Scars and Songs
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Quest XI!
Notes: I did say I would finish this before I left, and we're about to head out. Here you are. See you when I get back, FFN! Love ya!
~Dedication for Writer-of-Worlds. Thank you for being such a great friend and an even better support. I hope you enjoy this, and I'll see you when I get back!~
FIC START!
Standing before the training dummy, Hendrik held a sword up with both hands. He had confidence in his ability to aim for the vital points. He kept doing the reps over and over again, feeling his muscles ache from doing the same thing the day before. He could only assume the reason they did this so much was to make their body not feel a single thing when going through combat motions, to prepare their muscles before having to face an enemy in combat. He took in a deep breath, running at the dummy and landing a blow on its shoulder.
On his right hand side, a Heliodorian orphan with long blonde hair named Jasper was able to channel magical energies effortlessly and call up a fireball to burn his dummy. On his left side, the son of the greatest knight that ever lived and natural citizen of the port city, Norberto, held his sword confidently and executed a skill he'd only managed to see Don Rodrigo execute before. He stood between them, feeling dwarfed in comparison. These two boys were so full of talent and promise. They'd certainly be given important positions and high rank, well loved by not only the people but also the king. Hendrik tried not to feel out of place, but it seemed impossible. Not only had his whole home and family vanished overnight, but even among boys in his own age group, he felt alone.
"Hendrik," Norberto turned his head a little, his lovely features almost glowing in the torchlight. "Que esta mal?"
Hendrik only blushed, shaking his head. He didn't understand the language the locals spoke in. He'd never heard it before coming here, as no one in his homeland ever used such words.
"What's wrong?" Norberto asked. "You... you seemed to be staring off into the distance, like a lost puppy..."
"I'm not a lost puppy!" Hendrik retorted, refusing to admit how confused he was.
Jasper only scoffed and rolled his eyes. "He didn't call you a puppy... he said you just had the look of a lost puppy."
"I don't look like a puppy!" Hendrik pursed his lips, picking his sword back up to rush at the dummy with all his strength. After hearing the blade connect with the make-shift armor, he was so mad at that comment that he couldn't concentrate on his training anymore. His eyes welled up with tears, and he flopped onto the floor, dropping the sword with a loud clatter. Once they started to fall, there was no stopping it. Completely engulfed in his overwhelming helplessness, Hendrik sobbed loudly, covering his face with his hands. He couldn't get the visions of his home on fire. The mighty castle, all the huts on the edge of the city border. He heard all the screams of the people from outside the place where his mother had hid him in the back of his mind. He missed his mother and father. He missed the animals that his family raised on their farm. How could he grow to be a knight, when he was so weak?!
The rest of the squires in the training hall had turned to stare at him. One even started to laugh.
"Callate! Callate!" Norberto bent down immediately, wrapping his arms around Hendrik's shoulders. Those boys were lucky that he cared more about Hendrik's well-being more than he was angry at them for gawking and even laughing at someone clearly suffering. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the boy's feelings - he only asked because he wanted to find a way to make his classmate feel better. Wanted to make him smile. "Hendrik? I... I didn't mean to... hurt your feelings... oh, oh no, no..."
"He gets like that sometimes," Jasper said. "I don't know much about him or why he does that. The king said I should keep an eye on him..."
"It's... it's not you," Hendrik said, wiping his face again, only for more tears to fall.
"What's wrong?" Norberto asked, leaning in closer. He did his best to help Hendrik stand up on his own feet. "Why don't we go somewhere else and... just talk about it, si?"
When Hendrik nodded in agreement to that, beginning to follow Norberto's lead, one of the squires behind them placed a heavy wand underneath their feet, causing them both to fall to the floor next to each other. One of them spat in Hendrik's purple hair after calling him a crybaby. Another kicked Norberto as he loudly called him a spoiled pussy, which led to more laughing from the other boys.
Jasper stood defensively in front of Hendrik while Norberto stood up, storming over to the squire that called him a pussy and snatching him by the collar. He reared his fist back, smashing it into the kid's face. Blood splattered from his mouth, and he spat up a tooth. A fight broke out, with Hendrik curling up into a ball behind Jasper and Norberto.
Why did I survive the massacre? Why, if this was all life had in store for me?! There had to have been someone far more worthy of surviving!
Jasper and Norberto took blows instead of letting the other kids reach Hendrik, and while he wanted to stand up in front of them and keep them safe from harm, he couldn't manage to pick himself up off the floor. He felt terrible that the two classmates that seemed to tolerate him were in this situation because of him...
"That's enough!" Several adult servicemen came running in, pulling all of the children apart. Each of them held the collars of two boys, with a very confused knight finding neither Jasper or Norberto trying to resist, and Hendrik staring up at him, red-faced and on the verge of tears again. "Don Rodrigo, ven a ver esto!"
Norberto twitched for a moment, but he stood his ground. He believed that any knight would stand up for those that needed the help. He wasn't going to abandon anyone in need.
Don Rodrigo was the greatest knight known through all of Heliodorian history, and ever since he retired from the war front ages ago, he made it his mission to turn unruly boys into honorable men. Defenders of the people and the crown alike, upholders of justice. Knights. And when he almost stomped down into the underground training hall, finding his own son standing in the epicenter of a massive disturbance with all these other boys, he couldn't hold back his disappointment. He crossed his arms once he stood right in front of Norberto, staring down at him. "Caramba..." That fluffy mustache that always made his son laugh when they cuddled before, now hid a scowl. "...explain yourself, Norberto," he said coldly.
"Pap-" he bit his lip, remembering the rules of protocol. He had to use the military title in front of others. "Don Rodrigo, I was only doing my duty as a knight..."
"Your pampered son punched me in the face!" the squire with blood spilling from his mouth spat out. Several others agreed with him.
"Not out of aggression," Norberto continued. "I stood up for Hendrik!"
"Whatever," another kid said. "You only did it because Harry called you a pussy. Stop acting like you're better than us!"
Rodrigo shook his head. "Norberto."
"Sir."
"...two thousand practice strokes in the courtyard."
Norberto nodded. "Understood."
The others in the room, even the adults reacted to hearing that. He would be out there all day, and his arms would hurt for ages after doing so many practice strokes.
Hendrik pulled himself off the floor, wiping his face. "D-Don Rodrigo, please don't punish him..."
Rodrigo shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Hendrik. But I must. Training requires rules."
"But- but it's my fault!" Hendrik cried. "If anyone deserves it, it's me!"
"No, Hendrik," Norberto said sternly, walking past his father. With his back towards the rest of the class, he steeled his resolve to stick to it. As he stepped on, his short black ponytail swished back and forth. He would do as he was told, because he knew the rules. He agreed to them when he entered training. "Go rest, amigo... Let me do this."
"Wait..."
Rodrigo put his hand up, causing Hendrik to look up at him. "I am ashamed of the rest of you as well. All of you! No dinner tonight. Straight to bed once your lessons are done!" There were groans from most of the kids, but the Don was having none of it. "Get out of here! Sal de aqui!"
"Thanks a lot, crybaby," one of the squires said as he passed Hendrik, tripping him again.
The Don grit his teeth and pointed at him, having seen him do it. "Oi! Qu fue eso?!" He snapped his fingers and one of the older knights snatched the boy up by his collar. "You are not cut out to be a knight, boy..."
"Neither is he! That mopey face! The maids at the manor might call him cute, but that's just because he's a big baby!"
"Hendrik may have a gentle spirit, but that does not make him weak," Rodrigo said. "Once he is older, he will be able to put that gentle spirit to a much greater purpose, looking after those in need in the castle town. He will know what it is like to come from a position of pain, and will be able to reach more hearts because of it." He helped Hendrik to his feet. "Carnelian told me about you, son. It's difficult now... but I can see it. You will be a celebrated knight."
"Celebrated?" Hendrik asked. "M-me?"
Rodrigo nodded, then turned to the boy that had called Hendrik a crybaby. "And you. You will be on stable duty for a whole month."
"Why, because I'm not the king's favorite little crybaby?!"
"...you are testing my patience..." Rodrigo growled. "Take him away! The rest of you, to the classroom!"
As Rodrigo stepped away, Jasper motioned for Hendrik to follow him up the stairs and towards the classroom. They were both entranced by the Don's presence. He was known all through the world as someone to be reckoned with and they both could sense it just being in the same room as him. He was passionate about training these boys into knights, giving orphans and troubled children with no purpose a future to help the world become a better place. Hendrik wondered about Norberto, fearing for the soreness that would be coursing through his body only because the Don's son had stood up for him. Even to his father! He didn't understand why anyone would want to take blows to keep him safe. That didn't feel right at all...
Puerto Valor: A beautiful city made of brilliant white stone built upon the beach that served as the main port for Heliodor for what seemed like forever. Everyone from around the world came to this city for one of two reasons: to train with Don Rodrigo on the path to knighthood, or to test one's luck in the casino. The town was evenly divided between those two purposes as well - and if one were to look upon the bay, there were only two sorts of ships lining the docks.
Hendrik spent a significant amount of time in this city as a child. After he was discovered in the rubble of Zwaardsrust and adopted by King Carnelian, he had been sent here to live in the barracks as a squire. He attended classes of book learning, manners, and battle training every day, along with several others his age. He picked up his love for reading difficult texts here in his downtime, often asking Servantes if he could borrow a book from the Don's personal library. As a child, he thirsted for knowledge, for answers... there was so much he simply had to know... and no matter how much he searched, he never found what he was looking for. So, even now...
As he walked through the streets of the port, he noticed an old merchant had a push cart out by the cafe, right where the stone met with the sand. He couldn't help but look through the wares silently. The old man was kind and didn't mind the silence. He would watch children run along, some wearing the squire uniforms and others not, being as boisterous as children were known to be. There were plenty of books Hendrik never seen in there, and with titles like 'A Swordsman's Oath' and 'Achieving Glory', he was quite tempted to buy one. As he reached for his coin-purse in one of the pockets of his tunic, he found a cheerful, blushing face leaning right into his far too closely. Hendrik quickly stepped back with a loud gasp.
"What's wrong, darling?"
Ah, yes. Sylvando stood there, cocking his head to the side the way he always did. Always trying to act cute and innocent. It was something that Hendrik never quite understood, honestly. He had proven himself in battle time and time again, proving his strength was not just for show. Why would someone with such skills act this way? It was a far cry from all the men in the Heliodorian army that Hendrik had grown to know over his years in military service.
After catching his breath, Hendrik regained his composure. "Nothing," he said. "I just didn't expect you. I thought you'd be with the Luminary and the party... in the casino."
"While I do love a good spin of the slots, I couldn't help but worry about you, honey. What with that sullen expression of yours, I simply could not let you be. You know I am the knight in smiling armor," Sylvando answered. "If I cannot make even my own teammates smile, how can I even begin to think of making the entire world happy? ...I feared you had gone to Pa- ...err, Don Rodrigo's home. Come to find you're over here looking through dingy old books."
"...how can you call them that?" Hendrik asked, almost offended. "The world's history is preserved in books. There is so much to learn. Even Don Rodrigo himself said that knowledge-"
"-is power," Sylvando cut him off, repeating words of the past as if he had heard them himself. "You always were seeking more power, weren't you?"
Hendrik looked at him curiously.
"You're strong enough, darling," he continued. "You don't need to keep searching for answers, Hendrik."
"What ever are you going on about?" Hendrik asked bluntly, finally deciding to buy a large, leather-bound book titled 'Harolding the Truth: Standing for Honor', which sounded like a book he read when he was in his teenage years but could never find since then. He reached into his pocket and handed the old merchant the coin needed to buy the book. "What would you know about-"
Sylvando had turned around, overlooking the bay again. He had his eyes on his very own vessel that the party had been using over the course of their journey. Dave, the ship's main attendant, was swabbing the deck even now. He couldn't help but be overcome with nostalgia. Almost seemed as if he could break down into tears. "If you don't remember, honey, perhaps that is for the best," he said. "I'm sure Lucien and everyone else will come looking for us, so we should head back that way, no?"
Hendrik watched Sylvando do a piroette, damn near dancing around to make his way up to the stone street. He couldn't help but notice something strange about his left wrist. He didn't want to directly ask about it. Perhaps it was some sort of jewelry, or just some ripped edge of his clothing not yet attended to. He headed up that way, since he figured he was going to meet up with the rest of the party anyway, he might as well follow well enough to see what that was. Sylvando was not the type to keep his hands still, however, which made looking at that spot so very difficult. It wasn't until he was playing peek-a-boo with a child that he got a good look at it. It was a... a scar? He blinked a few times, staring at it.
A scar on his left wrist... knowing quotes by Don Rodrigo? Speaking several times over the course of their journey about the knight's code? And his skills with a blade were strikingly similar to that of the Don's as well, too...
"Hendrik," Sylvando said, calling him from his thoughts.
"Yes?"
"What's on your mind, darling?" he asked as he waved goodbye to the child he played with.
"I was... admiring your way with the child," he answered, not entirely lying. "I've never had the patience to deal with them."
"Oh, you are such a sweetheart," Sylvando chimed, blushing. "Children deserve to smile more than anyone else. All they suffer is not their fault. It is all adults that make things difficult for them. I hate that. Seems like no one ever stops to think about the ones that suffer because of their decisions!"
"You oversimplify it, but you are not wrong in your assessment," Hendrik said, thinking about it. "Sylvando, if I may ask you a question."
"Anything!"
"Exactly where did you learn your fighting technique?"
Sylvando sighed. "Mi papi, claro esta." Hendrik was always able to hear the accident within his teammate's voice, but for that one moment, it wasn't just the accent. He spoke in their native language, the one they spoke before this town became a territory of Heliodor. It was only known by the folks raised here, and only spoken when the tourists or the squires weren't around. Sylvando looked down at the stone, and that's the moment Hendrik realized exactly who he was speaking to. If he was from here, and had both the knowledge and the skills of knighthood, then... "Oh, sorry about that, I-"
"No, no, I did not mean to pry," Hendrik said, shaking his head. "I did not mean to offend you in any way. You are a valued member of the team, Sylvando, and I have no right to push you further than you are willing."
"It warms my heart to hear you say that!" Sylvando said, running up to Hendrik and grasping around him. He squeezed so tightly that it was hard to believe that such a tiny body could hold so much strength. "I love you so much~"
It was so much affection that Hendrik couldn't help feeling embarrassed about it all happening right in the middle of the city street. "Y-you're welcome..." he muttered, hoping the response would end the nightmarish amount of cheek rubbing he was getting against his shoulders, but no.
"I had no idea you two were so intimately aquainted," came a familiar voice nearby.
Hendrik blushed brighter as Jade approached them. "P-Princess, it-it's not- It's not what you think!"
"You don't have to explain anything to me," Jade said, holding back a quiet laugh. "I know how Sylv can be. We've traveled quite a while together, and he gets like this with everyone. It's just how he is."
Hendrik wasn't exactly sure how he felt about Sylvando rubbing up against the heir to the crown of Heliodor, but he decided to keep his commentary to himself.
"So. Lucien decided that we're going to spend the night here. I'm gonna reserve us a few rooms at the inn, like we always do," Jade said. She started walking again, heading up in that direction. "You don't mind being roomed together again, do you?"
"Of course we don't!" Sylvando said immediately, waving as she passed. He didn't even give Hendrik the chance to suggest he room with literally anyone else on the team, and... never mind. Hendrik had no issues with Sylvando, other than he was extremely distracting when sharing a room. "I guess you'll get your downtime enough to read through your new old book, hmm?"
"I would like that very much, yes," Hendrik answered honestly. "Though, am I going to have to ask you to let go of me enough so I can walk without hinderance?"
"I'm so sorry, honey," Sylv let Hendrik's arm go, albiet reluctantly, and they followed Jade to the inn.
When Hendrik opened his eyes again, he found himself on a bed. He had the book he had bought from the elderly merchant on his chest. He must have fallen asleep reading the book. He was certainly exhausted with all this traveling and preparing to defeat the Dark One in his flying castle. He let out a little yawn, and turned a bit to take a view of the window. He couldn't get his dream out of his head. Recounting something that happened during his first week while training here at the port. He was so little, so unaware of the workings of the world, back then.
He saw Sylvando's things on the bed next to his. His flute, his equipment for mending his clothing, and a few other oddities. One of the things he saw was a golden rosary. The only people he knew that carried rosaries were either knights or priests. That cross looked exactly like the one that all of the squires wore during their training and were expected to wear under their armor into combat! Hendrik shook his head, picked his book back up and began to read once again.
Suddenly he noticed someone humming nearby. A strikingly lovely voice. Once the humming turned to singing, he immediately knew that it was Sylvando's voice. Hendrik wasn't surprised to hear that Sylvando could sing. That man was an entertainer, and he would have used song quite a few times in his line of work. The song was vaguely familiar though, all of the words in the native tongue of the port citizens. He hadn't heard it since... since...
Don Rodrigo had all of the boys divided into pairs so they could practice their skills on each other. Everyone had graduated past the dummies and was now ready for a target that could counter, parry, or dodge. He was proud of how far they had come over the years. Some had left, some had joined up, and a few of them had been here for a full four years now. Out in the courtyard of his manor, in front of the hanging gardens.
Hendrik stood proudly, undefeated up until this point by anyone in this current class on this day of demonstration. He had grown much stronger since had come here. Now that he was ten, he didn't believe he was just some baby, lost without a family and without a home. He commanded strength enough to wield a basic greatsword, something very few children his age had the ability to do. As the wind brushed his lavender hair back off of his shoulders, another opponent approached him.
"Norberto," Rodrigo said. "Are you certain you wish to do this?"
"I'm not scared of Hendrik," Norberto said, bowing to his opponent. He drew his rapier and stood in a position that would make it easy for him to move. "After training with you for four years, I'm pretty sure I know how to take you down."
"Is that right?" Hendrik asked. They had grown to be trusted friends since Norberto stood up for him against that bully.
"You're a mighty wall, but you move slow."
"Heh..." Hendrik scoffed. "Well, come on! Don't keep me waiting!"
Norberto's movements were quick. He shifted his weight easily between his feet, as his frame was much smaller than most of the boys in their class. It was hard for Hendrik to know exactly where he would attack from. In comparison, yes. Hendrik did move a bit slower. But he wasn't trying to always stay moving. He wanted to be as sturdy as a shield, and he only swung his weapon when he was absolutely sure it would connect. Norberto grinned, lunging in at him, but Hendrik instinctively countered and swung down hard.
A loud clatter disrupted the entire group. Norberto held up his wrist, wincing in pain. It was bleeding! His rapier lay on the floor. Hendrik let his greatsword fall and grasped Norberto's arm, immediately regretful about everything.
"I- I'm so sorry!" Hendrik shouted, "I didn't want to hurt you..."
"Don't be," Norberto answered. "It's my fault for being too cocky. I may move faster than you, but you are stronger than I am. That was my mistake." He pulled his arm away and one of the older official knights brought bandages over to take care of the wound. "I'll forever wear that scar, my friend."
"Norberto..." Hendrik whispered, blushing a bit. He'd made a few friends while here, but he didn't like them the same way he liked Norberto.
"Gahh," Norberto grunted as he had his arm back. It wasn't broken, luckily. He could still move it, even it it hurt. He flexed it back and forth as he used his other hand to pick up his rapier and head out of the courtyard. As he went, Hendrik could hear Norberto sing to himself. Since Hendrik didn't understand, it was hard to tell what the song was about. But he didn't get much time to focus on it, as Jasper had picked up a sword and stood behind him, ready to have a go at the still undefeated champion of the day.
Hendrik stepped out of the room he shared with Sylvando at the inn, noticing a little steam coming through the hallway. The door to the bath was open just a bit, and as he stepped closer to it, Sylvando's singing grew louder and clearer. He stood there for a moment, knowing that once Sylv was done, it would be his turn. He remembered it quite well. Not long after giving Norberto that scar, he fled Puerto Valor. Eventually, no one could find him. He also remembered that, just like after the fall of his home, he mourned when people were saying that Norberto had run away and was killed by monsters. Hendrik stepped away, going back to their room, and heaved a sigh of relief. He was grateful to whatever powers were responsible that his childhood friend was alive. He pulled his towel from his rucksack undressed himself to wrap the towel around his waist, waiting for Sylvando's return.
"Ooooh~" Sylvando chimed as he came back in, clad in nothing but his own towel. "That felt fantastic~!" He seemed just as radiant as ever, if not moreso. "Well, it's your turn, darling. Do take advantage while we have the time."
"I plan to," Hendrik said, standing up. "But, before I go, may I ask you a question?"
"Do you even have to ask that? Always so formal with you!" Sylvando asked, turning around. "Oh, honey! Que esta mal?" It was not usual to see Hendrik's eyes watering for any reason.
"When were you planning to tell me about who you are?" Hendrik retorted. "I... I thought you were dead, Norberto..."
Sylv only smiled, reaching up to wipe away the few tears that had fallen all ready. "The Norberto you knew is no longer, Hendrik."
"But you sing the same songs, you bear a scar that I gave you myself!" Hendrik answered. "You are not dead."
"I suppose not," Sylvando said. "Forgive me, Hendrik... It is simply an identity that I choose not to be now. If you're looking for Norberto, he simply is no more." He leaned in and wrapped his arms around Hendrik. "You may not understand what this means, but I must insist. I am not a knight. I am not even the same boy you knew..."
"I- I..." Hendrik was at a loss for words. "...I missed you when you vanished."
"I loved hearing of your exploits as I traveled. Seeing your statue in Octagonia, knowing that you had stuck to it despite everything. Papi knew you were going to be a great knight, and you turned out to be the very best that Heliodor ever knew. That is quite impressive, darling."
"After losing so much, I only clung to it. I didn't know how else to handle what I was feeling," Hendrik said. "I... I still don't."
"You, confused? That's not very like you!"
"...I..." Hendrik blushed, pulling out of Sylvando's embrace. "No, it's not important."
"If it drives you to tears, it's important," Sylvando said, reaching for him with his left hand. He caught Hendrik's hand. "As the knight in smiling armor, I refuse to allow you to leave my presence unhappy! Now turn around and-"
Hendrik just picked up the arm and looked at the scar he created himself, then gave it a kiss.
"Wha-?!" Sylvando gasped, blushing redder than his usual circus uniform sleeves. "Hen... Hendrik?"
"There is an old saying that... a kiss makes it better," Hendrik said.
"...you don't have to explain yourself," Sylvando said, feeling his eyes well up with tears. "I understand what you're trying to tell me, in your own rigid way. Even if you can't directly say it... thank you."
Hendrik left to go get his bath and Sylvando sat down on his bed to pull on his clothes for the night. As he went through his own pack, he found an old book. Sylv hadn't gone through that book for a while. He had kept it for... years. He didn't remember exactly when he started keeping a diary as it wasn't dated, but on the very first page, he had written a small note. It seemed as if he missed Hendrik back then, too. He put it away as he pulled his clothes on, smiling the entire time.
FIC END.