Eternal XIX

Under the uneven flicker of torchlight, deep-blue ice formed an arched chamber. The cold turned the moisture into a thin mist, as though it had frozen the sound as well.

"Brando." Veronica's voice carried a buzzing echo. The lady turned around, the flickering firelight reflected across her emerald eyes. "How long do you think Anlek will need to reach the center of this temple?"

"Half a day, or forever. It depends on how well Anlek understands this place." In response to Veronica's question, Brando understood perfectly. He looked into the depths of the ice cavern by the torchlight, his gaze somber. "Yet Anlek's cunning is attested by the poets' songs. He ruled the highlands with an iron fist. Would someone like that seek his own death?"

"His fanatical faith in Unity of All Things might drive him to it, but that doesn't necessarily make him foolish. I've dealt with those people before. I know them very well." Veronica looked at him as she replied.

"So we have half a day?"

"That's the worst-case estimate. Perhaps more, but we shouldn't count on it." Brando answered.

"Can we get there before then?"

Brando did not answer. He turned around and fixed his gaze on someone—or rather, some dragon. The focus of his attention, Sta, wore an extremely displeased expression. The little fatty wiped the honey from the corner of his mouth, frowned, and muttered, "Don't look at me like that. This route is definitely faster. I swear—"

"What will you swear by?" Brando asked carefully. "For example, will you swear by the third golden scale beneath Bahamut's neck?"

"Ah, you bastard!" Sta shouted. During the Second War against Twilight, Jörmungandr, the Serpent of the Courtyard, had bitten Bahamut's neck, causing the third golden scale to fall off and vanish. Just as a