Disclaimer: Same old, same old
Dreams
He fought and fought and fought.
Blood pooled at his feet. Bodies fell before him: neck slit by his blade, spine broken by his claws, head caved in by his boots, face melted off by his guns. The scent of blood, of fire, of sizzling flesh and rotting skins tickled, no, assaulted his nose, mockingly, tauntingly, angrily.
You caused this, it said.
I sure as hell know it, he wanted to reply.
He never did so. His body continued to walk, to fight, to kill. Relentlessly. Unstoppably. Coldly.
Mechanically.
He never resisted. He had stopped after the first two months.
(He never dreamed in those time. Sleep was a luxury he didn't have. Closer and closer to insanity edged his mind. Or maybe he had gone mad without knowing it. That would explain the girl in green always staying at the periphery of his vision.
He wondered if he had known her before. He always felt sad when seeing her.
He also wondered if all of this was a dream and he was still dreaming.)
The sword in his hand was his only crutch. Without it, he was sure he would collapse and break completely.
Once, twice, thrice he swung it. Once, twice, thrice he expected a body to fall over and die, blood spurting out from the wounds on them.
It never happened, and he almost cried in happiness.
"What happened, Commander? I heard something falling."
He realized his hand was empty.
"Nothing. Just a slip."
"If you say so, Sir."
He picked up the sword and clutched onto it. The footstep outside grew smaller and disappeared.
(He had severe insomnia in the first month. The moment he closed his eyes, he was surrounded by bodies and flame and then he was seeing the ceiling, sweat dripping uncontrollably down his forehead and back.
He thanked the El he never screamed.
And then there were other times. When instead of warzones, he was lying on his back. There was no flame and the moon was tranquil as it peeked down between the tree leaves.
Somehow, this scene frightened him more than the usual battlefield. Like he was remembering something he should never have.
He looked down.
A glimpse of blond, bloodstained hair-
And he was awake, the woman in green again stayed at the edge of his vision.)
The moment he saw her, it felt like he had finally woken up from an endless dream.
He wished he hadn't.
"Are you okay, Raven? You seems paler than usual."
He smiled at the golden-haired girl sitting next to him. The smile was utterly fake.
"There's nothing to worry about."
Just as fake as his words.
Barely concealing his malice for her, who reminded him of what he had lost.
He regretted joining the El Search Party.
He regretted ever remembering.
But most of all, he regretted meeting the elven warrior called Rena.
(The woman in green -Seris- never returned to the edge of his vision.
She began to haunt him in his dreams.
Again and again she appeared, everytime just as dead as the last. Blank, unseeing eyes stained with tears, a smile that held no joy -the dead didn't need it- and a sword through her stomach.
Her hand was always reaching out for him.
At least she wasn't there all the time.
There were times that he looked down, from the moonlit night and saw not his dead fiancee, but the elven warrior in her place. Those times were the worst. She was barely any different anyway, with face mirroring Seris, the only distinguish difference was her long ears and outfit, but fuck he was pissed. That nosy elf had no place in his past, so why the hell was she there, looking at him with lifeless green eyes?
His time under the Nasod King took up the rest. He was almost relieved by it, but the scent of iron and decomposing corpses was far too vivid and he woke up with bile in his throat instead.
Oh, and he was drowning under sleeping pills now. At least he had some sleep, so that was a plus.
...Maybe?)
The moment he saw Eve, there was one thought in his mind.
He wanted her. He wanted all of her. From her silver hair, her golden eyes that looked like a reflection of his, her lithe frame, the El shard on her forehead. He wanted all of her to himself.
So that he could break her. Piece by piece. Make her expressionless face warp in utter fear and despair. Until she functioned no more. He remembered stories about a man having all of his fingers and toes broken off one by one. He wondered if it worked on Nasods.
The Nasod King died too fast for him to try.
And when she offered him a handshake, dainty fingers pointed in his direction, he almost lost it and tested it out.
"I'm Raven, nice to meet you."
He didn't hear a word she said. All of his concentration was spent trying to restrain his anger for this abomination in human shape.
(That night, he dreamed of Eve. She was lying in front of him, completely defenseless and vulnerable. Her right arm was cuffed to the wall, and she shook, her frightened expression far too humane.
All of her other limbs were crushed into pieces. Cords and wires spilled out like entrails from where they used to connect to her frame.
He could feel a grin on his face as he picked up a sledge hammer. He wasn't sure if it was the dream or he himself was smiling.
He didn't have much time to think about that.
The hammer descended, and Eve's scream echoed through the small basement. It was irritating to his ears, so he forced a bottle down her throat. It did wonder in muffling her scream and it wasn't like she could choke on it. For a split moment, he was curious about Nasod's voice system. But the moment passed and he continued with far too much vigor.
And the next day, he woke up completely refreshed for the first time in five years. He was confused whether to feel disgust or relief.
But, no matter what he thought, that dream would follow him for a long time, just like the two before did.)
She recognized him, the girl with firelit hair. Not as Raven the Blade Master, but as Raven the traitor of Velder, and also the one responsible for the Velder Massacre five years prior.
How ironic that she remembered what he always wanted to forget.
She confronted him. At night, on an empty, moonlit street. No one walked outside anymore since the demons' attack. It worked to both of their favors. Even though he always talked about redemption bullshit, Raven could never bear the weight of others' scorn.
What a coward he was.
He had followed her through twists and turns, their footsteps the only sound he could hear. But even then, he had been scared that somewhere, somehow, prying eyes were watching them. That all of his sins would be exposed, and all that would be left for him would be hatred and righteous anger.
He needn't have worried.
The first punch he almost didn't see coming. But despite that, Raven could easily avoid it. More than a year spent honing his reflex and fighting demons allowed him to do so.
His vision spun as knuckles met jaw.
The next he could see through wavering vision. According to his calculation, it would soon land at his cheek if he didn't avoid it.
So it did.
In the end, it was just a beatdown. Punches and kicks and jabs were thrown at him rapidly, viciously, relentlessly. There were little exchange between them, and she drove in the fact that he was better off dead. And then the beating would didn't resist.
But once did he take action.
Even through he was barely coherent at that point, his blade slid out of its seath and locked her claymore in place, his body overwhelmed with pain as the sudden motion aggravated his wounds.
"You don't want to become a killer."
His words came out mangled, with hasty gasps mixed between syllables, but it carried the point across.
Her expression barely changed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the anger clouding them gone, replaced by disgust? Fear? Confusion? before she discarded him as she would a piece of trash. Vision blurring, blade slipping from his fingers, he landed painfully on his ass, his back slamming against a wall.
And then he knew no more.
(This time, he again dreamt of the battlefield. Soldiers in steel armors and crimson pauldrons mounted their charge against him, and was cut down for their effort. The sky was sickly red, scent of blood and burnt flesh again permeated the area.
That he was familiar with.
But something was different. No, everything was the same but in a different perspective.
Weaving between bodies, blade held in a relaxed but cautious grip, face set in a grim expression, a man came at him. Raven didn't remember that man. He didn't want to remember anything.
But, he couldn't look away from the soon-to-be-dead soldier.
His hair was red. Brilliantly so.
And everything began to make sense. He wished it hadn't.
Dear Ishmael he was fucked.
By the way, he paid a visit to Eve after he woke up, still on the street. It was a miracle he didn't catch a cold.
She welcomed him inside and patched his wounds. As much as he wanted to avoid the Ice Bitch, at least she kept things to herself.
Maybe that was why he answered her inquiry about his broken ribs.
"Someone asked me this-" -Elesis had asked him that- " 'How can you sleep at night after all the atrocities you have done?' "
He remembered laughing despite the bitter taste in his mouth.
"A sleeping pill a day keeps insomnia away.")
Elesis bore down on him with cold anger, training blade swung in short, swift arcs. It was near impossible considering the size of her claymore but she did it anyway.
None of the slashes touched him as he evaded or parried them, feet and hands in constant motion lest he be hit.
Clash blades. Let claymore slide along his saber. Lock it in place with handguard. Hilt thrust. Elesis leapt backward. Follow with upper slash.
She had seen him teaching her brother. He had wondered what she would do.
He didn't expect her to request a spar, but he indulged her anyway. Her reasons were hers, and he honestly didn't give a fuck at his current state. His mind was stressed out as it was, and he really needed something to take his mind off it.
And so here they were, dancing the only dance they had ever known. Well that was the case for him at least. He wasn't going to assume the same applied to his opponent.
Backstep. Sword barely missed chest. Close distance. She wouldn't have range to swing. Change to reverse grip. Hilt thrust. Blocked by claymore's flat side. Recoil. Have to retreat.
Maybe he was just that fucked up in the beginning. Maybe he had gone mad and didn't realize it. Maybe it was the headaches getting to his nerve.
Ishmael above, Elesis was far too fucking beautiful.
He was in a daze. His body was on autopilot, parried strike and evaded slash as they came.
His eyes remained locked on her frame.
It was wrong but he couldn't stop.
His keen eyes picked up far too many details. The way her chest rose and fell slightly with each labored but controlled breath. Beads of sweat running down her neck. Slightly damp combat dress clung to her figure.
As if being obsessed with the Ice Bitch wasn't enough. Sometimes he wondered why wasn't he talking with a psychiatrist.
Oh right, no psychiatrist in Velder. Only asylums.
Fucking hell.
He couldn't be more glad when Rena came to inform them of lunch time, and he just bolted, not before offering a hasty apologize to the girls though, and locked himself inside his room for the rest of the day.
(He dreamed of their spar.
Blade clashed and blows were exchanged. Raven watched even as his dream self fought against Elesis. Every action, every gesture was the same as reality down to the smallest detail.
There was one, almost imperceptible difference. He almost missed it and would have remained ignorance had he did.
Her eyes. It was not anger nor coldness which was shown through them. Instead it was acceptance and sympathy.
He understood now. He was a hypocrite who couldn't trust anyone and yet expected people to understand him.
He woke up with a bitter taste in his throat. Like biting a pill not meant to be bitten.
He stayed awake for the next two days.)
Chung and Ara joined the El Search Party in Velder. One for his city, the other for her brother.
Both of their innocent expressions were fake. He should know, having been living a lie for more than a year.
He didn't really care. They were tolerable and that was enough. As long as they didn't hinder the team, he had no objections. He wasn't responsible for them anyway. Prying would just make him the same as the damn nosy elf.
Still, he hated them. They reminded him too much of himself. His conversations with them were always short, swift and to the point. He always talked just enough to be seen as polite and then slipped back to his room, not a single word from either
registered in his mind.
(He began to have dreamless sleep. The burdens on his mind was somewhat lifted, if only temporarily. He found himself smiling more often with his vigor returned.
He could now pretend he was fine for a bit longer.
Still, things weren't all that smooth. Those dreams about Elesis, Eve and Rena made him avoid them, and though he could hide it thanks to the hectic times in Velder, but now, with the Red Knights sharing their workload and left him with much more free time, he couldn't hide his actions and so had to directly deal with them far more than he was comfortable with.
Nonetheless, it was an improvement compared to the mess that he was after the Nasod King.
Raven couldn't help but be worried.
Things went far too smoothly. He felt like it was the calm before the storm.
He feared what could happen when it hit.)
Raven was pretty sure what the man in front of them was talking about was important. Ran he called himself, Aren Ara called him, and he was the leader of the demons plaguing Hamel.
Raven just couldn't give a fuck.
Ignoring Ara's attempt at invoking humanity inside the man, Chung's dark look and the cautious but concerned gazes the El Search Party gave the siblings, the Blade Master simply bolted past them all, sword half-drawn. He gave the dark-skinned male no chance to react before he was upon him with a flurry of slashes.
Stop...
Normally he would have felt at least an ounce of respect for an opponent who could match his skill with the sword, in this case Ran. But he didn't. Instead, despite his strikes being parried and deflected one by one, he still continued his assault single-mindedly, each attack more desperate than the last.
Stop looking at me...
A blast of dark magic erupted from the magic circle before his face. Ran himself had conjured it after again parrying a particularly vicious strike. Even though the worst of the blast was blocked by his claws, the concussive force still sent Raven flying backward like a ragdog. Readjusting his posture, he landed on his feet, eyes never left his opponent, a twisted snarl on his face.
His legs coiled-
Stop looking at me with those eyes-
"Raven!"
Slender but far too strong arms wrapped around his chest -Rena- and breasts pressed against his back. Normally he would have felt either slightly flustered, for being in such close contact with a girl, or, more likely, really annoyed since it reminded him of how Seris would do the same and enjoy the sight of his embarrassment. At least before they...became intimate.
He was in too deep a frenzy to feel either.
"HANDS OFF RENA!"
He could have easily escaped her grip. The move played itself in his mind. An elbow thrust to the stomach. Grab arm. Flip. But he didn't. He struggled, twisted his body, tried to lunge forward, but never did anything that could harm her.
But had he been able to see his expression at that moment, he would have called it a mad one.
Raven didn't care about Elsword and Chung and Ara engaging Ran, nor did he care about Eve who also attempted to keep him in place. Even Elesis' gaze, which would normally evoke guilt in him, was barely registered in his mind and discarded like trash not worthy of his attention.
Only when Aisha locked the space around him did his struggle stop.
And even then, there was but one thing in his mind.
Those eyes.
Those dead eyes.
Dead eyes that mirrored his every time he had seen them reflected off the weapons of those he had slain.
It never got better until Ara had deflected Chung's homing shell and Ran had teleported away. And only the Iron Paladin's howl had woken him from his trance.
His throat was hoarse. He realized he had been screaming.
"Raven-"
He began to leave as soon as the binding spell was removed. His ears were deaf and his vision blurry. Rena's hand was swatted away and her words were ignored.
Elesis grabbed his collar. Her eyes shone with cold anger. He almost lashed out and broke her arm. Instead, he twisted her hand just enough to remove it, never stopping in his stride.
His face was flat the entire time. Except for his messy hair, no trace of his frenzy remained.
No one stopped him this time.
And only when he had reached his chamber, away from all those prying and 'sympathetic' gazes outside, and had locked the door did his mask fall and he himself crumbled.
(He woke up far more exhausted than before he fell asleep. His mind was a jumbled mess and for the life of his he couldn't recall what he had dreamed of, only that bits and pieces of it, and even then, they were indistinct and blurry like a smudged collection. He couldn't even recall when he had slept.
He never left his room for the next two days. He couldn't stand the face they would show him. Like concern, for example.
Thank Ishmael each room came with a small bathroom.
He ignored the voices. He buried his head under pillows to drown them out. Elsword asking him for spars. Rena announcing lunchtime. Ara asking out of worry. He replied to Ara only with curt words. Even though he didn't want to talk, he could at least respect the girl for her honesty.
Maybe others did try to call him to but he was asleep most of the time. Waking up felt terrible so he slept instead. Even those dreams that haunted him made him feel relief.
At times he considered using more than one pill of sleeping drug. But he thought better of it and swallowed the pill on his hand before washing it down with water.
At one point in the third day, he woke up to Eve's golden eyes. She was tending to him. His eyes glanced at the door. It was still locked.
"I picked the lock and relocked it. No one else will come in."
She answered his unasked question and continued to wipe his forehead with a wet towel.
He would have wrung her neck if he could, but his body held no strength. He hadn't eaten a bite since that day. So though he hated it, he lied still and let her continue.
"We're going to move to Sander in a few days." -she informed him, voice monotous as always- "The six Priestess need to be united to deal with the threat of demons. We'll be meeting the Wind Priestess there."
He opened his mouth, found no words, and closed it.
"Will you come with us?"
He didn't answer.
She handed him a cup of water.
"You are dehydrated."
He blinked at her words, but nonetheless grabbed the cup, muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a 'thank you' and gulped down the cold liquid.
"See you at lunch."
With a bow, Eve left. Her two drones followed her. He was glad they were gone. They had been beeping the entire time.
"Fucking Ice Bitch."
He muttered after she was gone. But his expression didn't match his words. It was the closest thing to relief he could feel at the moment.
He pushed his tired body out of bed. A splash of cold water did wonder in stimulating his lethargic brain. A cold bath even more so.
He paused at the door to his room. His hand lingered on the knob. It was cold. He hesitated.
'Fuck this.' -he whispered to himself and twisted the knob.
There was a high chance he might regret this. Just like how he had regretted ever remembering about Seris. But fuck that. He was no dainty flower to be protected.
A push. One step.
And he was in the hallway again.
He felt far too liberated for doing such a simple action.
And apparently, as he found out in the next months in Sander, Eve dreams were the first to go.)
AN: To be honest, I was planning to finish and upload this by Sunday, but I got stuck here, so this is the result. The rest will be written later either as another chapter or added to the first. Also no update for the other works because I'm lazy asf.
First thing first, this serves as a shorter version of MONSTER, since I'm not sure if I can finish the aforemention story. I'm a lazy ass. Still, for some reason, I tried to write BM x GrM and ended up with far more Eve hints than Elesis'. Well, considering their current stance, it's understandable but still...
For me, Raven/Elesis relationship is quite interesting. Half because of certain roleplays, half because it's more unique compares to Raven/Rena prominent in canon and most fanworks. Not that I have a problem, I just want something new I suppose.
By the way, you may notice that the Raven I portray has a few screw loose...I hope. I'm aiming to show a half-mad and vulnerable Raven who tried to hide his weakness under a mask of indifference. IMO he's the most scarred in the El Search Party, barring Add and possibly Eve before her hibernation. I'm not sure if I have done that properly. A feedback would be nice.
Also, a timeline for the fic since I've changed things a bit from canon:
10 years prior to canon: Mock siege, Raven, Seris and Alex met.
7 years prior: Black Crow was born.
5 years prior: Raven and Seris engagement. Alex's betrayal. Seris died. Raven was retrieved by the Nasod.
3 years prior: Nasod attacked Velder. Elkashu Sieghart was killed by Raven. Elesis left Ruben.
Canon, Altera arc: Raven was freed from the Nasod control. Retrieved El fragment. Eve woke up.
Between Altera and Feita arc: Raven secluded himself to train.
The rest follows canon...for now. I might have ideas to change the story flow later.
With all that said, have a nice day!