The news of having one of their imperial officers vanish from the city-state reached the court mage's ears. No doubt he found the gossip to be utterly delicious, the thought of his little magic user causing mayhem would be exquisite, if not for the fact that the Emperor had sent him to find her on his behest. The court mage's sardonic, mischievous grin quickly faded when he had to find the girl himself.

Supposing that the girl somehow managed to abscond from Gelid meant that someone must've found her and took her away to the nearest civilization in the south. In other words, his magic user must be hiding in the only kingdom that has connections with the Empire — Vigoreaux.

Three Magitanks made their way to Vigoreaux castle after having received a letter from the king. On their way towards the treacherous dunes of the desert, the Magitanks had suffered a malfunction when four massive desert scorpions rendered the automatons useless by piercing the heavy metal and damaging the catalytic converter located on the back interior of the Magitank. The restricted movements of the machinery and the leak of oil spewing on the sand was a fire hazard. Fortunately, the trained soldiers pressed the emergency eject button in time before the Magitanks exploded along with the massive desert scorpions surrounding it. They were propelled 18 feet in the air before landing unceremoniously to the sand under the ravenous heat of the Sun.

"Phooey! Emperor Erthil's stupid orders!" The court mage was irate on his way to the desert, accompanied by two mediocre Magitech soldiers. His red and white makeup cracked against his pores as the sweat dripped down his neck, making his ruffled collar itch. His feathered headdress threatened to fall off while he gnashed his teeth. "Roni, you pinhead! Why do you have to live in the middle of nowhere? These recon jobs are the pits!" The general stomped into the sand before it sunk past his ankles. "Ahem...there's SAND on my boots!" The soldiers took a turn to wipe off the sand from his boots.

“All gone sir!” They chorused before he erupted with a cackle.

“Idiots.” Fload flipped his cape over his shoulder as he proceeded with his march toward Vigoreaux castle while his two foot soldiers followed in tow.

They were moving quickly over the desert sands and could see a faint dark blob on the horizon line that transformed into the tall stone walls that surrounded Vigoreaux castle as the small group got closer.

“Vigoreaux doesn’t mess around when they get wind of allies in their kingdom, do they?”

“Nope, though I don’t blame them, what with all that’s been happening as of late.”

“It’s a bit strange though, compared to Oranda and all.”

“You shouldn’t compare the kingdom of Vigoreaux to a little hole in the wall with a couple of nobles running everything. Completely different attitudes.”

“Would you two shut your noise holes back there, or should I do it for you?” their superior officer up ahead snapped.

Instead of replying, the two Imperial soldiers clammed up and exchanged glances from their cockpits. They knew better than to reply, even with a “yes sir!,” with General Fload in the mood he was in that day.

The soldiers kept working the buttons and levers of their suits as they walked along through the desert. Warm air was pushed back out with a new ventilation system designed recently to keep the suits cool. Not only did this system keep the armor from overheating, which was a big problem when they were first designed and tested in hotter climates, but it helped the soldiers within focus more comfortably and keep from dying of heatstroke.

“Look alert, men. We’re approaching the castle gates,” Fload shouted after a few minutes of quiet travel, causing both of his men to jump at his sudden announcement.

“Yes sir!” they replied in unison. 

Men in dark green uniforms on chocoback could be seen patrolling the gates, and soon the high flying Vigoreauxan flags were visible.

“Excuse me!” called one of the Vigoreauxeon guard as he trotted up to General Fload.

"Out of my way!" Fload commanded, it would have been unwise to defy the Erthilian General due to the fact that his guards were heavily armed riding a Magitank. The Vigoreauxeon guards stepped aside to let the general pass.

Inside they were lined with soldiers dressed in black military uniforms, each carrying an array of weapons.

“Sir Fload, what on earth are you doing here already? We haven’t received a reply letter from you, as far as I know, and-”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? It is of the utmost importance that I have the attentions of your king. Let King Roni know that I need an audience with him immediately.” Fload nearly ran over the guard as he hurried past in his armor before bringing it to an abrupt stop and hopped out of the cockpit with a flutter of his light red cape.

His two Imperial soldiers stopped their armors in line with their general’s, and climbed out to await further orders. Their Magitech suits were not far from the castle gates, and upon King Roni’s request months before, they could not leave their armor in the chocobo stables any longer. Apparently the weapons put the large birds on edge.

The guard Fload almost plowed over dismounted from his chocobo and scrambled into the castle to announce their arrival.

Four more of the Vigoreuxan guard came up and greeted the Imperials, as custom commanded, but one lingered. He caught Fload’s eye and nodded once before retreating to his assigned post.

General Fload gave no sign of acknowledgment, and instead surveyed his men for a moment with a critical eye.

“Adjust your coats and shirts, men. You don’t want to dishonor the Emperor by looking like mere wretches in the streets of Zozo, do you?” Fload checked his own attire as he spoke, straightening his gold buttons and pins on his high collar.

A Vigoreauxan guardsman emerged from the front entrance of the castle, “Pardon me, Sir Fload, please follow me. His grace will see you once we notify him of your arrival.”

The ladies-in-waiting were strolling in the courtyard when they saw the imperial guards approach, Liesserl snagged a glance at the general as the royal guard escorted them to the throne room. Sinead grabbed Liesserl by the wrist.

“Are you crazy?” Sinead half-whispered, half scolded her. “Do you want them to kill you?”

“Why are you acting paranoid? It's not like they came all this way to burn the castle down.” Liesserl scoffed as she wrung her wrist from Sinead's grip.

“I would expect this kind of ignorance from Irene or Guinivere, but not you. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to draw attention from the likes of Stalin.” Sinead chided.

“I'm sure that our handsome majesty is capable to keep the kingdom safe from someone like Fload Stalin. Have a little faith.” Liesserl assured.

“We're not sure how long King Roni will keep that witch hidden. I have a hunch that something will go wrong.” Sinead stated as she eyed the entrance.

The castle courtyard was a teeming with activity, as was usual around midday, what with the merchants shouting, somewhat aggressively at passersby to take a look at their wares, the children running around chasing each other or clinging to their mother's skirts, and the general noise of footsteps on stone. The whole affair was intensely exciting to witness, Gemma found, as she and Keylla wandered around the rows of merchant stalls at a leisurely pace. 

As they were passing one particular merchant stall, which had many different types of jewelry and oddments of fabric, the owner jumped up from his stool and shouted, "HEY! YOU!" The man pointed at Keylla's head, causing the pair to stop, looking bewilderedly back and forth between each other and the merchant. 

Keylla quirked her eyebrows up, "You talking to me?" Other people in the area stopped and turned in their direction at the sudden outburst.

"Yeah! You owe me a few hundred gil, ya thief!" The man's mustache nearly obscured his mouth, but only accentuated his frown all the more. He wiped at the sweat at his temple with his other hand, eyes livid.

"'Scuse me, sir, but you have to have me confused with somebody else..." And before Keylla could finish her sentence, the merchant shouted that he definitely remembered the vagrant who swiped three necklaces, a golden pocket watch, several earrings, and some rings the month before.

"You've got the same stupid bandanas tied around your head and the same dusty patched up jacket! I know it's you!" The merchant was nearly hopping up and down as he shouted at Keylla. Gemma backed up a pace, nearly bumping into a blonde woman with two children who had stopped to watch the show. 

She heard Keylla reply with an edge in her voice about how she wasn't a bloody thief, but the rest was lost on her as she saw a sudden break in the crowd and a Vigoreuxan guardsman sprinting towards the main doors leading into the castle. 

Keylla grabbed Gemma's hand and brought her back into the conversation, "Isn't that right, huh? I was with you last month! I wasn't even here to steal anything!" even though she was still watching the guard as he disappeared into the doors. Keylla followed her line of sight and then whipped her head back in the other direction towards where the guard had come from. 

"Fuck." She muttered, ignoring the merchant's boisterous claims, and dug a hand into her jeans pocket. She withdrew a leather purse and threw it at the merchant's face before pulling Gemma along after her into the crowd. 

"You've got a knife or two on ya, right?" Keylla asked loud enough to be heard over the clamor that soon came over the crowds in the marketplace. 

"Yes," came her reply as Keylla slid a hidden dagger from the cuff of her glove into her palm just in case. 

Keylla led Gemma so quickly through the market that she could only see glimpses of what they were running from. People's faces and chocobo beaks got in the way of the very familiar gray uniform making its way through the middle of the courtyard.

Two brown uniformed men followed in his wake with matching helmets that grazed the tops of their eyes. Gemma's heart flopped around in her chest painfully.

Then they were in a small alcove with cold stone walls and the din of the marketplace on the other side of the door.  

 
Roni sat with his legs crossed in his throne waiting for his guests to be announced. Usually, when he would send a note to General Fload or Theo, or even to the Emperor himself, he would receive a reply with an estimated time of arrival, as was one of the agreed upon conditions of the alliance between Vigoreaux and the Empire. Meetings should be announced to both sides to avoid trouble. Despite what was known about Fload's behavior, he was always careful about keeping to rules. This sudden change was unsettling. 

The large doors opened, "King Roni, General Fload and two of his soldiers request an audience with you." His guard bowed a bit and before Roni could even so much as respond to the request, in came Fload. 

Roni's guard was pushed to the side in the process, and shouted, "Sir, you cannot just enter the throne room without permission!" as he staggered into the side of the door. 

"It must be extremely important if the good general cannot wait," Roni gestured for his guards to come into the throne room as well. 

Fload and his soldiers continued in as if they did not hear anything at all and came to a stop a few paces from the steps leading to the thrones. Fload did not drop to one knee as was custom, nor did his men. 

"King Roni, we need to speak about something very important." Fload looked at Roni right in the eyes as he spoke.

"Why yes, we do. Starting with the matter of why you have come into my kingdom without announcing yourselves first, or even asking permission. We have an alliance." 

Fload sneered at this, "We have our reasons." 

"I'm sure you do. And I would be delighted to hear them!" Roni smiled his Vigoreaux smile and rested his chin in his hand, waiting. 

"Before I explain, may I ask if anybody in your castle has seen a girl who escaped from us recently?" Fload's face dropped its sneer and became serious. 

"Oh, a girl, you say?" Roni rose and rubbed his chin in thought. "There are so many girls here that it would be easier to go count all of the grains of sand in the desert! Perhaps you could describe this girl to me over a cup of tea? You and your men must have had a long journey and you must be parched! How about we retire to one of my tearooms while your men join mine in the dining room for refreshments?" 

"Fine," came Fload's response. Roni walked up to one of his guards and asked him to show Fload's soldiers to the dining room. 

Guinevere was in the kitchen, surveying the countless dishes that were being served. A cook had seasoned a massive scorpion that had been boiled and chopped into sections, there were other delicacies ranging from stews, curries, cold cuts, and hors d'oeuvres of all sorts. There were refreshments as well, though the most important part was the tea that was served in gatherings. Ginger tea was the staple of the beverages served around Vigoreaux.

As much as she wanted to consume one of the many dishes, the butler came to the kitchen to check that there wasn't any rodents gobbling the food. Guinevere stood stiff as a statue before the butler eyed her briefly as he went back out of the kitchen, and casted an authoritive glance at her before heading to the tearoom to attend the envoy. She had to leave the kitchen before the butler would return, otherwise he would report the Matron again and she would get in trouble for eating the food that were meant for the guest again.

“Now, if you will be so kind as to follow me, General?” Roni looked at Fload as he said this and proceeded to lead him out of the throne room by way of a curtained doorway.

The passage led to a cozy little tea room with a small fireplace which was not currently lit, and several squashy armchairs in shades of red and green. Guinivere took another route to avoid entering the tearoom when the king negotiated with members of the Empire about important matters.

Roni pulled a rope in the corner of the room for a servant and invited Fload to sit wherever he liked. But Fload did not sit down just yet. He stood erect with his arms folded across his chest, his gray eyes flitting from the little brass candle holders fitted into the stonewalls to the doilies resting on the polished coffee table standing between the armchairs.

The same elderly servant who served the king and his guests breakfast earlier in the day entered the room with a deep bow, but not without a quick glance at the general.

“My liege,” the butler said, awaiting orders.

“General Fload and I would like the tea tray to be brought,” Roni sank into one of the green armchairs as he spoke.

“Yes, your grace,” the butler turned to General Fload and asked if he had any special requests.

“No, thank you.” Fload replied stiffly, not even looking at the butler. Once the servant bowed again and left the tearoom, Fload spoke before Roni could implore him to take a seat as well.

This was Guinevere's chance to leave.

“Did any of your little spies or guards see the girl or not?” Fload’s eyes bored into Roni’s, making it very hard for the king to look away.

“I could do with a description of this girl, General.” Roni replied cooly.

This seemed to make Fload stand even more rigid. “She would stand out quite a bit. Trust me on that.”

“I wonder what that means! Is the girl taller than I? Does she have big yellow fangs jutting out of her mouth?” Roni let out a bit of a laugh before leaning towards Fload and smiling his Vigoreaux smile again.

“Or is she the Imperial Witch who I’ve heard so very much about? You know the rumors, I’m sure. Where she apparently torched a hundred of her own fellow soldiers within a few moments with real magic. Not just that Magitech you all have been using.”  

Keylla and Gemma moved as quietly as they could through the small tunnel and soon the sounds from the marketplace were faded completely. Keylla seemed to know his way around the tunnels well, and yet Gemma's heart thudded hard in her chest, making her feel queasy. Ever since she saw that specific uniform, she felt cold. She tried to remember anything at all as to why, but her mind drew up empty. 

The tunnel was dark and very quiet as they went along, and as they passed around a bend to the left, Gemma heard something nearby. She stopped, causing Keylla's hand to jerk as she tried stepping forwards.

"What's up?" She whispered back.

"Did you hear that?" she replied, listening hard. She felt Keylla crouch closer to her, listening. 

"...Witch...here..." 

"There!" Gemma hissed at Keylla before the treasure huntress hushed her.

"Yeah, I heard it that time," Keylla replied as if distracted. Gemma could see the darker shape of her head crane around. 

"We must be near one of the guards' dining rooms or something. Knowing Ron, he's probably got his guards having drinks with Fload's men." 

Keylla made to continue moving along the tunnel, tugging Gemma gently along with her, "Wouldn't King Roni want to watch all of Fload's group?"

"Well he is. Roni's guards all answer directly to him. He has them all watching each other too to hold them all accountable," Keylla led her around another bend in the tunnel to the right, taking light steps like a cat. "And sure, there can be problems every now and then. Whenever Roni gets new guardsmen in from Southwest Vigoreaux, he has to break them in and all that. But he hasn't had trouble with his guards lying or anything bad like that in about ten years when he first took the throne. Then again, back then, there were other problems going on anyways."

Before Keylla could continue explaining, they heard another noise, this time, louder. Glasses clanked against each other somewhere nearby, and a few men cheered a toast in unison. 

Keylla paused, "Ah! Here we go." From what Gemma could make out in the darkness, she began brushing her hands over the cold stone walls, feeling for something.

"Keylla? Where are we?" Gemma watched Keylla's general form while Gemma crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her side against the wall. 

"If I can find the switch hidden around here somewhere, then we can listen in on what's going on with the Imperials and Ron's guards," she whispered, still running her hands from short ceiling to the ground below, searching for the small switch about as small and thin as a candle wick. 

But Gemma's attentions went from watching Keylla to another sound off in the distance behind them. 

"Got it!" Keylla exclaimed in a whisper. Her ring finger pushed back the switch and allowed one of the stones in the wall to pull up about an inch on their side of the wall. More sounds rushed out of the crack to greet them. Gemma ignored the impulse to go investigate the odd sound in the distance and came to crouch next to Keylla. 

"'S good ale you've got here!" a deep voice sighed.

"Thank you kindly. Your Vectorian ale is impeccable, though!" another voice answered.

"So how're the girls around these parts? I hear the king keeps a whole coop full of the sweetest birds!"

"Oh, there are plenty of lovely girls around here. So many to choose from."

"The king danced with over thirty young ladies at the last ball. Such a lucky man," a new voice chuckled.

A chair scratched along the floor, as if being pushed back from a table, "I'll be back in a jiffy. Need to find a washroom." One of the men called out directions from his seat, to which the other man grunted in acknowledgment as his footsteps retreated from the room.

"At least the Imperials aren't acting like they usually do..." Keylla muttered.

"Gemma? We need to go ahead and find a hiding spot until the Imperials leave," Keylla said softly with her ear still at the opening in the wall. When she didn't hear Gemma's usual soft reply, she jerked her head away from the spot. 

"Gemma?" 

Gemma slipped away quietly down to the end of the dim passage while Keylla was still listening to the chatter coming from the hole in the wall. She heard odd sounds that were not Keylla's muttered comments to herself about the Imperials being arrogant normally, and decided to investigate, listening hard for more of those strange sounds. Her curiosity pushed her unease and better judgment to the wayside, and she figured that after a little while, she could go back to Keylla without any trouble. She felt her way along the stones, and out of nowhere her hand bumped into a cold, smooth, rounded object jutting out of the wall. 

"What's this?" Gemma whispered to herself, running her hand down along with it to where it disappeared into the stone floor. She realized that it must be one of those odd steel pipes she had seen around the castle when she and Locke were wandering around after her bath. 

She crept along slowly, and the further she went, she started hearing metal grinding on metal coming from the walls all around her. The noises got louder and louder and she was so absorbed in feeling her way along and listening that she bumped face first into another wall. 

"Ow..." she rubbed at her nose, which got the worst of it, "wait, this feels different." Gemma ran her hands over the new wall in front of her, and felt that it wasn't stone at all, but some sort of metal with what had to be a door handle. She tugged at it and the heavy thing opened slowly with a low squeak that she hoped nobody could hear over the mechanical grinding and groaning coming from the walls. Gemma peered in through the small opening, being careful to avoid somebody catching her, and saw metal bars, buckets full with foul smelling contents, and men. There was a Vigoreauxan guard seated at a desk across the large room by a set of high stairs writing in a thin book. 

"UGH. When's lunch?!" a bearded man in a ragged shirt and pants shouted at the guard. A few of the other men behind the iron bars going from the ceiling into the floor started agreeing and asking the question over and over with a swear or two thrown in. 

"And maybe we could use a bath, you bastard!" another man called, kicking his feet at the bars. This man had on clothes which reminded Gemma of what she had seen people in Gelid wearing: the dark blue shirt with a high collar, leather gloves with cuffs that went all the way to his elbows, coarse brown trousers, and high boots with fur lining the tops. In a pile in the front corner of his cell was a heavy ashy gray fur coat, matching cloak, and what looked like an enormous wolf's head. 

"Yeah! Lone Wolf has a point! I thought I was just smelling the shit pots, but the gross smell in my cell is me! Eugh!!" the scrub in the cell next to Lone Wolf added to the guard. He raised an arm and sniffed at his armpit with a scrunched up face, and plopped down onto the stone floor with some grumbles to himself. 

"Alright, alright!" The guard answered finally after closing his book and setting down his pen. He stood and walked through the walkway in between the two rows of prison cells along the walls, eyeing each of the inmates. 

"It is lunch time, so I'll go grab your food. And I'll ask the maids to set up some wash basins for you and have them haul off those chamber pots." With that, the guard walked away and up the staircase, and Gemma heard the sound of a door closing heavily. 

Gemma watched the prisoners for a few moments longer, debating with herself whether or not she should retrace her steps back to Keylla. There was a chance that she'd get lost though, what with the different passages leading off in different directions. She was starting to see why Keylla liked exploring so much because of all of the interesting things to be found.

"Maybe it'll be easier to go out the way the guard left. At least that way I can see where I'm going," she gulped hard, and opened the big door some more with a loud creak that echoed off the walls and made nearly all of the prisoners jump. She knew that Keylla wanted to keep her hidden from the Imperials, but that wouldn't do much good if she was hidden and lost and couldn't find her again.

As she slipped out, careful not to let her bag get caught, she was met with a chorus of "What the hell?!" from the prisoners.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Hey, help us get out of here, beautiful! C'mon!"

Some of the prisoners were reaching towards Gemma in between the bars of their cells, waving their arms around and yelling for her to help them out as she scurried past, hoping that none of them would grab hold of her ponytail. She hurried up the stairs and ran out of the door, and ended up in one of the corridors of the castle lined with the suits of armor and paintings hanging on the walls. 

Gemma jogged as quietly as she could down the corridor before anybody came along to see her. 

By a brightly painted scene of a famous opera out of Shenar, which was a gift for the late queen from what Keylla could remember, was a Vigoreauxan guardsman, seemingly on watch in the corridor, despite there not being any other guards present.

The guards usually operated on a sort of buddy-system unless one of the captains was accompanying the king or Chancellor or some other important person around.

But this guard was not a captain, or even one of the section leaders who managed guards in their assigned portion of the castle. He only had the standard crimson and green uniform without all of the golden shiny embellishments which showed rank and accomplishments. 

Keylla peered out from behind the heavy tapestry, careful not to move it too much so he wouldn't catch the eye of the guard who was loitering, not even bothering to look alert. He saw that the man was the same guard who stopped him and Gemma that morning, acting as if they were beggars from the streets.

"They really gotta keep on training this guy...looks like he's nearly leaning against that painting!" Keylla thought, shaking his head in a tutting manner.

Keylla slipped his head back behind the tapestry when he saw one of the Imperials turn down the corridor heading their way. Thankfully it wasn't Fload.

Instead of hearing the heavy footsteps pass on by after a few moments like Keylla expected, they stopped. Locke wondered if the Imperial was about to pick a fight. 

"Is she here?" came a whisper.

"Yes, I saw her this morning. A scrub with brown hair and bandanas tied around her head brought her. She had a scarf on her head to hide her hair, but it was definitely her," was the response.

Keylla leaned closer from her spot, straining to hear better.

"Any ideas about where the King's hiding her?" the Imperial spoke lower, most likely covering his mouth with a hand. 

"Probably in the engine rooms below; take the stairs down across from the dungeon. The King's really touchy about who goes down there, so there's probably a nook or cranny he stuffed the Witch in."

Keylla chanced leaning a bit closer to the edge of the tapestry to see the pair, and caught a shared nod before the Imperial strode away down the corridor, his steps echoing louder this time. The guard waited by the painting until the Imperial turned the corner before going off in the opposite direction. 

After slipping out from her hiding place, Keylla took off in the direction the Imperial went, trying to keep her steps as quiet as she could, "Shit! Gotta find Gemma, fast!"