"Might I ask...?" A familiar voice began.
"No, you might not."
The voice was silent for a moment, but eventually it got impatient, and its need to protect the little girl overthrew its need to obey her orders.
"You can't learn something that you're not meant to be taught, it isn't..."
"Shut up, Mog. I'm trying to concentrate."
Her beloved moogle, or what had been her beloved moogle, now turned into merely a spirit that seemed to arise just to tell her when she was doing something wrong, quieted itself and she felt its presence leave her body.
"You know how important this is to me, Mog..."
Feeling its acceptance again, Mog returned. "But there are other ways..."
"I've tried all the other ways!" She stood suddenly, arms flying in frustration. "This is the only way left! So, if you're not going to help me, then just leave me alone so I can concentrate!"
With a defeated sigh, Mog began instructing the girl. Truthfully, she wasn't ready. She had the capacity, as a white magic user, to learn new magic, but her purpose for it might not allow her to actually use it correctly. If that's what she wanted so adamently, though, they would give it a try.
Beatrix sat at a pub in Lindblum, staring at three glasses of alchohol. She had never had a taste for such a substance, but its presence seemed to heal her, if even the slightest bit. She peered down at the plain sword that hung at her side; far from the Save the Queen. The only reminder she had now was a rose bracelet that graced her right wrist and of course, the memories.
Those damned memories. Always the bad ones, never the good. Always the times she had hurt or been hurt. As she allowed herself to slip beyond reason, one came back to her. Alexandria. The castle. Her sword. Her planned escape.
It had been a good plan, really. She had intended to leave without anyone ever noticing. But someone did notice. The only one she felt she might not have been able to resist had he dared to stop her. And he did. Part of her wanted to stay and another part wanted to leave her past behind. The former part managed to win out, if only for a few more hours. She had amused him and herself, making them both think she would stay, when in reality, the perilous person she had let herself become thirsted to hurt someone else more deeply than they had ever been hurt before. Why not him?
Beatrix shook her head. It was relentless, thinking that way, but it made her feel better. Putting up such a facade hid what she needed to hide. She hadn't liked what she had become in Alexandria, that much was true, and she didn't want anyone else to like what she had become, either. That would be her punishment. And it had worked for so long. Her distant nature kept her far from ever gaining interest in those who sought her, but more than that, something about them had always rubbed her the wrong way. Of course, she never let it show.
Then why, with him, had she always managed to show such disdain, when in fact, she respected him more greatly than he could realize? The fact was not lost to her that the Knights of Pluto were Alexandria's big joke in the way of military forces. Yet he had made them into something the people could be proud of. They had evacuated the citizens in a time of need; a time when they were too frightened to be sure of what to do.
So why then, had such a respect been shown so hatefully? Of course, by the time she had began wondering that, she had arrived at point where she had to force herself into believing it was only respect that she felt toward him and nothing more... Yes, she had done a very good job of not falling into any traps that night before Alexandria was attacked... a very good job indeed. What would she have let herself get into - what more pain could she have caused - had Baku not shown up when he did?
She cursed herself aloud, catching the bartender's attention. "Is there something I can get you, Miss?"
No one recognized her now. That was how she wanted it. Her hair had grown longer and she had dyed it a much darker brown. The eye patch was still there, but not one of such regality. The one she wore currently looked like a rag she had plucked from the streets. Her clothes were tattered and stained with dirt, her fair skin just the same. The hood from her formerly white cloak managed to conceal much of her dirt-covered face.
"Another glass." She said simply.
"But, Miss, you already have three glasses and they've been untouched..."
"Do you or do you not want my business, Kind Sir?"
"Of course, Miss. Another glass it is."
Dagger lay in her room, listening to the clanking of armor in the hall. As much as she wanted to jump from her bed and tell him to silence himself, she couldn't bring herself to be quite so mean. He was upset. Years of being around him told her
that. The very fact that he was pacing up and down the hall told her he was either nervous or upset, but the way his strides fell in such a quick, heavy manner gave away his emotions.
She could also take an open stab as to why he was so upset. Though it had been three months, he had taken to pacing every now and then, ever since the day she had to reveal the truth to him.
It had been a dreary day in Alexandria. The time for play and festivities was over, and she had to accept the responsibilities of being a queen. As early as three, a few people were lined up at her door ready to voice her concerns. Fearing for her well-being, Steiner had not let them in until six, though she had been awake nearly the entire night.
They were citizens, it turned out, of a small village that dwelled in the forests just outside of Alexandria. Their village had been sacked and burned, and they wished to repent. The Knights of Pluto were still asleep in their barracks, but she had noticed a few of Beatrix's soldiers up and about. She had decided to put in a request to her general for a few of them to be sent to
the village.
When she had arrived at the general's quarters she knocked politely, though as queen she could have rightfully opened the door without such courtesy. No one had answered, so she checked the docks, were Beatrix had seemed to spend much of her time. The boatman was there, just as he was every morning, but instead of his
usual, "Good morn, M'Lady," he presented her with a note.
-I have left Alexandria on my own will. No one had forced me. I will not be returning, so please don't attempt to follow me. I have served your country well, my queen, and I have never asked
for anything in return. Now I ask that you never seek me.-
It had not been signed, but it was easy to tell who it had been from. It shocked her, and she found her feet had carried her back to the castle when she could not even recall walking there. Still in her daze, she had managed to bump into rusted armor without even hearing its clank.
"My Queen! Please forgive me! I should have paid more attention!" He apologized quickly, extending a gloved hand to help her up. She accepted it, the letter still in hand.
"That letter must be well worth reading, My Queen? Is it from a neighboring country? Lindblum? I noticed you received it from the man at the docks."
She had said nothing. How could she? He had been in such a cheerful mood that entire day and she was too much of a coward to bring bad news upon him. Of course, he was an intelligent man. When Beatrix had turned up missing and word spread like wildfire among the city, he had come back to her and persisted about the note. She had let him see it, and since then,
he had not presented a decent conversation with her nor anyone, for that matter.
"Steiner..." She said quietly.
The clanking of armor stopped abruptly as he seemed to realize what he was doing.
"My apologies, My Queen. I wished to stand guard outside your door. Apparently my feet wished to do otherwise."
"Yes, apparently they did..."
He had stopped, but in an hour or so, resumed. Dagger gave up trying to sleep and peered out her window at the castle gates below. It had not yet reached seven in the morning and already a line of people crowded her doors.
"Another day..." She said with a sigh, preparing for whatever troubles might have arisen overnight.