Prior to Fayt's fall...

He lurked beside one of the tall concrete goddesses that decorated the requiem, his thoughts as steady as the beating of his heart. He'd learned how to control every muscle of his body through training courses as a small child; even simple involuntary movements such as the beating of his heart could be considered a variable while he was sober. This skill was an advantage that few could master and therefore served as yet another shot to boost his ego. It was extremely useful in battle; if a heartbeat was to strum too quickly, excessive blood was flow into the brain and make a man irrational and shaky. It could also prevent a victim from dying quickly if they became a prisoner of war. Constricted blood flow meant time discount and, if a man's soldiers were loyal, those few minutes meant another life. Albel had never been in that situation himself; he was too careful and too skilled to be captured by an enemy country. But masked behind obese buoyancy was a careful and rather lucid façade that reminded him time and time again that he was merely a man and those maggots could easily crawl into the roots of his silky locks and bite his scalp until it bled and ultimately push him across the transparent border of sanity and insanity.

And so, standing ever so awkwardly beside one of the sculptures whose siblings had been destroyed either by the claws of his gauntlet or beneath his power, was he, a fingernail tracing the outline of his lips, his gaze settled upon a fragile figurine who whispered prayers of illness upon he and his country. His breath was silent and slow, like a newborn sleeping child, and his heart worked, assured. Being captured and held captive or murdered by these fools was the least of his worries; unless they'd had a change of heart, which didn't seem likely, it just wasn't their way- and if they tried, he knew he was capable of slaughtering any soldier who tried. He was merely concerned with the consequences if he was spotted. Albel, a heartless Airyglyphian(?) general, standing inside a church of Apris without any applicable reasoning? It would scratch his reputation! Not that he cared, of course. Existing life shuddered when his name was mentioned inside their underlying thoughts, but still. He didn't want to explain himself or have to listen to petty gossip. He had other things to worry about, such as the Black Brigade's next attack and who, out of the many willing soldiers, was going to carry the honor of being personally criticized by someone of his likes. He didn't want to have to bear a lecture by King [enternamehere] that would resemble something like, "What the hell were you doing studying one of Queen [enteranothernamehere]'s maidens? Why didn't you slaughter her while you had the chance? Where do your loyalties lie? Does it look like I have a cock in my mouth?"

So if he was so determined to avoid drama, why did he stand there gawking like an idiot? He wasn't being productive in the least and he didn't plan on being productive; he was merely mesmerized by this well-scrubbed rube and figured it would be to his best interest if he… came to know her. In this religious setting, she was vulnerable, giving herself to an entity that had done nothing to prove its existence but text written by creative inventors of the past. Her prayers were her soul; her wishes, internal desires that perhaps no one knew of until his curiosity tilted the slate. "Protect her," the maiden wept softly. "Keep us from harm. Save our country, our churches, our people…"

The swordsman listened as though he were the holy god she prayed to. In some sense he might have been; the King trusted him enough to consider any advice he might offer. But would he? No. Airyglyph needed Aquaria's rich soil to boost their economy and feed their people during harsh winters. Pride was an awful thing that tore people and countries alike apart. If only their country had surrendered, there wouldn't have been as much bloodshed. And, again, he didn't mind that at all. He preferred using humans as targets instead of random fiends that happened about his capitol every now and again. They always put up a fight, no matter how pathetic, and they could speak his language! He loved how they cried for mercy or hurled insults at him as a strangled attempt to regain an ash of dignity. Besides, the human anatomy was fascinating. He never missed a detailed report on how long tubes of intestines might spill if the skin that contains the stomach is cut clean enough. But that was another thing he only shared with his enemies and others of his rank who too fantasized about unhealthy gore while jerking off instead of a beautiful woman. The point being? This was war, unfortunate and grim. In time the woman,… Nel, was it?, would understand and her emotions would be hardened. No more Apris. No more prayers. Only the feel calloused hands and dull blades.

Lost in a train of unsettled thoughts, Albel hardly noticed the unusual silence that accompanied the broad room. It was when he heard his name being said from the lips of the woman he'd been watching that he became cognizant and met her wide-eyed, frightened stare. Regaining his composure, he inched out from behind a giant elbow, revealing his own body plaid with armor. He was neither alarmed nor angry, but rather casual, and maintained a cocky composure. "What, maggot?"

Nel's fingertips curled into small fists. She took a step back, unsure, and tried to calm her fluttering heart. How long had he been here? What was he doing? Was this an attack? Were Black Brigade soldiers here? How could she possibly not have noticed his presence? Unsure of whether to feel personally violated, frightened, sturdy, or all of the above, she matched his casualness with a sense of apathy. "This is Aquarian land; you have no right to be here. Are you planning an attack?" Her voice rose as her roaming hunches became focused. "I have neither weapons nor armor; I would assume that someone like you would have the decency to not attack someone while they are most vulnerable… but then again, you are an Airyglyphian soldier."

Albel scoffed. "Why ever would you assume that I have come to battle? Why, I came to relieve myself on your brick and pray that your people put up a challenge instead of dropping like flies. Not that I expect it to happen- she hasn't answered any of your needs."

"How dare you!" said Nel, unable to conceive much of an insult. When all the Nox did was laugh, she continued to press for desired closure. "We do not insult your country or your beliefs; you could at least respect ours, even in time of war. Why are you here? Why are you still standing there?"

Albel wasn't entirely sure how to respond. He could press her temper with further insults that would have anyone question his morals, but he did not. Yet he simply couldn't find words of praise or describe his infatuation with her when he himself did not understand. So instead he offered a careless shrug, turned on his heel, and just as he took a step forward, offered a phrase. "Use your imagination, girl. Even flies like you have a brain."

And he was gone just as quickly as he'd appeared before Nel's consciousness. She stared, wide-eyed, still as defensive as she had been when he recognized his appearance. For now her mind would dwindle on the most obvious questions and, later, as she explained this encounter to Clair, would consider Albel the Wicked's psychology and intentions. He was shorter than usual and trivial; he'd called her a fly instead of a maggot, a thin step on the chain. Was he trying to say something? Was he inspecting the church? Or… was he inspecting her?

A/N: Damn, I haven't written here in forever! I recently began playing Star Ocean again(I never finished it) and tried to pick up on where I left off two years ago, but I could hardly even remember how to battle. So instead I started a new game and fell in love with this couple. Right now I'm at the point where they go into the forest to rescue Sophia and that other chick, so I'm still relatively at the beginning, and I was going to wait until I get more Albel action to actually write a story, but I just started typing and before I knew it I had a decent paragraph. I hope it's not too bad- I always try to really get the characters right without copying the original manuscript word-by-word. And, just like everything else, this little passage was originally going to be just a bunch of rambling without any future chapters, but I decided against it. I miss writing here. I've been roleplaying on MySpace but lately I haven't really been in the mood to write with someone else, so for now I'll be here. I honestly appreciate reviews; I want to know if you're happy or disappointed or have any advice to offer. If you want to see something or have an idea, let me know. Reviews are really great and especially inspiring; the more I receive, the guiltier I'll feel for not posting chapters sooner. Honestly.

So… I can't really think of anything else to say. OH! Shit. And about the royalty's names, I'll get those. I was just too lazy to look them up and it doesn't say it right off in the little strategy guide. Or if someone wants to tell me, that'd be cool too. I'll probably stay pro-Albel for future chapters and get beneath his skin. Expect filthy language and situations that won't necessarily count as being "romantic". I hate those stories where Albel's suddenly soft for Nel and they just forget everything and fall in love, you know? But anyways, please review. Or I see that we have private messaging things now, so… uhh, if you want send me something there? Haha, thank you for reading all of this.

+ Isolde Necrophilia;