a|n:
FFXIII-2, Caius-centric, I know Einstein doesn't exist in this world but give me a break on that one (please) ^^; Also I made those flowers up (as far as I know…). This is sort of a continuation of my other fic not today…although you don't necessarily have to read that one to understand this one. Caius is so hard for me to write ㅠㅠ
The Burdened
If insanity was doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results then Caius Ballad supposed, by definition, he was probably insane. Yet, while that was completely logical and sound he couldn't help but feel that that wasn't quite right. He wondered if things like that perhaps had exceptions because in his case, he didn't so much classify his repetition as insanity, but hope. Hope that maybe this time things would be different. That this time would be longer if not long, that maybe for once he would be useful. Losing that hope, breaking that routine, that would be what took him over the edge. Caius Ballad, for all intents and purposes, seemed capable, practical, and stoic but the layer beneath that was filled with enough hope to fill all the lifetimes he had lived and would live twice over. It was why his heart kept breaking.
For the first few days after it happened he would have to constantly remind himself he was alone. His first thought upon waking was She's gone, and then again when his bare feet touched the ground. How often he had to remind himself varied by the day, but always She's gone…She's gone…She's gone… so he would not expect something where nothing was left. Instead he would train, pushing his body to as close to its absolute limit as he could manage, thinking maybe if he was just a bit stronger this time things would be different. He knew it wouldn't. He knew it didn't matter, that it had nothing to do with him, but what else could he do? And what if?
(There was that damned hope again.)
After training he would meditate, folding his legs beneath him and tuning out everything. He would dull his hyper-aware senses and retreat completely into the heart of chaos. If she was back he would feel it, and if it wasn't time yet he would spend those moments remembering all her forms which briefly bloomed before withering.
It might have been better, easier, to try and forget. But he was her guardian, all of their guardians, and he would not let any of them fade away as if they had never existed. They were all the probable outcomes possible for her soul to form and he would honor each one by never forgetting. He was Caius Ballad, Guardian of the Seeress, Recorder of History. He knew everything that had happened, and would happen, and might have happened, thanks to her. When she returned he would find her and it would all begin again, and while it was all just history repeating itself, to who she was in this life it was both new and old with the potential to be completely overwhelming. His job as a guardian, if he couldn't protect her from her fate, was to help shoulder that burden.
(He would. He would take all of it if he could, and with a job like that, a fate like that, how could he not repeat himself? How could that be insane if it's what the goddess herself asked of him?)
But until then, he would tend to the memories with the same care and reverence the last Yeul gave to her flowers.
She's gone, She's gone, She's gone,
…
This day is the type of day where he has to repeat that to himself over and over like a mantra. He contemplates leaving the house early, setting out into the wild even before she has returned. He thinks about fighting Behemoths and other monsters until Etro calls him back.
If he stays here then he will go insane, for real.
(He will lose hope.)
So he makes up his mind. The next morning he goes off, on foot, wherever chance takes him. He will become stronger and guard the timeline until her return. He will hope.
He leaves everything behind except for his sword, a hand bound leather backed copy of Legends of the Goddess, and a horticulture book belonging to Yeul (just in case). For months he wanders, killing monsters, protecting time, surviving. The horticulture book comes in handy and he learns how to use the plants that grow wild for practical things. Thistlelilly for potions, Egrot for ether, firerose to seal wounds and heal scratches. When he has unfilled time he reads Legends of the Goddess and pencils in changes that Yeul has seen, or fixes things that aren't quite right anymore.
Occasionally, flipping through pages, he comes across a still fragrant, dry, pressed flower. He gently lays his fingers on it for as long as he can stand and he does his best not to disturb it.
He fights,
he remembers,
he hopes,
he waits.