Beginning of the End, Pt. 4 [Rio]

[Schultz Silverhult]

No sounds echoed through the halls of Las Noches as Schultz made his way down the corridors, heading for the exit that would take him out into the desert. About an hour ago, he had left a message for another of the Espada within his rooms, one Rio Demonliogalgo. The message had been straightforward and simple; one of the other Espada wished to speak with him out in the desert of Las Noches. A specific location had been given, with the only landmarks in the area being a lone tree growing out of the sand and an opening that led to the Forest of Menos. The time had been set for a mere hour in the future, which gave Schultz time there to arrive early and prepare himself. Rio, the Quinta Espada, would hopefully meet him there.

Schultz drummed his fingers across his crossed arms, impatience making it impossible to remain still. He felt… eager, and at the same time, he felt afraid. Of course, the scholar had felt afraid since he had started the momentum of the rebellion against Souken Kouhai; who wouldn’t be? The Septima Espada, one of the lowest-ranking of all of the Espada, had started a rush to draw the others into attacking the King of Las Noches. Though Kuroi Naito had taken control of the rebellion, and now headed it, Schultz was still the one to recruit and speak with each of the other Espada. If one chose to decline and fight against the rebellion, it would likely be up to Schultz to incapacitate or kill the offender, lest word get to Kouhai, had it not done so already. Battle was not his forte, but he would do as he had to in order to see this plan come to fruition.

Looking up at the unchanging moon, as if expecting it to move across the sky and mark the passing of time, Schultz found himself beginning to pace. His madness was growing with every step, and thoughts of blood and Hell began to echo from the corridors of his memories. Forcing the madness back, the scholar growled at his own mental disabilities, which in turn was followed by a reminder of his physical ones as a rattling cough burst free from his chest. Caught by surprise, Schultz doubled over, gasping for air that would not come. Flecks of blood stained his lips as he struggled between coughs for a breath, and for a moment he thought death had come again for him.

But it had not. Soon the scholar was able to straighten, drawing a slow, steady breath as he tried to regain his composure. His physical limitations were many, and his mental state was fragile, but Schultz lived on the edge of a knife, found ecstasy and thrill on that deadly balance. And so he lived on, despite the threats on both the physical and mental front. For only on that thin rope of balance between death by two extremes, the scholar felt himself getting closer to the Truth he sought. Madness and pain were a small price to pay for the knowledge he sought… or perhaps that knowledge, the quest for it, was madness in itself. Who could say?

Caught in the throes of his madness and the thoughts that came with it, Schultz waited for his companion to arrive.

[Rio Demonliogalgo]

Schultz had left the note on the outside of Rio’s door for him to read whenever he got the chance. The note was indeed found, and scanned over a few times by the espada before he decided to meet Schultz at the appointed time and place. Rio had only been given an hour to get ready and meet Schultz in the middle of the white desert of Heuco Mundo. Fortunately, this particular arrancar didn’t require much time to prepare. Schultz would see Rio’s silhouette trudging out over the dunes. Closer and closer the espada came, until finally Schultz was able to see Rio’s towering body. The black-haired espada spoke while gripping the note that had been left for him. “Septima... What is this about?” said the arrancar, tossing the crumpled note at Schultz’s face, “Next time you drag me out to the middle of nowhere, make damn sure you tell me what it’s about first!”

It would appear to Schultz, that Rio was challenging him, perhaps even daring him to fight. If the Septima knew the Quinta, he’d know that Rio was always looking for something to fight or kill. That was simply the way that Rio was, and this personality trait was quite apparent in the espada before him. Schultz’s note had said nothing about the reason for the meeting, probably because of how sensitive the subject matter was. Surely Schultz could not risk displaying his plans for anyone who happened to find that note on Rio’s door. Surely the risks involved were too great to even hint at, however, Rio had no idea what the Septima was planning.

The Quinta was not someone who took kindly to waiting. If the Septima wanted to keep his attention for long, it was in his best interest to start talking and skip right to the point. Rio was a fighter. He didn’t bother himself with petty reasons or details. As long as Rio could enact his own form of justice and weed out the weaklings from his presence, he would be happy. Schultz would need to approach the other espada carefully, because in Rio’s eyes, Schultz was pathetic and weak. Rio certainly didn’t consider his method of fighting honorable or effective. He was just the Septima, a useless scholar that dabbled in pointless information.

[Schultz Silverhult]

“Subtle as ever, I see.”

Schultz let the crumpled note bounce off of his face, skewing his glasses slightly, but the Septima quickly adjusted them back into place with a slight sigh of impatience. Rio was the muscles in Las Noches, said to be a powerful physical fighter with a truly impressive Resurrection. Of course this was all hearsay; Schultz had not fought the man himself and had no intention of doing so if not necessary, simply because it was a bother to battle each individual Espada. Not only that, but the scholar also knew losing odds when he saw them; disturbing such a powerful individual with his own diminutive strength was a sure-fire way of getting himself killed. Though Rio did not qualify as one of the high-tier Espada, his rank just one away from the numerical qualification, Schultz had enough wariness not to bother him anyway. As he had learned, numbers were not everything in Las Noches.

Even so, it was obvious that the Quinta was itching for battle, but once more Schultz had known of the man’s tendency towards aggression. The scholar had done his homework before approaching several of the Espada, and though many of them were wrapped in numerous mysteries, some of them were as transparent as the glasses which Schultz wore over his eyes. Of course, as with the lenses, the truth could be distorted somewhat as well; though Rio tended to be very battle-ready, it was unlikely that he was stupid as well. No Arrancar would survive on just strength alone, but would also have a mind behind the wall of physical might in order to use that strength effectively. Any mindless Arrancar would simply be consumed by its superiors, as a part of the necessities of life.

I can’t afford to underestimate any of these… I am walking a thin line between life and death in more ways than one with each of these powerful Arrancar I meet…

Schultz assumed a comfortable, yet wary stance, his legs spread just wide enough and bent very slightly at the knees, hardly noticeable, yet enough for him to spring backwards in a Sonido should he feel threatened. His arms were crossed behind his back in a neutral, non-aggressive stance, and his face was impassive, though the slightest crook to his lips would be visible on close examination. Was he enjoying this? Did he see it as a game? The scholar did find amusement in this, but not because of his companion. Rather he found amusement in his weakness, and yet despite his low rank both in power and in number, he had already allied one of the stronger Espada to his cause, and potentially had drawn others into his web as well. Power wasn’t everything, but that didn’t mean that power couldn’t be useful to his cause, and Rio was pure physical power in a bottle.

“My apologies for this impolite choice of meeting, Quinta.” Schultz tilted his head forward slightly, the barest hint of formal apology in his actions. “Unfortunately, we have an extremely delicate topic to discuss, and the impact of it could be devastating if these words fell onto the wrong ears. Understand my wariness, and know that I do not do this out of disrespect; instead, my coming to you is to extend an invitation in just the opposite.”

Sugar-coated words, to be sure, but Schultz wasn’t intending to butter up the Quinta, merely open up with simple formality, draw Rio’s curiosity and attention to the matter at hand. The less chance he had to focus on his aggression, the less potential he had for exploding at a bad moment. Schultz did not have any inclination to draw the wrath of the other Espada. “I have come to you to discuss an event that is slowly building up beneath the surface, tension that has been building among many of the Espada, no fewer than five—” The number was slightly exaggerated, but it was meant to make Rio question which of his peers were a part of what was coming. In truth, five was the number of Espada approached so far, six if one included Myza, who would contact Adalo in her own time. “—and as a result, that pressure has been boiling just beneath the surface. What I speak of, Quinta, is a rebellion. And what a rebellion it will be, as it will go against at least one of the strongest, if not the strongest, figures within Las Noches currently. A rebellion against one man who has unrightfully been in place far too long. I speak of Sonken Kouhai.”

“We will rise up against the King of Las Noches himself.”