just kept thinking about these names. Toushikyo, Hugh, Kyla, Illorex, and this mysterious Gestahl. Toushikyo didn't recognize spiritual energy, but what if any of the others did? If Illorex knew of his own spiritual presence, and could use it somehow . . .

Simply because that's who they were supposed to be meeting up here, Etsu was concerned. There was an easy escape route, but there was a high probably that they might break their necks on the way down. That wasn't good. Risks like that needed to be avoided. Unfortunately, this whole place was a bit of a risk. Their only escape route, if all else failed, might be more dangerous than Illorex himself.

Still, though, she tried to remain as calm as she absolutely could. The sunset was beautiful, and she was in good company--but still. Etsu tried to relax a little bit, letting go of her legs and sitting up straight, but something still felt off. This was discovered when she lifted her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating hard and fast. It kind of hurt, actually. She just couldn't find it in her to relax.

"Do you think he wir-rr do it to us, too?" Etsu finally asked.

For some reason, the thought scared the ever living hell out of her. Even the risk of that happening, not a guarantee, kind of made her not want to be hear. She had her naginata by her other side, but what if that did not good?

Eld, too, was worried. He'd made a plan, and was ready to carry it out if need be--but there was a lot that could go wrong, too. Even if he succeeded, there was no telling how long it would last, how long before one or all of them came back. But he had to try...he couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Etsu's question startled him a bit--she'd been silent for so long, he hadn't expected it. She was a very brave person, but the prospect of that kind of fate...even she had to be worried, naturally. He was too. He wondered what his body would do, what Etsu's would, if they ended up like that. They didn't have much of a daily routine, after all...

"...I don't know," he admitted. "I'm hoping to just talk to him...and that he won't even try." He reached over and placed his hand over Etsu's, squeezing it to reassure her...or at least to remind her that she wasn't alone in this. "But if he does...I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen. To us, or to anyone else."

Etsu squeezed Eld's hand a little when he held it reassuringly. They were both a little scared, and understandably so. Even if this man didn't do to them what he did to those other poor people-- he had such a massive spiritual presence, that it might not have even been possible to hurt him if he tried to attack them. Etsu didn't really know for sure. It was a theory of hers, like many other doomsday scenarios like it.

But Eld was here, after all. If anyone could make a miracle, it was him. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him, and although it was faint, she still smiled at him--an appreciative smile. In Eld's hands, everyone would be all right.

The moment didn't last long. Only a minute passed before Etsu felt noticeably heavier. Her fingers loosened from around Eld's, as she worked somewhat to remain sitting up straight. It was like gravity itself was rebelling against them, but not nearly as much as it could have. Still, just what the hell was it?

"He . . . is here," Etsu whispered.

Accompanying it was a familiarly strong sensation. Someone of great power was nearby. Etsu moved her hands over, letting go of Eld entirely in order to grab her naginata. She was ready to stand at any time, but was afraid that, sitting so close to the steep slope of the hill, gravity might drag her down if she tried. She wasn't far from the truth, either. They'd have to scoot back before they even tried. And even still, the presence wasn't exuding nearly as much Qi as it could have. For that matter, it wasn't resonating unnaturally. He wasn't even trying to release this much spiritual energy into the air around him. It just happened naturally.

The man standing before them said nothing. He didn't need to. Eld had asked him here to have words with him, but it seemed Eld was the only one with anything to say.

If he could even speak to the half-masked man, with a stare aimed at Eld's heart--a stare that might have even felt like a power within itself. Even the bravest of men would have been greatly unnerved by it, let alone to horrid amount of Qi he exuded . . .