*Save My Tears*
A Legend of Dragoon Fanfiction
Written by Rap's (RaptorJNB@aol.com)
Notes:
uh... none really. Rose and Lloyd are the absolute perfect couple.
SO THERE. This fic was written because, goddamnit, I just had to
write it!! Hope ya' enjoy. ^_^ and be aware that this occurs BEFORE
the game. *Giggles* Heck knows I'm not great author- but alas...
I MUST TRY!!!!!
----
Walk alone
Boots drumming to the distant flute
And cry if only to let him
Caress the pain away
That he should inflict
Upon you.
--- Save My Tears ---
Fate.
It felt so odd to see it now... printed in dry black ink that was
crafted lightly over the papyrus she held. A dark four letters that
loomed into her eyes. Mocking font that seemed to laugh at her across
the ages. Chuckle madly through the many years past in which she
had thrust and swung. Tossed her sword carelessly to human flesh.
A brief flicker of thought found it absurd. Holding this limp paper;
fingers trembling to crush it as if to crush her own existence.
~Fate is what it has always been. And should cruel have a definition
no more true then this-, cruel should not have even known meaning.~
A gust of wind frayed at raven black lashes and hair. Whistled up
through the hard rifts in her armor with startling ferocity. Sometimes
Rose could feel the chilling element and even imagine Syuviel standing
nearby. Smiling in his knowledge. Carefully toying with the prowess
of his Dragoon Spirit. Her armor gave a light rattle as she turned
into the breeze and closed her eyes.
They reopened upon the old, worn parchment. Deft gaze scanning the
warped text and not bothering to linger upon fate- nor the paragraph
dedicated to it's eternal vigilance. Why had she even kept this
rotting item? Preserved it's course surface and gritty lettering
with precise care as time flashed by?
As gentle traces of smoke and burning flesh etched over her slender
nose, Rose remembered. Began to read. Her cold, distant eyes- those
that should ever glow hard as granite- refused to glance east.
Out into the rising sun, where the fires of Neet still burned.
... And should our strength in the divine creator remain,
we should defy fate. We should catch her hand and lead her astray
as to bring forth the kingdom of freedom. That we should not find
ourselves weak. That we should not open our hearts to the loathing
of fear and the adulterous caress of hate. That we should laden
ourselves with meaning; and carry out that mind with justice, of
courage, of life....
Rose swept an even, unwavering gaze to the line below this, and
there let it linger.
That we must prevail, as to attain the soul of prosperity and
let none stand in our path. Most holy mother, amen.
~Diaz, you were a poetic man... if not however brutal- Ever poetic.~
How long ago had he written this? Time seemed such a distant concept.
The words of his speech that had been so carefully inscribed upon
the paper was old as the memories of then. There.
~... As to attain the soul of prosperity, let none stand in our
path.... ~
Her path. As the Black Monster.
And there was no other choice.
Still though, even after 11 thousand years she could hear her mind
screaming 'murderer!' in the most merciless of chants. Weeks and
months and years had grown a cold heart to this voice- and even
as it rang in her mind Rose did not truly identify it's existence.
Her demons would remain locked away for eternity. Masked under her
hate- rage, and pain. Forever hidden, as to one day acknowledge
that voice would be to in the same instant acknowledge her own suffering.
Rose did not Suffer. She survived.
She did what was necessary, and she read that small paragraph every
108 years to remind herself that this was her fate. Her destiny.
A twine of endless death.
Indifferent features flickered to the burning village- flames crackling
high over the tree tops some few miles away. No expression could
have been so callous, controlled, and utterly able. No other could
hold such a curse.
Carefully standing with unnatural balance, Rose walked the length
of a dark, ancient tree limb and swung to the lower branches. Each
shadowed in the veil of pre-dawn, her dark form vanished under the
rustling leaves without even the slightest noise.
***
Smoke.
His body was still an an instant; crimson eyes set. Wary. The unnatural,
and yet familiar smell of lingering death invaded his nostrils,
forcing him to twitch his mouth into a grim line of understanding.
When flesh and blood scented the air, it was best to be on one's
toes. Lloyd were not a man used to sensing carnage nearby.
Not of any he hadn't dealt, in anycase.
The fabric of a loose black vest crept easily with his frame as
the Wingly slunk forwards. His dark sling belts and thick boots
hardly gave a whimper of sound as he made quick and alert pace about
the ragged forest floor. Along the ground foliage was thick- and
so absently, once or twice in his travel, a splintering flash of
light would extend into the darkness. The clear wings that fluttered
along the air vanished moments later. Afterall, he couldn't chance
attracting attention to himself. Although a great convenience, flying
about freely would not warrant him the best of reactions.
But that was beside the point...
Truthfully, Lloyd had sensed a disturbance on the air long ago-
when he had just started out from his temporary residence near Deningrad.
It was a feeling. Of unease, terror, and hatred. A mass of conflicting
emotions that were not his own- but the vibrant traces of the dying
and the dead.
It was a massive surge that danced along his mind- and his mind,
in turn, then felt itself drawn to seek out this raging source.
With amusement, he envisioned Doel's perplexed frown. The Sandorian
Emperor would not take kindly to his running late. But then, what
was Doel to him but a mere pawn in the game?
The forest was thick now, with a settling fog that not even the
brightening sun could pierce. It was ash. Heated air and putrid
wind that slapped death over his body like a warm, damp blanket.
Indeed- a massacre had taken place. His mind quickly reviewed his
knowledge of Milli Senseau, and the towns that would be located
nearby.
His eyes flashed.
Neet. Yes- that would be the closest human development in this area.
A Pity.
Ruby eyes alert and watchful, Lloyd took it upon himself to follow
the drone of fire. The light, sparking noise that had arisen in
previous moments acted like a beacon. Leading his acute hearing
to the ravaged town with each new footfall. It was curiosity perhaps
that drove him. Or a lingering respect for anything or anyone who
could cause so much damage. Lloyd would be interested in the presence
of a threat. Whether to he or anyone else, one was better left informed
then unsure. He didn't want some bumbling creature up and interfering
with his ideals at a future time.
It were not more then five minutes later that he arrived upon the
scene and took in a breath of semi-surprised air.
Complete and total destruction. A looming mass of blackened buildings
that trickled into view as he approached. Indeed- the fires were
rampant. Great licking flames bathed the sky. Surged over rooftop
shingles and charred, lifeless bodies. Mangled forms were strewn
limp amongst the ruins. Victims of a deadly opponent- with blacked
lips pulled up in death. Teeth bared in a soundless scream for mercy.
Lloyd stopped moving, content to observe the chaos. As his thoughts
drifted to sense the patterns of another, of anyone who might still
be alive, he was met with an empty void of negative space. Only
the emotions remained, clinging to his face and hair and body. Bathing
him in the anguish of hundreds dead, slain and burning within the
apocalyptic scene.
Blinking once to remove fluttering ash from his eyes, Lloyd found
himself giving a silent prayer to the dead. Unfortunate... a very
unfortunate happening.
But one completed nonetheless. On to his next endeavor.
Who had committed this act?
His conscious pushing away the rampant ideals of a feverent mind
for the time being, Lloyd took to searching. He began with a simple
raise of his chin. A flicker of his intelligent eyes.
A gaze such as his easily noticed the bloody footprints nearby-
stamped into the saturated earth like a token of murderous intent.
These tracks lead towards him- behind him... out into the ominous
forests that covered Milli Senseau. A span that regulated a woman's
walk. But that of a strong woman... and almost all at once Lloyd
sucked in a breath.
~108 years, you fool. The deed of she they call the Black Monster
has yet again come to pass. Upon what distant fancy did your mind
forget such a thing?~
Yes... Diaz had told him her coming would be soon.
Turning fully, silver hair wavering upon his brow, Lloyd found himself
following the footsteps. Then, when they failed to remain visible,
her emotions. Her essence, and her energy.. The traces he could
sense just as clearly as he could recognize those of the dead. And
it was a stupid action really. He knew this in some logical, distinct
corner of his mind... but by the gods- he wanted to understand.
He wanted to see her. Find her, know the woman for whom time stood
still. Of whom Diaz had so often spoken.
~And did not curiosity kill the cat?~ his mind reasoned. ~You are
no fool. You have no business in this affair.~
But his motives did. His ideals did. His struggles were connected
to this solitary figure. This unknown compliant of fate that he
-knew- should come into contact with him at SOME later date. His
utopia depended on it.
It was simply to true of a chance. To short of a time between her
actions, and his arriving. She would still be nearby.
And he walked off- using every skill and every motion to find the
unholy dragoon.
***
Midday.
Rose hefted her mug onto the shaky oak counter, watching listlessly
as the froth of her drink sputtered and hiccuped a few bubbles into
the air. Wyrm Tonic. A disgusting concept really, but it's taste
was a strong and pungent sort that would dissolve the hard coldness
in her belly. Or at least attempt to, in anycase.
Even hard liqueur had never much effected her.
The bar keep of 'Doraj'e Tavern' was a man used to her odd drinking
habits, and kindly filled her another glass upon sauntering by.
He offered Rose a smile, a nod, and went about his business. A customer
Rose was, and a frequent one at that. She was thankful that Michael
(Gods, to think that name...) knew when and when not to approach
her. Tidy up shop, stay silent. Good man.
Pursing her lips in the aftermath of another large swig, the dragoon
of darkness let her gaze amble across the inn and settle unwittingly
over the few others within. A flirtatious young man and woman...
a middle aged harlot that sat sulking in one gritty corner. Even
a haggard old drunkard that flashed her one to many dirty grins.
Each was bathed in the sickly light that filtered into the room.
A sullen color tinted ill as it streamed through yellowing windows.
Turning her eyes away and back upon her drink, Rose quietly fumbled
a small paper from a pack at her side and- just as quietly -unfolded
it. Although not the words she had read that morning, these too
held a significance all there own.
108 years- she had accomplished her duty. Another 108 would pass
until again her sword should thrust... and already she must begin
the long process of learning, searching, finding... being able to
identify the next moonchild.
Princess Louvia were a beautiful girl. After leaving Neet, flying
like the literal Angel of death to that fated ship upon the sea,
the thought had been among her first.
Odd. And yes- a mere hour later the sun was full and noon had broke.
She found herself here. Again.
Undoubtedly the soul of the God of Destruction had already swept
itself unknown into the body of another unborn child.
Such was life.
Rose. The paper read- script like a flute that sang of years
past. I love you.
Such was fate.
Fold. Twist. Replace. The small note was thrust back within her
armaments. A fragment of a letter that had survived when Zieg had
not. Had dried her shocked, clear tears should one chance to fall.
And, ludicrous as it might seem, none had.
Rose could not remember crying in centuries...
Just then, her back gave a shiver as the door opened. She felt the
winds of a chilly afternoon swirl about the tavern, and just as
quickly cease when the shabby entrance closed in one solid motion.
A simple traveler. Another she would have thought ordinary- if Rose
did not hear him speak.
"Barkeep?" Even, strong tones. With back still turned,
a shot of something alert and wary ran the length of her spine.
"Eve Rum, if you please..."
Footsteps solid as his voice made pace to the bar at which she sat,
and Rose could nearly imagine the others in the tavern. Each face
turned in curiosity to this newcomer. Perhaps wondering of her as
well- who had not even glanced in his direction.
Caution...
It was such a distinct feeling. A firm sigh that tugged within her
memory. Somewhat confused by her own reaction, Rose attempted to
remain indifferent. From the corner of her eye she could see the
flirtatious woman, interest now distracted from her jealous other.
The harlot too had a sinister grin on her face. The elderly drunkard
had shook away his lewd smile.
Curiosity tossed aside her abstract dignity. Rose turned to glance
at the traveler with jaw firm and eyes ever cold.
~By the GODS!?~
Frozen. Her thoughts, her mind and features... they drained of whatever
color might had been present and fell to a stunned, staggering mind.
One hand was at her sheath, the other clenched tight as her stomach
rolled twice.
A Wingly.
He was... A Wingly.
***
Sigh.
Crimson eyes fluttered briefly to the tavern keeper as Lloyd took
his drink. He quickly lifted a few lucre from his pocket, paid the
man, and sat down all in the same motion. A yawn. A slight thump
as his glass returned to the counter top.
The drink always tasted like bitter wine. An oddity he should like
it.
And yet...
The quiet his entrance had disturbed was now building once again.
A simple, almost depressed tang in the room that were broken only
by soft talk or casual shuffling about. He himself stared directly
ahead- eyes distant, thoughtful... carefully trying to evaluate
the last few hours.
Of which the black monster had not been a part of, unfortunately.
He had lost track of her sometime after leaving Neet, and irritation
flooded his generally aloof persona. It was probably for the better,
in all good logic. Diaz would surely have not approved, and he was
supposed to be well within Serdio some two hours ago.
Lloyd again sipped his drink, grimacing.
Before, Doel would have been amusing. Now- he would be downright
annoying. It was somewhat unnerving to think how very much the sandorian
emperor resembled Kanzas- and Lloyd had no mood for a temper of
his sort right now. The man was a far cry from his nephew... and
it amazed him to think they were even related. It was somewhat unfortunate
that, in time, he would have to kill the young boy.
Just another innocent slain. He should be getting used to this by
now... and a dark, nearly morbid chuckle shook his throat
~We share much in common, you and I.~
It took Lloyd a delicate moment to realize his thoughts had drifted
back to the Black monster.
***
Gods...
The force it took to lower her hand from it's trembling position
was more then immense. It was nearly painful as Rose moved five
slender fingers from the hilt of her sword. She cursed her reaction-
and cursed herself for loosing an aspect of control that- although
unnoticed by others- tore at her mind. Her eyes pinned themselves
to the glass in front of her, attempting to slow the pulse that
beat throughout her body.
~Of all creatures, of all places... I would find one HERE!?~
Rose was fully aware they still existed. But she had not known any
to do so other then within the confines of Ulara. Unmistakable were
his ruby eyes and short cropped silver hair. Just as easily she
had felt a tweak of power race along her flesh. HIS power.
It was like a thin, strong aura- and she shivered under the lingering
presence. The fact that he could even retain such quantities disturbed
her... she had never favored the idea of meeting a powerful Wingly.
Certain not again.
As a few minutes passed, Rose managed to ease her tense posture
and look more casual. Feel more secure under the dim lights around
her. Yes- A Wingly. ONLY a Wingly. Another species- a man.. No more.
The over reaction grated on already strung nerves, but Rose knew
she had to stop the ache in her heart that beat -kill- over and
over again.
Images of the Dragon Campaign fluttered briefly amongst her thoughts.
And should she rise? make a scene and cut him down? There would
be no reason for it. He was calm, not hostile.. Sitting near and
taking absent sips of Eve Rum. The one thing Rose were sure any
Wingly would want to keep secret was just that. That he or she was
part of the hated, feared, and nearly extinct rulers of an ancient
past. Who was she to put him in mortal danger by mentioning the
such in a bout of rage?
~It is not like you to hold prejudice.~ Her mind reasoned. ~Finish
your mug- and leave.~
And she might have been able to do just that if her eyes hadn't
turned then, and found themselves locked with his own.
***
Breathe.
It indeed felt as if he could not. As if in that sudden, abrupt
contact he had somehow lost the ability. Lloyd froze, quivered slightly
under her sharp eyes and burning gaze. What had even possessed him
to shift a moment and take note of her presence was something the
tall, silver haired Wingly could not decipher. All he knew now was
that he had...
And Lloyd had never experienced such a true feeling of entrapment.
Not ever by simply finding his gaze drawn into that of another.
A light cough.
They both snapped shaken features to Michael, who opened his mouth,
closed it, and then worked his jaw slightly. The uncertain keeper
absently dusted his apron, looking rather anxious under their scrutiny.
He finally mumbled a wavering; "Er, sorry to interrupt. Heh..."
And smiled after, holding up a pitcher to refill their glasses.
Almost mechanically, both Rose and Lloyd nodded an abrupt thank
you.
~Take a breath, fool.~
As Michael quickly shuffled away, Rose felt herself emit a small-
uncertain gasp. Her eyes avoided that of the Wingly, stunned to
find such depth to his crimson gaze. Blood that she could drown
in, if given time. Her alert posture was back in full, unused to
and surprised by the utter complexity of his features. This man
held more then power... and she could sense all the threads of a
strong, passionate mind. Determined to reach goals... outcomes she
could not dare to imagine.
~So odd... so very odd...~
A deafening silence.
"Might... I ask your name, miss-?"
Rose stiffened to hear his voice again and nearly shivered once
more. It was amazing to her that each thought afterwards was not
preoccupied with the quick creation of a proper alias. Instead,
she felt an honesty well inside of her. She -wanted- him to know.
"Rose..." Came her near whispered reply. To say it felt
almost alien... like something she had forgotten.
Who Rose once had been was not this. Rose died long ago- when the
Black monster had slain it's first.
His voice came again, melodious and fluent. Accented with the knowledge
of a thousand different travels. It took away her troubled thoughts
with dangerous ease... And this time, she turned her head to regard
him- accepting his gaze without the freezing shock of before. He
smiled very lightly.
"It's a beautiful name." He echoed in a pleasant, conversational
manner. "My own is Lloyd."
Although her mind scowled and screamed and wanted to slap her for
such idiocy- Rose chuckled. Laughed even- light and horrific. Frightening
herself as she realized that yes- she could still do so.
He let the most wry of looks cross kind features. "Something
funny?"
"Oh..." And the adaptable tone of her voice was so unnatural,
Rose might have run from the tavern altogether in later moments.
"No- I just...It's not something I would have expected to call
you by. It-" She shook her head, trying to dispel her conflicting
emotions.
He laughed. "I'm victim of a very plain and dysfunctional parentage.
Blame them."
~Oh- god!~
Rose smiled in earnest, trying desperately to force back the laughter
in her throat. His wit was dry enough to scald her, and she despised
that. Or- more despised herself for allowing it. This 'Lloyd' simply
matched her grin with all the graceful patience of a lion, letting
her small fit pass and echo out upon the tavern.
"I will then." She remarked, regaining herself. "But-
I apologize. That was inappropriate of me."
And, as he spoke further, Rose listened if only to free her mind.
It was with some guilt that she found herself, for once, open to
a conversation. Open, JUST once, to a voice that would take her
thoughts from the events of last night.
And as odd as it were... as odd as it seemed...
She could do this.
Just once.
Until the afternoon gently rolled into existence, and distraught
travelers filled the small building with word of Neet's destruction.
***
Bwa hahahah!! More coming soon!! Er- I do hope you like what I have
so far. ^_^ Lloyd and Rose ROCK baby! eheh!! Unfortunately, for
those for you who adore the happy ending, this story does not exactly
include one. ;_; Please tell me what's wrong with it!! There is
ALWAYS something wrong with my stories!!!
Till next we write? *sheepish smile* Come on all!! more LOD fanfics!!