"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Ylvetta looked around, unsure what to do. She didn't really want to go with them, but she was dead. Not a whole lot else to do. Sighing, she turned and headed after them.
Bernard didn't mind party members. He had plenty in the past, fighting in World War III--heck, he was the party member in World War III, not the main guy. Granted, he wasn't the main guy here either. Drunkard ex-scientist doesn't make good hero material, but all of the hero material was eaten in the desert, so the side kicks'll have to do.
"You have something to hide, Iren?" he asked, staring at the fairy who was hiding behind trees after coming to the fairy village.
"It's Iris," she said. She would've sounded annoyed, if she wasn't too busy being anxious. "And I may have sort of fled this place, so--"
"No stories--I could die tomorrow and it wouldn't matter to either of us," Bernard shoved his hands in his pockets, whistling. He looked up at the wooden terrain, drawing away leaves to spot a building carved out of an old mangrove in the distance. "There we go."
Ylenna phased through him, tilting their head at the building. "What's that?"
Bernard pulled out his guns, counting his bullets. "You'll see soon enough."
They marched their way to the mangrove, Iris in hiding, Ilvenna casually strolling by, spooking several fairies. Bernard, he simply walked into the rustic material, the fire magic used for lights throwing shade over his eyes, and he said: "Kirkegaard!"
The room seemed small, but on the ceiling a rectangular door dropped open, a flight of stars falling with it. There was the faint voice screaming "coming, coming" from the heavens, a loud thud, and the next thing he knew a human man was rolling down the flight of stairs, grunting "ow, ouch, aah" on every stair that landed on his head before he fell face first onto the floor.
The chestnut haired, goggled white man (he looked more like a boy, really, though Bernie knew he was already 28) found his gripping on the floor, standing up. He swung to face Bernie, a grin as wide as the oceans on his face. "Dr. Duckie!" he yelped in glee, jumping to hug Bernard.
Bernard took the broken glass bottle in his hands, harmlessly swinging it while backing away. "Hey. It's Mr. Mallard to you, kid," he said. "I ain't a doctor anymore."
"Aw, that's ridiculous--you can't just disown years of study," Bernie chuckled, a hand on his hip as he put down his goggles. He noticed Ylarna, and clapped, approaching the ghost. "Guests! So many guests!" He looked over the door, noticing Iris. "Ooh, Iris? You too, huh? Come on in!"
The fairy stuttered, "Uh..."
"Are you going on an adventure?" Kirkegaard snapped back to Bernie, again. "Ooh, can I go on an adventure?"
"Ah ha ha ha," Bernie laughed, before straightening his voice and saying, "No."
"Aw, why?" Kirkegaard made his cute face. "It could be the old times. You know, with Professor--"
"Yeah, don't you have a husband now, Kirk?" Bern asked, cutting the boy short.
"Well, you have a wife--"
"And kids, too?"
"I mean, I'll be back--"
"And a job?"
Kirky stared down at himself, and frowned. "You're no fun, Bernie."
"I hate to admit it," a voice said, in the not-so-distant-distance, "But for once I agree with the vulture."
Bernie turned to the table behind the flight of stairs, a pair of red wings attached to an aloof man with matching carrot hair standing in front of blueprints. "Why," Bernie started, laughing mockingly, "Isn't it the fa--"
"Don't push it, carrion." Caljoun raised a hand, and immediately Bernie backed away, already feeling the heat of a wandering flame shoot past his nose. The fairy glared at Bernard, before turning back to his blueprints. "Sweetie, the buzzard has a weapon to enchant. Let's get on with it."
"Right on, honeysickle," Kirkegaard said, putting his goggles back on. "What'll it be this time, doctor?"
Bernard pulled out his gun, a revolver, and the bullets he had left. He looked at the ghost behind him, and the fairy in hiding. "I think," he said, "We'll all need a little bit of something."
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."
A leaf tickled Iris' nose and she felt an irresistible urge to sneeze. By Sephiroth's Comet, why did she have to sneeze now? She struggled to hold the sneeze back but--ACHOO--came out before she could even realize it.
Caljoun pulled Iris out from behind the tree so fast no one could see him run across the ground. "Iris! You shouldn't have left! Where did you go? We had to send a search party."
"To be DONE with Sephiroth." Iris yanked her arm out. "Nobody here is paying attention."
"This is like a suicide mission." Caljoun eyed the others. "Is that what you're trying to do? Don't. Just survive now."
"It can't be like that." Bernie argued. "It's not all about you and your village, it's about everybody."
Iris nodded. "So I'm going with them, Caljoun, whether you like it or not. Tell the others that."
Caljoun folded his arms. "We need every single fairy to keep it going."
"And then if Sephiroth does something apocalyptic again, we're all dead as a doornail." Iris picked up a ball of earth, and dropped it to the ground. Dirt clods flew into the air, making everybody cough. "This cannot happen again."
"Fine then. But aren't you too young?"
"No." The fairy was famous for her stubbornness and already she could see Caljoun give in.
"Fine. But you'll have to talk to the searchers." He turned back to the blueprints. "They'll be back in a few minutes."
Kirk looked at the hidden fairy, smiling. "Wouldn't she need a weapon, too, Doc?"
Bernie shrugged. "Sure. Why not." He looked at Yrvenna, arching a brow. "Hey, Kirk, ghosts don't get hurt, do they?"
Kirkegaard took Bernie's guns, inspecting them before throwing them Caljoun's way. Caljoun caught them in one swipe, rolling them in his fingers before throwing them on his work desk. "Well, shucks, Doc," Kirk said, "I'm not sure I've ever seen a ghost before. I wouldn't know!"
"Buzzard," Caljoun yelled, "What do you want?"
"A little bit of magic, a little bit of old-fashioned mankind ingenuity," Bernie returned.
Caljoun groaned. "So it explodes inside skin and turns them into ash?"
"Yeah, that'll work," he pulled out some gold from his satchel, counting the coins. He grimaced. He shouldn't have given Doug so much--he'll have to kill some bandits soon. "I'll also need some other bullets, just regular if you don't mind."
"And the ghost?" Kirk asked.
He looked at Yarvinksi, arching a brow. "Ask them," he aid, "I can't decide for everybody."
Kirk nodded, almost as if accepting a job, before turning to the two others. "Well? You want anything, loves?"
"For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief."
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