Lost Pilgrimage

(Post-game events)

"Ohh, Elimine, how did I get put here? This barren place with absolutely no civilization in sight? No hot baths, no soft beds, no proper food...not even a semblance of food can be found!" A melodramatic sigh echoed around the small, fire-warmed cave.

A petite girl dressed in a clerics' white robes sat by the crackling flames. Scare-crow arms hugged a growling stomach; displeased navy-blue eyes glared at her shadow on the wall. Her shadow, as the cleric was alone.

On closer inspection, the white robes were crumbled and muddy around the hem. Dirt had accumulated on the soles of her threadbare cotton shoes, unsuited as they were for long treks. Her long pink hair, which once fell as two glossy waves of pigtails from her head, now hung listlessly in an unkempt disaster of kinks and curls.

"Oh Saint Elimine...why am I in this alone?" Serra murmured into her skirts. She frowned. "Where is Erky when you need him, honestly! After all my generously given company during our journey, you'd think he'd be here, at least out of gratitude! Well, they're probably tearing out their hair trying to find me back in Ostia. Especially Matthew, he was supposed to keep an eye on me! Hah! Lord Hector is going to skewer him for the dogs' dinner once he finds he has lost Ostia's best cleric!"

While this religious girl sat alone in the cave thinking unreligious thoughts, outside, not too far off, another under Elimine's wing was wandering.

The figure trudged up the precipitous cliff face, stepping carefully on the narrow pathway. A wisp of pale blonde hair struggled free from the shawl pulled tightly against the wind. The long strand of light danced with the breeze, until a slender hand gently grasped it and pulled it back into its restraint.

"Elimine...please, grant me your blessing. Please let that light be friend, not foe..."

A face the color of honeyed milk was revealed abruptly at the biting wind, facing the direction of the cave. Eyes that resembled the midday sky at its best squinted through the debris and dust clouding the area, seeking a clearer view of the person huddled beside the warm orange glow.

Uncertainly, still on the brink of turning and heading for the next village - wherever that might be -, the footsteps slid closer to the source of light. A Lightning tome was shifted out of its bag as the wielder took in an unsteady breath of air.

"Excuse me, might you be so kind to share your fire for tonight?"

Serra started at the sound of the quavering voice reached her. Leaping up, she hurriedly ran a hand through her pink tresses and again to smooth down her robes. Had to make herself at least slightly presentable for whoever had come walking all this way to collect her. Then again, my beauty shines no matter what I've been through!

Reassured that the person was not someone to be wary of by the softness of voice, she stepped out confidently, ready to welcome her rescuer.

"Oh, thank Elimine! You're a cleric aren't you?"

Serra's jaw dropped. Standing before her was a woman with the beauty of an angel. No doubt she, also, had traipsed through the bleak plains, judging from the streaked dirtiness of her robes and shawl. But, Serra noted with a twinge of jealousy, her golden hair was still perfectly straight and untangled, a polar opposite to her own.

She forced down a scowl and smiled affably at the Sister, all the while regarding her with a cold stare. "Yes, I am. And you are also a servant of Saint Elimine?"

The blonde-haired smiled back with a nod, moving gratefully to the fire. Serra followed, still regarding her like a hawk. An uncomfortable silence passed. The Sister finally broke it, coughing discreetly.

"Um...is something the matter, Sister...?"

"Serra."

"I am Lucius. Shall I call you Sister Serra, or do you have a title?"

"It doesn't really matter to me. After you leave, I'll probably forget all about you!"

"Oh, um...well..."

Serra narrowed her eyes and verbally pounced. "Now...what are you doing here? I'll have you know, I was just in the middle of my pilgrimage for Elimine. Unless you're doing a pilgrimage too, it shouldn't be proper for a young woman to be out alone...so, speak up! What. Are you. Doing here?"

The woman named Lucius coughed in what seemed to be embarrassment. "Uh, well...I'm actually...no, I..."

"Jeez, quit hesitating already! Just hurry up and spit it out! Just because you're pretty, not as much as myself of course, doesn't mean you get treated differently! People like you annoy me so much! You're probably the daughter of some rich duke, right? And you're taking up Sisterhood because you're not smart enough for other things?"

At each exclamation Serra inched closer to the woman as if to punctuate her statement. Soon they were almost nose to nose, Serra's fierce bright blues glaring into the other's paler counterpart.

"Um...no, I...but I'm not..."

"Hurry up!"

"I'm not...actually a Sister." Serra rolled her eyes and was about to retort, but the blonde hurriedly jumped in. "I'm not a Sister...I'm a Monk. So... so..."

Serra stopped and stared. Confusion flooded her face, changing her glower into a look of ashen shock.

"But...to be a Monk...don't you have to be..." her voice dropped to a whisper. "Well, a...guy?"

A small smile crept onto the smooth face, a spark of amusement flitted into those sapphire eyes as they considered her.

"Yes. Yes, you do."

&&&

A/N: Based on the Serra - Lucius support C. And yes, I realize Serra is being really snappy, but, well. That's just the way she is, right? Review if you think it has potential! Erm, please.

...By the way, does anyone know how old Lucius is?