A Draught of Love
A Vagrant Story fanfiction
By D. "Mintaka" Peal
Author's Note: Only recently did I get my hands upon the glory of this game, and love every minute of it. [Aside a few jumps. :D] I was not intending to write any fiction related to it; I did not see anything I could really work on. Not until I happened to have the merging thoughts of Sydney's pretty-open past, the time he had as leader of Mullenkamp, and a song that sparked something in my brain - plus a spot of dialogue in the game from Sydney to Samantha. BTW, I have the suspicion there shall be spoiler-y things in here - I can't seem to work without them somewhere, despite its placement.
Thus I took a hand at Vagrant Story. I'm pretty much pulling threads form near-nowhere and working up a past on Sydney and the cult before the events of "the Greylands incident". I might even go so far as to include the opening there. Who knows? I have vague ideas, so we're in this ride together, for better or worse on what exactly will come.
I make no promises about anything other than my own little spin on things before the game. Expect some name dropping to happen - I fully intend to explore all options. Well, shall we take a journey?
~-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-~
Chapter 01 // She Remembered
Sydney Losstarot was a man unlike any other. His name was whispered far and wide, and few could resist the lull of his voice or of what he spoke. Those who did were typically already rooted into another fate - and those of St. Iocus had a very bitter taste indeed from it.
All could resist but one woman, who had only embraced the faith because she had no escape. And at this point, she was almost going to become a preacher of the faith, and she resented it. She had no faith in the hallo hopes of Iocus, and would have rather died then be where she was. And as it was, she would find her release soon enough.
At the same point, not too far, a young man was coming to a crossroads in his on journey of faith, but his would be a twist of fate that would only bleed. But such bleeding was not for his faith - not the faith he held at this point.
The region was a fairly quiet one, letting its residents be born, live, and pass on in relative silence and obscurity from the world. Until the arrival of a charismatic blond who would turn their world upside down, leaving it less lively and taking a few souls along for a journey no one could have seen.
~-_-_-~
The small town of Havensword was peaceful, tranquil, and home to only a handful of people. On that autumn day, Morrina Galestrom was walking down the lane heading from ton, her head covered in a grey shawl and her black dress flowing about her slim figure in defiance of the Iocan faith. She cared not for what they thought of her habits, she enjoyed the clothing she wore, even if she was often chastised and punished for it. She cared not by this point; she only wanted freedom, and by her studies and listening, she had learned of a far greater person to worship.
Mullenkamp had indeed been interesting to learn about, discarding the bias of the priests who mentioned her name. She had been a dancer, which Morrina herself preferred to do - except that her family would not allow her to. She could dance with the best of anyone - if she had a chance to try. The Galestrom family was one of the important families of Havensword - and the surrounding areas - and it was considered improper for her to do something as "dirty" and "low" as dancing.
'Name be damned,' she thought sourly. 'I want to do as I please, not be some caged bird, forced to "sing" on command - or preach. I cannot fathom how anyone could love such a restrictive faith. one that does not let the person enjoy what they desire most.' She ran a hand through her long brown hair, and readjusted her shawl, her blue-grey eyes looking at the sky above for a moment.
She had also heard that a man named Sydney Losstarot led the cult that worshipped Mullenkamp. 'An interesting name,' she had thought. She could not get much on him, as no one would go on about him. Many said he was good-looking, and charismatic. Most detested him, but she daydreamed of this man who led a cult that seemed so much better then the trap she as caught in. She would never amount to much in the Iocan faith, as women never held any position of power. A lowly nun for life, devoid of love and other things. 'I do not desire such, even if it condemns me.'
She was far enough from town that no one would see her and she stepped off to the side of the road under the shade of a great ash tree, and spun into a dance on the soft grass, among the falling leaves. She danced a few minutes, reveling in the freedom, and as she slowed to a pause, heard something.
Something like the sound of metal hitting metal, but controlled and steady. much with the rhythm of clapping. She looked up quickly, worried she had been caught and saw someone who she did not recognize at all. "Magnificent, if I say so myself," he said, his voice smooth as he stopped clapping. "I've yet to see anyone move as fluidly as you, and I admit I've seen my share."
She calmed herself a bit, trying not to panic in front of this stranger. It was hardly the word to use, considering that he was quite handsome - though his arms were encased in metal, oddly enough. 'Interesting,' she thought, not fully comprehending who was in front of her. "Greetings, sir, I am pleased that you find my dancing so worthy of praise. The residents of Havensword, however, do not."
"A shame," he replied, brushing a lock of hair from his dark eyes with a metallic claw. "This region is steeped heavily in the Iocus church, is it not?"
She sighed slightly, nodding. "Very much so, sadly. I wish it were not." She was being quite frank with a man she knew not, possibly risking her life saying such things about the dominant faith of the regions.
"Oh? Not a believer?" It seemed an innocent enough question, and his gaze seemed to be searching her, as though looking through her, perhaps looking into her soul.
She shook her head, consequences be damned for speaking her mind. "No, despite the fact my family has forced me into the church. Soon I will probably become one of the nuns and sent to some small hovel to etch out a rotting existence, devoid of everything from freedom to love."
The blond stranger folded his arms across his chest, tapping one finger idly. "I see, and it would be a shame. I know the faith disdains dancing so much, and you are so talented. And lovely."
She felt her cheeks flush at his words, and realized they had not even introduced each other. "Where are my manners? I am Morrina Galestrom, good sir."
"Morrina. a lovely name indeed," he replied. "One of the Galestroms, the black sheep of the family, perhaps. A child who disdains the world around her and yearns for freedom." He grinned, watching her expressions play out to his words, slightly amused. "A woman taken by dancing, and probably by the most famed dancer of the world, Mullenkamp. Am I wrong?"
"How? Who are you?"
"Sydney Losstarot, Miss Galestrom," he said, bowing. Not too far don the road past him she could make out two horses and a man watching them. But her eyes were immediately refocused upon the man before her, who rose with a slight grin on his lips. 'Sydney? This man?' "You look surprised," he continued. "Most are when they meet me. Would I be wrong to assume that you would wish to join those of Mullenkamp?"
Her heart skipped a beat, and had she not been so headstrong, she probably would have fainted then and there. 'A chance to leave this place - a chance to be a part of what I desire. A chance to be free. I would never have to see that man again, nor my family. Nothing, no one here to stop me. I would leave everything, but I have all I need. But. can I trust him? I - I have no choice, unless I wish to walk a road of bitter memories and what ifs of this day. I have nothing to lose that I would not lose eventually.'
She smiled, curtseying gracefully. "You are quite right, and I accept the invitation, Mr. Losstarot."
"Just Sydney," he said, raising one hand and waving off formalities. "There is little formality among the cult, so you may as well start now. I am sure some ill be surprised a woman of your status is among us, but I think you ill win their hearts over with your dancing, should you perform for us. Is there anything you wish to reclaim before we leave? I had no true intentions of remaining in Havensword itself - the cult is over one town and then some. It will be rough at times, as we're on the move currently, wandering, but I think you will manage."
"Nothing. I have nothing in this wretched ton that I wish to keep other than what I have. Is there clothing or materials available for clothing should I need to change?"
"You can sew?" he asked, turning and pointing towards the horses.
"Aye, Sydney, I can. My mother taught me, before I was condemned to the fate in the church," she replied a smile on her face that had not been there aside the times she danced alone.
Sydney nodded. "Good - you'll definitely be accepted, as we have very few gifted in those talents - t least with any skill. We have material, should you desire, and I will see you get it, Morrina. Is there anything else on your mind about this?"
She thought as they walked. "No - it is the chance for true freedom and fresh air, although I expect that my family will put a search for me."
"You'll be fine - no one really pays attention to us, and aside that, they cannot take you by force. They'll have the entire cult to deal with before that happens."
"But you don't-"
"I ill not see people taken forcefully from their decisions, and I will not have the cult threatened so," he said. "I care for every member of my following, I will not see them so ruthlessly torn from their desires. The Knights of the Cross occasionally have given members a hard time, but it should be fine. And I have something for you as well, two items. A beaded anklet I think that would suit you as a dancer, and a necklace."
She felt herself blushing further, pulling her shawl don around her face more. They were nearer the horses now, as she could barely make out the thing man standing there, tending them. "Sydney, really."
"Its my choice, Morrina dear. And if you wish to hide more, you may want to consider a new name." He glanced back at her, searching her face a moment and smiled. "You need not have to, but it is only a recommendation if they will send others after you."
She nodded. "I take it this is another member?"
"Aye," Sydney said and they stopped as the man looked her over. "Ah, dear Hardin, I'd like you to meet Miss Morrina Galestrom. She is now a member as well, and will be coming with us. Morrina, this is John Hardin, a man I know and trust implicitly."
Hardin nodded, bowing. "Greetings Morrina. Most call me Hardin, rather than John, but either is acceptable." He turned to Sydney. "How shall we manage this?"
"She will ride behind me, and we'll make for the camp once more. It seems Havensword would not welcome our ilk."
Hardin nodded, handing over the reigns to a dark-haired stallion to Sydney. The horse looked down at Morrina idly, unconcerned. Sydney mounted with fluid grace, settling into his position and then offering her a hand up. It took a little work, but she was soon mounted behind him. "You might want to hold on, as Thiern sometimes takes ff for a moment, and the road itself has many dips."
She nodded absently, carefully wrapping her arms around the man in front of her. In a matter of mere minutes she had gone from condemning her faith and dancing to suddenly seeming to have a dream realized and walking away from a life she cared not for. 'But at what price?' she wondered. 'And what more. what will he think?'
~-_-_-~
"What do you mean, she has not returned?"
His voice was cold as steel left out at midnight in the dead of winter. He turned, focusing hazel eyes equally as cold upon the man before him, who shrunk back.
"Sir, as I said, they've told me that Miss Galestrom has not returned since she left the church earlier this day. Those who saw her say they saw her head easterly along the main road through Havensword."
He considered this, pushing a lock of blond hair from his eyes. "Why is she not back? Has anyone bothered searching her house, or fates be worse, gone looking for her body or traces of a struggle?"
"She is not with her family, but there is no trace of either," the messenger said.
"Have some men search the area better, and check the nearby villages."
"Aye sir."
'Well, Trevor Shirewind, you've got yourself a situation,' he thought to himself. As captain of the small lot of the Cardinal's knights stationed out in this remote area, he was the one who had to sort these things out typically. He never dreamed that it would involve the woman he loved.
However, she did not love him back, and thus he had been setting more and more barricades in her path, dooming her to a fate of isolation if she would not accept his advances. So it was set son that she would be sent far away.
'Out of sight, out of mind,' he thought, taking a seat. 'She refused you, and you gave her a chance to escape that which she hated, but she refused. However, she will not just run off on me, if that is what she is trying.'
Trevor tapped his fingers on the desk. 'There must be a way she managed this, she would have run off much sooner if she had planned to do it alone. And all her stuff is here. Someone forced her, I know it. I will have their head.'
He fingered the hilt of his sword, pondering once more why she had refused him so. 'I offered her everything she desired, and all she had to do was accept my proposal. I know she has no love of the church, but I could have saved her. I will save her.'
Author's Note: Only recently did I get my hands upon the glory of this game, and love every minute of it. [Aside a few jumps. :D] I was not intending to write any fiction related to it; I did not see anything I could really work on. Not until I happened to have the merging thoughts of Sydney's pretty-open past, the time he had as leader of Mullenkamp, and a song that sparked something in my brain - plus a spot of dialogue in the game from Sydney to Samantha. BTW, I have the suspicion there shall be spoiler-y things in here - I can't seem to work without them somewhere, despite its placement.
Thus I took a hand at Vagrant Story. I'm pretty much pulling threads form near-nowhere and working up a past on Sydney and the cult before the events of "the Greylands incident". I might even go so far as to include the opening there. Who knows? I have vague ideas, so we're in this ride together, for better or worse on what exactly will come.
I make no promises about anything other than my own little spin on things before the game. Expect some name dropping to happen - I fully intend to explore all options. Well, shall we take a journey?
~-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-~
Chapter 01 // She Remembered
Sydney Losstarot was a man unlike any other. His name was whispered far and wide, and few could resist the lull of his voice or of what he spoke. Those who did were typically already rooted into another fate - and those of St. Iocus had a very bitter taste indeed from it.
All could resist but one woman, who had only embraced the faith because she had no escape. And at this point, she was almost going to become a preacher of the faith, and she resented it. She had no faith in the hallo hopes of Iocus, and would have rather died then be where she was. And as it was, she would find her release soon enough.
At the same point, not too far, a young man was coming to a crossroads in his on journey of faith, but his would be a twist of fate that would only bleed. But such bleeding was not for his faith - not the faith he held at this point.
The region was a fairly quiet one, letting its residents be born, live, and pass on in relative silence and obscurity from the world. Until the arrival of a charismatic blond who would turn their world upside down, leaving it less lively and taking a few souls along for a journey no one could have seen.
~-_-_-~
The small town of Havensword was peaceful, tranquil, and home to only a handful of people. On that autumn day, Morrina Galestrom was walking down the lane heading from ton, her head covered in a grey shawl and her black dress flowing about her slim figure in defiance of the Iocan faith. She cared not for what they thought of her habits, she enjoyed the clothing she wore, even if she was often chastised and punished for it. She cared not by this point; she only wanted freedom, and by her studies and listening, she had learned of a far greater person to worship.
Mullenkamp had indeed been interesting to learn about, discarding the bias of the priests who mentioned her name. She had been a dancer, which Morrina herself preferred to do - except that her family would not allow her to. She could dance with the best of anyone - if she had a chance to try. The Galestrom family was one of the important families of Havensword - and the surrounding areas - and it was considered improper for her to do something as "dirty" and "low" as dancing.
'Name be damned,' she thought sourly. 'I want to do as I please, not be some caged bird, forced to "sing" on command - or preach. I cannot fathom how anyone could love such a restrictive faith. one that does not let the person enjoy what they desire most.' She ran a hand through her long brown hair, and readjusted her shawl, her blue-grey eyes looking at the sky above for a moment.
She had also heard that a man named Sydney Losstarot led the cult that worshipped Mullenkamp. 'An interesting name,' she had thought. She could not get much on him, as no one would go on about him. Many said he was good-looking, and charismatic. Most detested him, but she daydreamed of this man who led a cult that seemed so much better then the trap she as caught in. She would never amount to much in the Iocan faith, as women never held any position of power. A lowly nun for life, devoid of love and other things. 'I do not desire such, even if it condemns me.'
She was far enough from town that no one would see her and she stepped off to the side of the road under the shade of a great ash tree, and spun into a dance on the soft grass, among the falling leaves. She danced a few minutes, reveling in the freedom, and as she slowed to a pause, heard something.
Something like the sound of metal hitting metal, but controlled and steady. much with the rhythm of clapping. She looked up quickly, worried she had been caught and saw someone who she did not recognize at all. "Magnificent, if I say so myself," he said, his voice smooth as he stopped clapping. "I've yet to see anyone move as fluidly as you, and I admit I've seen my share."
She calmed herself a bit, trying not to panic in front of this stranger. It was hardly the word to use, considering that he was quite handsome - though his arms were encased in metal, oddly enough. 'Interesting,' she thought, not fully comprehending who was in front of her. "Greetings, sir, I am pleased that you find my dancing so worthy of praise. The residents of Havensword, however, do not."
"A shame," he replied, brushing a lock of hair from his dark eyes with a metallic claw. "This region is steeped heavily in the Iocus church, is it not?"
She sighed slightly, nodding. "Very much so, sadly. I wish it were not." She was being quite frank with a man she knew not, possibly risking her life saying such things about the dominant faith of the regions.
"Oh? Not a believer?" It seemed an innocent enough question, and his gaze seemed to be searching her, as though looking through her, perhaps looking into her soul.
She shook her head, consequences be damned for speaking her mind. "No, despite the fact my family has forced me into the church. Soon I will probably become one of the nuns and sent to some small hovel to etch out a rotting existence, devoid of everything from freedom to love."
The blond stranger folded his arms across his chest, tapping one finger idly. "I see, and it would be a shame. I know the faith disdains dancing so much, and you are so talented. And lovely."
She felt her cheeks flush at his words, and realized they had not even introduced each other. "Where are my manners? I am Morrina Galestrom, good sir."
"Morrina. a lovely name indeed," he replied. "One of the Galestroms, the black sheep of the family, perhaps. A child who disdains the world around her and yearns for freedom." He grinned, watching her expressions play out to his words, slightly amused. "A woman taken by dancing, and probably by the most famed dancer of the world, Mullenkamp. Am I wrong?"
"How? Who are you?"
"Sydney Losstarot, Miss Galestrom," he said, bowing. Not too far don the road past him she could make out two horses and a man watching them. But her eyes were immediately refocused upon the man before her, who rose with a slight grin on his lips. 'Sydney? This man?' "You look surprised," he continued. "Most are when they meet me. Would I be wrong to assume that you would wish to join those of Mullenkamp?"
Her heart skipped a beat, and had she not been so headstrong, she probably would have fainted then and there. 'A chance to leave this place - a chance to be a part of what I desire. A chance to be free. I would never have to see that man again, nor my family. Nothing, no one here to stop me. I would leave everything, but I have all I need. But. can I trust him? I - I have no choice, unless I wish to walk a road of bitter memories and what ifs of this day. I have nothing to lose that I would not lose eventually.'
She smiled, curtseying gracefully. "You are quite right, and I accept the invitation, Mr. Losstarot."
"Just Sydney," he said, raising one hand and waving off formalities. "There is little formality among the cult, so you may as well start now. I am sure some ill be surprised a woman of your status is among us, but I think you ill win their hearts over with your dancing, should you perform for us. Is there anything you wish to reclaim before we leave? I had no true intentions of remaining in Havensword itself - the cult is over one town and then some. It will be rough at times, as we're on the move currently, wandering, but I think you will manage."
"Nothing. I have nothing in this wretched ton that I wish to keep other than what I have. Is there clothing or materials available for clothing should I need to change?"
"You can sew?" he asked, turning and pointing towards the horses.
"Aye, Sydney, I can. My mother taught me, before I was condemned to the fate in the church," she replied a smile on her face that had not been there aside the times she danced alone.
Sydney nodded. "Good - you'll definitely be accepted, as we have very few gifted in those talents - t least with any skill. We have material, should you desire, and I will see you get it, Morrina. Is there anything else on your mind about this?"
She thought as they walked. "No - it is the chance for true freedom and fresh air, although I expect that my family will put a search for me."
"You'll be fine - no one really pays attention to us, and aside that, they cannot take you by force. They'll have the entire cult to deal with before that happens."
"But you don't-"
"I ill not see people taken forcefully from their decisions, and I will not have the cult threatened so," he said. "I care for every member of my following, I will not see them so ruthlessly torn from their desires. The Knights of the Cross occasionally have given members a hard time, but it should be fine. And I have something for you as well, two items. A beaded anklet I think that would suit you as a dancer, and a necklace."
She felt herself blushing further, pulling her shawl don around her face more. They were nearer the horses now, as she could barely make out the thing man standing there, tending them. "Sydney, really."
"Its my choice, Morrina dear. And if you wish to hide more, you may want to consider a new name." He glanced back at her, searching her face a moment and smiled. "You need not have to, but it is only a recommendation if they will send others after you."
She nodded. "I take it this is another member?"
"Aye," Sydney said and they stopped as the man looked her over. "Ah, dear Hardin, I'd like you to meet Miss Morrina Galestrom. She is now a member as well, and will be coming with us. Morrina, this is John Hardin, a man I know and trust implicitly."
Hardin nodded, bowing. "Greetings Morrina. Most call me Hardin, rather than John, but either is acceptable." He turned to Sydney. "How shall we manage this?"
"She will ride behind me, and we'll make for the camp once more. It seems Havensword would not welcome our ilk."
Hardin nodded, handing over the reigns to a dark-haired stallion to Sydney. The horse looked down at Morrina idly, unconcerned. Sydney mounted with fluid grace, settling into his position and then offering her a hand up. It took a little work, but she was soon mounted behind him. "You might want to hold on, as Thiern sometimes takes ff for a moment, and the road itself has many dips."
She nodded absently, carefully wrapping her arms around the man in front of her. In a matter of mere minutes she had gone from condemning her faith and dancing to suddenly seeming to have a dream realized and walking away from a life she cared not for. 'But at what price?' she wondered. 'And what more. what will he think?'
~-_-_-~
"What do you mean, she has not returned?"
His voice was cold as steel left out at midnight in the dead of winter. He turned, focusing hazel eyes equally as cold upon the man before him, who shrunk back.
"Sir, as I said, they've told me that Miss Galestrom has not returned since she left the church earlier this day. Those who saw her say they saw her head easterly along the main road through Havensword."
He considered this, pushing a lock of blond hair from his eyes. "Why is she not back? Has anyone bothered searching her house, or fates be worse, gone looking for her body or traces of a struggle?"
"She is not with her family, but there is no trace of either," the messenger said.
"Have some men search the area better, and check the nearby villages."
"Aye sir."
'Well, Trevor Shirewind, you've got yourself a situation,' he thought to himself. As captain of the small lot of the Cardinal's knights stationed out in this remote area, he was the one who had to sort these things out typically. He never dreamed that it would involve the woman he loved.
However, she did not love him back, and thus he had been setting more and more barricades in her path, dooming her to a fate of isolation if she would not accept his advances. So it was set son that she would be sent far away.
'Out of sight, out of mind,' he thought, taking a seat. 'She refused you, and you gave her a chance to escape that which she hated, but she refused. However, she will not just run off on me, if that is what she is trying.'
Trevor tapped his fingers on the desk. 'There must be a way she managed this, she would have run off much sooner if she had planned to do it alone. And all her stuff is here. Someone forced her, I know it. I will have their head.'
He fingered the hilt of his sword, pondering once more why she had refused him so. 'I offered her everything she desired, and all she had to do was accept my proposal. I know she has no love of the church, but I could have saved her. I will save her.'