35 Stonegarden Castle / The Child of Stonegarden

Previously, on Usagi Days: The four Usagis are forced to battle each other to the death in the castle coliseum. Unsure what to do, they are interrupted by a horrific screeching sound that rings out throughout Stonegarden.

- 35.1 - See the Child -

The Child had a name, once.

A name given to her by her mother and father.

Her father ruffled her hair. "Don't worry, my little treasure. The King is a good man! He is only cruel to those who will not bend the knee. We are good people. We have nothing to worry about."

She giggled, and pressed her face into her father's arms.

She didn't quite understand everything that was going on. Last week she was living in their peaceful village. Farmland that stretched for miles. The buzz of cicadas in the summer.

And now she found herself enclosed within these strange, stone walls. Her friends, her neighbors—all nowhere to be found.

But her mother and father didn't seem to worry about their new life. The King had given them a nice little shack within the castle walls. It wasn't very big, but she, along with her baby brother, lived cozily together in the one-room shack. Together with their mother and father.

They seemed to believe in the King.

So she, too, would believe in the King.

- 35.2 - Hard Times -

Her mother worked in the kitchens. Her father worked in the foundry.

They looked unhappy all the time. Worried.

They always did their best to smile around the Child and her brother, but she knew the King was unhappy with their work. Her mother was always breaking plates, or burning the roast. And her father's swords and axes never passed muster.

In the old village, they had been artists. Painters. Poets. Not cooks, not smiths. But the castle had no need for more artists.

"It's okay, my little treasure. The King is patient. He is understanding. It's a new job for both of us, he understands! Everything will be okay."

- 35.3 - Another Pit -

But everything did not turn out okay.

One day, all four family members were led deep into the cold, stone depths of the castle, by the King and a few guards.

The Child gripped her father's hand tightly. She didn't know it could be so dark in all the world. So cold.

After walking for what seemed like hours, they arrived at the precipice of a pit that, for all the Child knew, was bottomless.

Her baby brother was the first to go in.

Tossed by the King, like common refuse, into that gaping, black hole.

He never made a sound.

The Child's mother and father fell to their knees. She'd never heard them make the noises they made that day.

Her mother was next. The King forcing her out of her husband's arms. Into the hole. The Child would remember for the rest of her life the sight of her mother's arms as they disappeared into that void. Trying to reach out for her husband. Her daughter.

With each body that flew into the pit, the King's presence seemed to grow thicker. Heavier. Taller, even. (The Child didn't notice this at the time—but her brain did.)

The father flew into a rage. He managed to dispatch two guards, before the King managed to subdue him in a chokehold.

Tearfully, his last words to the Child: "Run. My little treasure. Run."

So she did.

She never did see what happened to her father.

But she could hear the King's laughter behind her, as she pumped her tiny legs as fast as she could, her heart beating out of her chest. Not knowing where she was supposed to go. The King's footsteps seemingly always right behind her.

She didn't look back.

She just ran.

- 35.4 - Life Outside -

The Child didn't know how she found her way out.

She crawled through foul-smelling, narrow spaces—spaces the King had no chance of fitting through—and eventually emerged out the side of the castle, through a drainage channel that emptied out into the moat.

She spent the next few years roaming the Wastes. Surviving.

Stealing was wrong, but she had no choice. Food, clothing, medicine. It was either steal, or perish. She couldn't rely on anyone. She didn't trust anyone.

Stonegarden Castle grew rapidly, over the years. Sometimes overnight. She watched it all, from a distance.

The Pit. The King. The Castle.

… What exactly had she witnessed, that fateful day?

- 35.5 - Journeys, Teachings -

When she came of age, the Child set out, in search of knowledge.

Her pursuit took her across the continent. To Far-Off Lands, where she learned new languages, and adapted to the ways of different tribes, different peoples. She met many teachers, mentors. Some wiser than others. Those who had spent their lives in thought and meditation.

She served under them—too many to count—over several years. As a disciple. As an apprentice. A student.

Their strict teachings. Their cruel tutelage.

She learned many things, but the most important conclusion, she came to by herself—and that was, if you had one hundred thinkers in a room, you would end up with one hundred different interpretations of the Orcs and their SDF.

… It was not that Orc-tech was open to subjective interpretation. Rather, it was that the concept of Orc-tech did not describe or adhere to any one uniform thought or process.

Sensei (not one particular Sensei, but some amalgam of all the wise men and women she learned under): "Do you know what the most terrifying aspect of the Orcs is, Child?

"It is their ability to manifest a will into reality.

"If one Orc wishes to come to Earth, he will invent a way to do so. Instantly. On the spot.

"If another wishes the same, he, too will invent, in his own individual manner, a way to do so.

"In an instant, you have two viable, independent manners of spaceflight and faster-than-light travel. And both are subsequently discarded, and forgotten, until the next time some other Orc requires the means for interstellar travel. Then it is invented again, in some other way.

"Thus, you have a million different pieces of Orc-tech scattered around our planet. No two completely alike in the same way.

"Terrifying, Child. Terrifying.

"Under such casual genius—how could humans have ever stood a chance?"

- 35.6 - Return -

When the Child attained the knowledge she sought, she returned to the Southern Wastes.

… But she was no longer the Child. Now she carried with pride the different titles bestowed upon her by her various teachers.

Silver. Ghost. Phantom. Noble Heart. (… And later, 'Sylvie'.)

She had a plan for her revenge. Now she just needed to look for someone who could help her. … Someone with the right tools.

- 35.7 - Getaway -

Sylvie gunned the Hayate, headed for the gates.

"… I'm sorry," she whispered again, even as Anemone was being swarmed by guards back at the castle keep. "… Just hold out. Just for a bit."

Sylvie had to get out. If she stayed, there would be no chance for any of them.

She reached the gate. The Hayate shot up the drawbridge as it closed, the guards trying to shut it before she could get through—

—but she made it, somehow. Just barely.

Sylvie flew over the moat, and landed with a thud on the other side. She rode hard, away from the castle.

- 35.8 - The Pit -

Once she had lost the Knights on her tail, she returned to the castle.

She entered through the same sewer opening she'd escaped from as a child—the one she had found after losing her entire family. Over months, she'd quietly built up a raised dirt platform by the moat, careful not to draw attention.

After navigating the Hayate through the sewers, she reached the place she saw in her nightmares.

The bottomless pit the King had cast her father, mother, and brother into. She was back.

She placed a rag in the gas tank, lit it on fire. Then she placed the Hayate in neutral, and let the slight incline leading to the Pit carry it forward.

As she watched it go, she lit a cigar, and took a puff. She scowled in disgust, and then put it out. "Usagi-chan's right. These things are disgusting."

The Hayate fell into the Pit, without a sound. After a long silence, the ground began to shake.

And then the castle screamed.