《To Follow Saudade》


 Gratia Mindaro Wants to Look (Chapter 1.1)

    If she had to pick one thing she could take away from it all, it would probably be the wind.


    ¡°If I could give the gods above a piece of my fucking mind right now¡­¡±


    Early winter, or perhaps late autumn, was not a particularly pleasant experience on a mountainside. As the air cooled rapidly, high above the mainlands and well away from anything to retain even a little heat, the same winds that normally would be little more than a mild inconvenience now felt liable to stab into her as well as force her off the side. What was even worse were the completely erratic nature of the gusts, because instead of a constant stream of wind that one could adjust to, they instead came in bursts of force that were next to impossible to predict.


    Because nothing could ever be fucking peachy.


    Grinding her teeth, she nonetheless forged onwards, shielding the sharp features of her face with one heavily coated arm whilst the other kept steady on the sloped wall of soil, rock, and moss at her side. Not that she was retarded enough to be counting any blessings at this point, but she was definitely thankful for the fact that there seemed to be, at the very least, something that resembled a trail to follow.


    That was a good sign. Trails meant people, and people meant information at the very worst. Although she¡¯d be royally peeved if said information was ¡°no, I have no idea who that could be, I¡¯m just an old mountain hermit geezer¡±, it¡¯d at least mean she could probably stop scouring every peak in this range if the search was in vain after all.


    But it wouldn¡¯t be.


    It couldn¡¯t be.


    If it were¡­


    No.


    ¡°Bullshit it will,¡± she growled, taking a moment to gulp in a big mouthful of the thin mountain air so her sore legs would get something resembling a reprieve. ¡°It¡¯s always the last thing you think of. I¡¯ve got to be right.¡±


    This is what the girl told herself, soldiering on with redoubled vigour and purpose. Rounding a bend, she was pleased to find her situation improving twofold¡ª not only was the wind now blowing into her side, but the vegetation she had passed through on her way up had returned up ahead.


    Amendment. Things could be peachy if it ended up being to spite her.


    Acceptable, as long as she could get a piece of it. A spiteful payoff was still a payoff, and you¡¯d have to be dense as a stone to turn the payoff down.


    Gift horses and mouths, you daft retards. Besides, anyone trying to spite me is going to get ten times the spite back. That¡¯s how she¡¯d have done it, and that¡¯s how I do it. No holds barred, no quarter given.


    She must not be angered easily. Frank, yes. No-nonsense, absolutely. Uncompromising, without question.


    But not easy to anger. To release her wrath was to be an event for the legends themselves. That was the ideal she was to hold herself to.


    ¡°Tch. Not that easy to get rid of, fuckstick.¡± she ground out to the void below, as it disappeared beneath the foliage without response. Satisfied in her small victory against nature, she showed teeth in a valiant attempt at a calm smile.


    ¡°Eat shit, mountain.¡±


    Well, everyone starts somewhere.


    Brushing what felt like a leaf out of her long, dark hair, she took a deep breath again, less laboriously this time, and idly fished a half-eaten piece of jerky from the pouch at her hip with the intent to finish. The smoked and cured beef tasted about as one would expect, but food was food, food was fuel, and fuel was energy. She had surmised herself to be roughly two-thirds of the way up to the summit. Maybe three-quarters, if she was lucky.


    ...And ever since I fucking started this journey, my luck¡¯s been up shit creek. Two-thirds it is.


    At least I¡¯m starting to think like her now, too. Silver-goddamn-linings, right, Elder Galla? You¡¯d better be proud, because I am.


    Well, perhaps this was being a fair bit too on the nose with it, but according to the words of Galla the Crone, eldest surviving member of the Mindaro clan and probably the whole human race, a particular fondness for vulgarity was apparently going in the right direction, so¡­


    So to hell with prim-and-proper, she resolved as she began her long trudge upwards once more. If it was useless to that woman, it¡¯s certainly fucking useless to me.


    An arrangement that in all seriousness was perfectly fine by her. Honestly, it felt a little liberating to drop out of a constant air of politeness she had to maintain within the cloistered clan halls, even if she wasn¡¯t sure how removing that particular lid was supposed to mesh with the stoicism she had also resolved to refine.


    But she would figure it out.


    If her namesake could do it, then she could make it work for her too. It had to be possible, else Elder Galla would have never spoken of it. She was not the type to joke about her dear sister, not one bit.


    That was why she was out here in the first place. It was thanks to that same faith in the Crone that she had made this journey, searching the landscape high and low, on a trail that had all but gone cold for the sake of a trail that had certainly gone cold.


    It was a long shot, so she had avoided it. It was strange, so she had disregarded it. It was pretty much unreasonable, so she had pretty much treated it as a last resort.


    And yet, here she was, exhausting that last resort after all else failed. When all else failed, she had only Galla the Crone, matriarch of the Mindaro clan and relic of an age long past, to look to for guidance.


    She had run through every record, every informant, and every known Mindaro territory, current or former, but had found nothing. The lands beyond had similarly yielded nothing, or even worse, a fucking false lead that only terminated into nothing. Even worse than nothing, because she would actually begin to think she was getting somewhere.


    But for a whole year, she never did.


    One by one, every option on her quest had resulted in failure and left her at a loss, until she sought audience with the venerable elder. Driven nearly mad with frustration, she begged, pleaded, and swore she would heed any advice the ancient woman had to offer.


    She could not, in the end, do it on her own.


    This elicited a small smile from the Elder¡ª


    And, in words spoken as wispily as the winds of the mountain, her advice was thus.


    ¡°Seek out Schwarz.¡±


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    And so her quest took her to what must have been the rim of the earth itself. Far away from anything resembling civilization, deep within the crags that marked the border between the known civilized world and the wastes beyond.


    Even the small fishing hamlet she had sailed into was long abandoned by most of the humble folk that once lived there, with only three families stubbornly remaining in the face of their community¡¯s dispersal. And it was good on them, she thought, to keep their family¡¯s ties to the land held so close, but it was also saddening in a way.


    Their excitement at seeing a new and friendly face was something impossible to fake, and although she was willing and eager to repay their hospitality by definitively dealing with a small bandit problem of theirs, she knew full well that it wasn¡¯t going to last. More men would come out here to escape justice, just as they had, and would be more than willing to harass and plunder a small, nearly defenseless town of two dozen.


    The least Schwarz could fucking do was venture down from this shitty summit and help. It was a miracle that the library¡¯s records had anything mentioning him at all¡ª a mysterious young man with raven hair that featured a notably obstinate cowlick, perfectly in line with what Galla had told her to expect of someone bearing the name¡ª had passed through twenty years ago.


    Twenty fucking years ago. Not once had he been seen since.


    So she was obviously on her way to meet some kind of crotchety hermetic middle-aged man who didn¡¯t care for human contact at all. That boded fantastically for her, especially since she had come all this way not only to meet him, but to ask something of him. It was about as reasonable a task as not only convincing a fucking turtle out of its shell, but also teaching it to sprint.


    Real fucking peachy.


    That left her with an obvious conclusion straightaway¡ª take that very same sharpness of tongue and acidity of diction that she¡¯d found so liberating and, once again, put a lid on it. She certainly wasn¡¯t very happy with the concept, especially after all the reasons she¡¯d gained on this hike to truly let loose on the guy, but there was not a single Mindaro alive who didn¡¯t understand the concepts of ¡°time and place¡±.


    She was no exception. After all, with her namesake¡¯s legendary pragmatism and sangfroid, it would be hard to imagine that she would disregard those virtues when faced with the task of delicately handling the matter of her last chance at something.


    Like an ascetic informant who could barely deal with those who earnestly and happily showed you hospitality, for example. Luckily for him, she needed something, and would need to be polite instead of blunt as she really, really wanted to. It would be so easy for her to vent every grievance she had accrued over the two four hour hikes from the town and up the mountain she was going through to get to the guy, really.


    But her resolve was not so easily wavered as to yield to her own desires before the cause. She was firm and set as the steel of the blade at her hip, unbending and honed to a razor¡¯s edge. Willing and able to cut through whatever trials stood in her way.


    Which was a fat lot of good for her, when the resolutions consumed her thoughts so much that she utterly failed to notice the significance of the twig she snapped underfoot until an unexpected force pulled her boot to the sky. With all the grace of a drunken gazelle, the girl was sent crashing onto the back of her head and a burst of stars exploded into her vision. Growling and clutching her head in pain, she opened one onyx eye to identify the culprit¡­


    ¡°You misanthropic son of a bitch!¡±


    A goddamn snare trap, after all that shit she had gone through?! You had to be fucking kidding! Forget asceticism, this asshole was outright diabolical when it came to his no-contact policy! If he was so dead set on not seeing another person, just leave the path full of those branches she¡¯d seen shoved off quite deliberately to the side earlier on!


    ¡°Or better fucking yet--¡± she bit out while drawing the aforementioned sabre, ¡°Why don¡¯t you just jump off the fucking side of the whole fucking MOUNTAIN?!¡±


    With an acceptable target for vented rage being her primary antagonist, the young woman¡¯s arm blurred in a savage cut that would possibly have torn through the cord through force alone, even if her blade were dull and rusty. Thankfully though, it wasn¡¯t, and she was quickly back on her feet even as she tried to earnestly chop through the whole treeline with her glare alone.


    Deep breaths, now. Let it simmer down before you find Schwarz. Sour things with him and you fuck it all up for good¡­ Just hold it in for a little longer. You¡¯ve vented, get it out of the system now, before you have to put on your diplomacy face. You have to be in control at all times, or else he won¡¯t listen.


    ¡°Uh¡ª¡±


    She whirled, instinctively swinging the sabre up between herself and the direction of the voice that belonged to whomever it was that had very much snuck up on her. Just one goddamn lapse after another, wasn¡¯t it? What the shit next, a Demon was going to drop in?! How about a dragon?! Did her ears just stop working all of a sudden?!


    ¡°Tell me why the fuck you¡¯ve been tailing me. Now.¡± she ordered, not quite managing to remove all of the raw, unfiltered venom from what was supposed to be a frigid and intense voice. Like the winds of the far north, the tales went...


    ¡°Well, for one, I live here, so I kind of haven¡¯t¡ª And to answer your other question, because that would hurt like all hell?¡±


    Her eyes narrowed, not very keen on his answer but certainly keen on glaring through him.


    ¡° ¡®Kind of haven¡¯t¡¯? And the fuck¡¯s with the answering a question with another question routine¡ª¡±


    Then she registered who exactly she was looking at. Her eyes widened fractionally and she stopped her sentence cold, realizing just who it was that she had turned her sword upon.


    A young man rather than a geezer, yes, about her age with a slimmish build and utterly nonplussed expression¡ª


    But one who also had raven hair, of middling-nearing-long length.


    Gray, granite-colored eyes, one nearly obscured by his bangs.


    A vaguely golden hint to his skin.


    And most importantly and tellingly of all¡ª


    That goddamn cowlick that looked like it had a mind of its¡¯ own.


    There was only one person that this kid, who held a pair of carcasses from some form of hare in one hand and clad in the most basic and spartan of rags could be, despite her expectations. The key points to look out for matched both the descriptions of Elder Galla''s words and the fishing hamlet¡¯s records. There was only one name this boy, whose neck was currently not even five inches away from the razor sharp edge of her sabre, could possibly answer to.


    ¡°...Schwarz.¡±


    It wasn''t a question.


    I¡¯ve gone and fucked that one up, then.


    ¡°Er¡­ Y-yeah.¡± came his shaky reply.


    Peachy.

 Gratia Mindaro Wants to Look (Chapter 1.2)

    ¡°You know.¡±


    She picked at her bowl of rice with a pensive expression. As far as meals went, it was undoubtedly and unashamedly bland¡­ but that was all it was.


    Bland, simple, and wholly without surprise.


    In itself, this was a surprising thing.


    ¡°For the kind of person that lays traps on the road to their home, you¡¯re being awfully accommodating.¡±


    Across the firepit, her measured onyx eyes were met with plainly confused grey ones, as her host regarded her with an earnestly nonplussed frown.


    ¡°I already apologized for that¡­ How do you figure?¡±


    ¡°I nearly cut your head off.¡± she stated bluntly, inclining her own in a small bow. ¡°Again, by all rights I do not deserve the hospitality.¡±


    With a huff, he handed over a small, steaming cup of faintly green liquid, took a sip of his own, and folded his arms.


    ¡°And again, you apologized for that already as well. Rough days happen on this mountain. I get it.¡± he replied, with just as much blunt diplomacy as her. ¡°Moreover, you¡¯re a guest who came to seek me out, right? I¡¯d be a pretty terrible host to not welcome you and hear you out, at the very least.¡±


    It certainly was a salient argument, but the problem came from the fact that this boy had turned each and every single expectation of hers on its fucking ear. Instead of some misanthropic and weathered middle-aged shithead, he was young, not an eyesore, polite, and tolerant all the way up to laughing off her threatening him at swordpoint. Apparently, as he wanly explained once she put the sword away, he¡¯d been having good luck with mountain hares along the trail, and was also the only person who had used it in years.


    So, just as fate would have it, not a week after setting it up there he had caught her ankle.


    What in the goddamn shit was going on around here? The moment she¡¯d stepped onto this edge of the continent, everything had gone sideways on her! Did her ancestor have to deal with this bullshit from his, too?


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± came her correction. ¡°I was actually expecting to meet your father, Yuri Sch--¡±


    He snorted his mouthful of rice, before offering her a correction.


    ¡°It was Uriel.¡±


    ¡°Ah. The town records must have misheard it.¡±


    ¡°Er, well, you know, Mom did call him ¡®Uri¡¯ a lot¡­¡±


    ¡°Huhm. Anyways.¡±


    Hell, he even liked talking. Every other sentence nearly convinced her to veer off course, but if she was a Mindaro then she knew how to have some fucking discipline and re-rail things before they got out of hand. It was in the family character to get to the point.


    ¡°I was expecting to find Uriel Schwarz, but it seems that possibility¡­¡±


    She searched for a delicate way to put it.


    ¡°Died a year ago, yeah.¡± he finished plainly, a brief flash of a frown crossing his features.


    ¡°I apologize for my insensitivity, Schwarz. Again, you have my condolences.¡±


    It felt like a whole damn lot of apologizing lately, didn¡¯t it? A fuckton of apologies and bowed heads, like she had never left the prim and proper circles of her family.


    ¡°Again, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve had a whole year to come to terms with it.¡± he replied genially, offering her a friendly smile.


    Alright, enough with the ¡°disarming¡± bullshit. We both know I¡¯m not here just to chat.


    She took a large gulp of her drink, having deemed it safe with how readily and casually he himself was sipping from the same batch¡ª


    And nearly choked, immediately regretting and re-evaluating her deduction. Forcing it down, she immediately chased the concoction with two heaping clumps of the blessedly plain and acceptable white rice, before affixing the cup with an angry glare.


    ¡°What the fuck is that? It¡¯s so bitter I¡¯d have thought it was grass.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you don¡¯t like tea?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine with tea, but it has to be tea, not some random leaves you pick up off the fucking ground!¡±


    ¡°Hey, it istea!It¡¯s green tea! Matcha! This is the only kind that grows up here!¡±


    ¡°Then get some fucking honey for it!¡±


    ¡°Have you seen a single bee on this mountain?¡±


    The family character had been forgotten. She had veered off course and been disarmed in the span of thirty seconds. Somewhere, that noble and righteous woman was spinning, even if she had no proper grave to do it in¡­


    Fine. She would accept the challenge and regain control.


    With a white-knuckled grip on the mug, she kicked it back, downing the rest of the contents in one go¡ª


    Saw green for a moment¡ª


    Swallowed¡ª


    And levelled a steely, if a little shaken gaze upon the once more perplexed boy. It was plainly obvious that he hadn¡¯t expected her to drink the rest of the sad excuse for a beverage in such a quick reversal¡ªand from that place of ¡°wait, what?¡± he was wide open to her counterattack.


    The opening moves had gone to Schwarz and his banter, but now she was in command of every piece on the board. No more distractions.


    Just the way she liked it.


    ¡°So then, Lucian.¡± she began, in the very same tone that had always gotten her to shut up to listen to somebody. ¡°You are the only remaining member of the family, I understand?¡±


    He nodded with a frown.


    ¡°I am. Mom died when I was a boy, and Dad last year. Never had any siblings.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t know of any extended family?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°None.¡±


    ¡°I see. So it really is just you¡­¡±


    That made things difficult. In fact, it was more than likely a worst-case scenario¡ª it could only further degrade if the young man she was speaking to was also six feet under. Therefore, the path ahead was obvious.


    No matter how much of a stretch it could have been, she would have to foist everything she had intended for Uriel onto Lucian and hope he would know something.


    ¡°No helping it then. It¡¯s time I introduced myself.¡±


    He opened his mouth as if to say something, but apparently thought better of it and nodded, waving her on with his chopsticks.


    ¡°My name is Gratia Mindaro.¡±


    Now it was his turn to choke.


    ¡°I take it you¡¯re familiar with my namesake, then?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a bit!¡± he sputtered once all of the grain had been cleared from his windpipe. ¡°Made me think I was talking to a ghost for half a second, yeesh¡­¡±


    Gratia¡¯s frown was rather flat as she watched him wipe his mouth, before continuing with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°While she was a legendary hero, one even a mountain boy like you has heard of, the dead stay dead, Schwarz. That¡¯s what I''ve dragged myself all the way to the edge of the damned world for. Because me and the dead specifically have business with you and yours. Do you know why?¡±


    ¡°Our ancestors, right?¡±


    Well, you couldn''t help a mountain bumpkin having a shitty education.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°It''s because apparently, despite never showing up as more than a footnote in legend, your ancestor Lucas was a close comrade of--¡±


    She blinked.


    ¡°Wait, since when the hell do you know something about this that I didn''t?!¡±


    Her demands, like so many of them that day, were met with an easygoing chuckle. Hey, fuckface, this wasn''t a laughing matter to her! She''d been making this her life¡¯s mission for over a year, and this random yokel just already knew everything?


    Irritating. So enormously irritating. A whole year of hard work was good for less than twenty minutes of this.


    ¡°Well, uh, hey,¡± he said, raising his hands diplomatically as her jaw tightened in annoyance. ¡°In fairness, our family does have direct access to Lucas¡¯s memoirs. I take it Gratia¡­ the First left nothing of the sort behind?¡±


    He looked very uncomfortable making that amendment. Not surprising, since most people didn''t know what to think of someone from the Mindaro clan having the chutzpah to declare themselves to be The Legendary Heroine¡¯s Second Coming.


    But no matter. That chutzpah was hard at work all the damn time, and on full display as Gratia the Second switched gears.


    ¡°You do? Let me see them.¡±


    ¡°H-Hey, I asked first--¡± He responded, almost uneased by the transition.


    ¡°I asked more important.¡± She shot back bluntly. Her head swiveling and eyes flirting around the very spartan room, she asked another More Important Question Than His. ¡°Where do you keep them, Schwarz?¡±


    ¡°I''ll tell you things when you finish telling me things.¡±


    More adamant this time. Perhaps roughing it out on your own for a year gave you a spine after all. Admirable.


    But also obstructive. A mistake.


    Gratia fixed him with a look.


    ¡°Don''t be that guy. I swear on my family name I''m only looking to read through them.¡±


    And she had to credit him. He looked right back, plain and steadfast.


    ¡°I''ll be that guy all day. I''ve already invited you into my home-- after you tried to lop my head off. If you were so dead-set on owning that, then you can sit there and finish telling me what''s going on.¡±


    She glared at him, into him and through the wall behind him. If that was the cheeky bastard¡¯s game, then he could take back the fucking act of being Mister Hospitality¡­


    He held his gaze, eyes as grey and unwavering as the mountain upon which they sat.


    ...God dammit, fine.


    And like the mountain, she would get nowhere by trying to budge him.


    ¡°...Yes.¡± She began again after a deep breath. ¡°You are correct. Gratia Mindaro only left behind her legacy when she went missing. No records of her life of her own creation exist in the Mindaro vaults. Only tales from those around her that mention her survive.¡±


    Such as Elder Galla, the younger sister of her namesake. And as the closest thing to a primary source one could get¡­


    Well it wasn''t easy to get an audience with the Crone and Matriarch of the family, but it would have been way smarter to do it first rather than last.


    Stupid.


    ¡°After having had her name bestowed upon me, I decided that it should not be left at a simple disappearance. Forgive my language, but that''s a real shitty way for her legend to end.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re way past the point of worrying about your language.¡± Lucian pointed out, but she ignored it and continued on. He wanted words, he would get words.


    ¡°So for the past year and a half, once I became of age to truly act for myself, I have been scouring all of civilization for some trace of her resting place, but have come up short. Over and over again, I have found nothing. Neither within the archives of my home, nor those abroad, has anything of significance come to light. I have read every saga from cover to cover, traversed so many locales¡­ nothing.¡±


    With every fiber of her being, she had given it all and gotten nothing in return. To have no result to your name after every effort was expended was, simple put, fucking pathetic. It was enough to make any person wonder if they should just give up. Why bother, if it all amounted to zero?


    ¡°You are my last hope, Lucian.¡±


    Because it only amounts to zero if you fucking stop at zero. That is how her predecessor must have seen it. It may have been a pain in the ass to grovel to a stranger...


    ¡°I didn¡¯t believe I would ever be able to track you down, but I did, and I cannot stop here. If you have the firsthand documents of Lucas as you claim, I will meet any price or condition you set.¡±


    But it was necessary. And if it was necessary to give the First a real, proper burial at a real, proper final resting place, then the Second would do what was necessary by bearing that pain.


    ¡°Favor with one of the oldest and most powerful families in the world. Access to the riches of everything my inheritance will bring. A home in the heart of the most beautiful countryside in the world, far away from no man¡¯s land and with all the food, wine, and comfort you desire. We would be heroes, Schwarz.¡±


    She didn¡¯t have the access or authority to any of this just yet, but returning with the remains of her predecessor would easily change that. Not something he needed to know, because she would find them and earn the right to reward him.


    She¡¯d bet her life upon it.


    ¡°Heroes¡­¡±


    There was an odd, unplaceable color to his voice as he repeated the word, and she saw his eyes shift from looking at her to looking through her, and off to the horizon. Something that seemed¡­ sad.


    Another starry-eyed dreamer, huh?


    ¡°That¡¯s right. Heroes, with grand tales of our own. If that¡¯s your ambition, I¡¯ll gladly repay you by doing whatever I can to get you there, if you¡¯ll offer me the kindness now. And besides,¡±


    She smirked.


    ¡°You¡¯ll sure as hell be a hero to me.¡±


    He froze immediately, and she knew that she¡¯d definitely gotten his attention. A sneaky move, but...


    ¡°Well?¡± she asked, folding her arms and sensing her victory. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    He paused for a long moment, frowning in contemplation as he studied the floor with folded arms of his own.


    Come on, you simple mountain boy, haven¡¯t you ever wanted something more?


    Dare to fucking dream!


    Even if he was living this monkish life of asceticism out of some pursuit of spiritual enlightenment, she knew that the offer had to be tempting him. It wasn¡¯t as though anyone could honestly say ¡°no¡± to it without a second thought¡­


    Right?


    ¡°Even if you will not hand them to me,¡± she quickly amended, unclasping her sheathed sabre from her hip, ¡°I beg you to please allow me to read them, at the very least. You have my word that they won¡¯t be tampered with.¡±


    ¡°Gh¡ª!¡±


    He recoiled in shock as he looked up to see her pushing the weapon into his arms, numbly holding the blade as her bow deepened to an almost full prostration.


    ¡°My solemn vow.¡± her words grew heavy, but did not waver. ¡°If I should betray you at any point, you may use that sword to take my hand. My arm. Even my head.¡±


    ¡°Gratia¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t deserve to live if I cannot keep a promise this important.¡±


    She was not bluffing.


    Another silence, this time strained and uncomfortable, followed. Gratia had nothing left to fill it, and could only pray that Lucian¡¯s decision came quickly and favorably.


    She needed this, more than anything. If this gamble didn¡¯t come to fruition, she was done. She would have no chance left.


    Her very reason for being would have finally eluded her after nearly seventeen years.


    She was not once lying about being willing to reward him however she could for his cooperation if she should succeed.


    Couldn¡¯t he see that?


    Please. This is my whole life in your fucking hands.


    "..........."


    After what must have been an eternity, he placed the sword at his side, and began to speak.


    ¡°I ca¡ª¡±


    And then the room was flooded with wood, sound, and pain as the door behind her exploded.