Cao - BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! (deep breath) I return.
Alex - With a sequel, no less! (mock surprise)
Cao - Whatever. I don't own ToA, Namco, or the newest additions to our tale, blah, blah. I'm not going to make this epic long...
oOoOoOo
Prologue
Short. Brown, messy hair falling just slightly past shoulder-length. Blood-red eyes with slits for pupils. And a black get-up clad with a sleeveless shirt, long slacks, and dress shoes, along with a cloak that effectively covered should it be attempted.
This was the average ware for one boy, and he was no ordinary boy. For starters, while he had his cloak on, he did not have the hood up as he wandered the dank halls of what he called the 'Hideout', thus revealing the two, furry cat ears placed on the top of his head. Real or not, he wouldn't let anyone touch them without permission.
Humming a soft tune, the boy came to a halt in front of a large door; one made of a dark oak and had probably seen better days. He looked up, noting the amount of spider webs laced along the walls and making a mental note to have someone come and clean it up.
Because he certainly wouldn't clean it.
The boy knocked on the door in front of him, pushing it open when he heard a muffled say-so. The neko boy took a seat at an old, dusty table, sitting on the closest old-fashioned, cushioned chair and examining the dim room. It was no surprise, really, seeing as the windows were so grimy that it was a miracle that anything actually survived in here. And yet, here he was, sitting at the table and glancing at the occupants.
Seven people, men and woman. The closest to him on the right was a woman, possibly nineteen at best. She was truly stunning, with her snow-white hair, crimson-coloured eyes, pale skin, and beautiful red dress. Her entire form just seemed to glow.
To his left, a boy, with neat, short black hair and a casual purple-linen shirt and jeans, clad with a black jacket and some bits of jewelry. He was closest to his age, probably.
Those were the two that were the most visible. Everyone else was just a big fat blur to him.
"Well?" a deep voice from sounded from the other end of the room. "What of General Grants?"
"He's not gonna help," the neko boy replied, stretching before he propped his feet up on the table and leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. This earned some disgruntled noises from the occupants in the room but he didn't pay much mind to it. "Says the Score's too damn addicting and needs to be gotten rid of. Doesn't care for the other Scions at all."
"This is outrageous!" another voice sounded out, angrier than the first. "Without our help, he never would have gotten to where he was today! And he has the impertinence to go against us?!"
"Calm down, Count Syst," interjected a third voice. "If Grants wants to abandon us, then so be it. We'll just have be to certain that he fails."
"But that would mean siding with our enemies!"
"We don't have to be direct. We can just slip in little hints from the shadows," the girl beside the neko boy spoke up, finally. "Isn't that Gaki's specialty?"
"True... "
"I'm okay with it!" the neko boy – identified as Gaki – spoke up, sitting up straight and perky in his chair. Then he smirked, his white fangs revealing themselves in the sadistic grin. "That is, if I could get some payment, of course?"
oOo
"Luuuke," a certain little blue cheagle whined, tugging on the shirt Luke fon Fabre wore. "Master and Tear are worried about you!"
The redheaded replica didn't respond, sitting on the steps outside in the garden of Tear's home. His arms were folded on his knees, chin resting on them and hair falling over his shoulders. He was definitely cleaner compared to the week ago, when he'd first arrived. His hair was washed up nicely so that the golden tips were actually visible again, and he was wearing a different change of clothes, consisting of a black, long-sleeved, gold-trimmed shirt and dark-gray slacks, topped off with those red shoes of his. It was temporary, for everything was currently being washed somewhere.
"Luuuuuuke!"
The little blue cheagle currently floating with the power of the Sorcerer's Ring moved to start tugging on the red strands of hair. If Luke had been anything but depressed, he surely would have tried to cause the creature harm. Then—
"Hey! Replica!"
Luke winced, his figure glowing gold as he tried to ignore the oncoming headache.
"I know you can hear me! Answer me!"
The replica grabbed his head, fisting his hair and gritting his teeth. He couldn't hear the obnoxious blue cheagle crying out to him, only focusing on trying to make the pain stop. "What... do you want?" he hissed through gritted teeth.
"I'm sending the others back to you. Van's planning on dropping St. Binah."
"He's what?!" Before Luke could get anymore answers, the headache stopped, the glow vanished, and the replica felt the tension of his body vanish. His eyes were wide and his body shook as he kept repeating, over and over, the information that was just given to him.
"Luke?"
He jumped when he heard the voice, quickly turning around to find Tear Grants, the tan-haired melodist and soldier who had thrown his life into chaos. At the sight of his expression, her brows furrowed.
"What's wrong?" she asked as the redhead stood up, seeming to recover from his previous shock.
"We have to go to St. Binah," Luke announced with determination. Tear looked mildly surprised, wondering just where the redhead could have come up with that line. Nevertheless, the emotion died down rather quickly.
"Alex is still recovering, but he should be well-enough to travel within the week. We can go to St. Binah—"
"No! We have to go now! Asch said it's gonna fall!"
Again, Tear looked surprised, eyes widening even more at the demand. But then, once more, the azure orbs narrowed as she addressed the redhead.
"What makes you say that? We haven't had any contact with the others."
"I… could hear him! He and I are connected!"
The melodist closed her eyes for a moment, thoughts running through her head before an inaudible sigh escaped her. She opened her mouth to speak again, her voice serious.
"Even if that were true," she began, looking at the replica closely, "what will you do? How do you plan to prevent St. Binah from falling?"
Luke faltered. "W-Well…" His gaze wouldn't meet hers as he stared at the ground. Azure eyes narrowed, piercing through the redhead.
"You don't understand a thing," she continued. "All of your actions are based off of what others say; you never try to figure things out for yourself."
Tear spun around, turned away from him as she took a few steps forward. She couldn't even look at him right now. Especially since—
"That's no different than how you acted at Akzeriuth."
She knew she'd hit home. It was obvious. First the mixed look of hurt and shock in his widened eyes, then a downcast expression with his hair covering his eyes, making it impossible to read his expression. Once again, Tear did not regret what she'd said, for it was the truth. Replica or not, he still held the weight of all those lives on his shoulders…
"You're… right…"
Tear watched as Luke looked up, similar to that of a puppy who'd just been kicked. A light chuckle escaped the redhead as he turned away, looking back at the flowers and avoiding the melodist's gaze. "'Master Van said so…' or 'Asch said so… ' That's all I say, huh? It's no wonder everyone got sick of me and left…"
Tear did not respond, simply closing her eyes and folding her arms, head turned away from Luke. There was a time to say things and there was a time not to. This was one of those latter times.
"Up until now, all I ever paid attention to was myself," the replica said, putting a hand to his head. "I don't even think I saw myself clearly, though." He ran the same hand on his head through his hair to the back of his head, looking up to the ceiling. "I want to — no, I have to change. For my sake and for everyone else's sake…"
"If you really want to change," Tear spoke, finally, looking to Luke now; no longer were her azure eyes cold, but they were not kind, either. "then perhaps you can."
The redhead finally looked to the tan-haired girl, who turned away fairly quickly.
"But even if you change, that won't bring back the people of Akzeriuth," she continued, letting her hands drop to her side as she took a step or two away from Luke. "It won't erase the fact that they all died. How do you plan to change with all that weight on your shoulders?"
She turned and faced him again, her gaze stern.
"I… don't know," Luke replied. Then, again, a light chuckle, though this time it was empty. "I'm pathetic if that's all I know how to say."
Silence.
"If apologizing made up for what I did to Akzeriuth, I'd apologize as much as I could. If I had to die in order to make up for it, then… I might be scared, but… I'd die…"
Tear opened her mouth to retort, but Luke held up a hand, silencing her.
"But that's not how it works, is it? I'd never be able to make up for it, no matter how much I tried. So I'll just have to start with what I can do." The redhead took his hand back, curling it into a weak fist, turning his gaze on it since it was getting awkward to keep looking at Tear. His expression looked mildly troubled. "I… I might not know what that is yet… but I am serious. I want to change."
The melodist frowned slightly. "I don't think you understand," she said. "Not really. Not while you talk about dying so easily."
"… I'm not asking you to trust me right away, just…" Luke's gaze turned downcast, eyes averting to the ground and arms dropping to his side. He really did want to change… he had to. It just wasn't a choice anymore. But how could he show her?
Some sort of breeze blew in the area, causing a strand or two of his hair to blow over his shoulder. His hair… he'd fought tooth and nail to keep the maids at the manor from cutting it. There was just some sort of odd pride in it, having it long and all.
That's it!
"Tear, you carry knives on you, right?" Luke asked, earning the mentioned girl's attention. She looked puzzled.
"Y-Yes… why?"
"Let me borrow one for a moment."
Still confused, Tear did what he asked, hesitantly taking one of her knives from its slot in the holder around her leg. She flipped it so that the blade pointed towards her and the handle to Luke. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though preparing himself for something, before he took the little blade in his gloved hand.
At first, he only looked at it, and Tear thought for a fleeting moment that he was going to hurt himself with it. But before she could even react, he turned away from her, using his other hand to grasp his hair, including the side bangs, in one grasp. Then he poised the dagger under the flaming red mass, eyes closed as he, once again, seemed to steel himself.
"Luke!" Tear called out, despite herself. She could tell what he was doing, but it was too late. With a swift move, the knife ripped through the hair, cutting off the long mass.
She could only watch as he brought the knife back to his side; as his now-short hair fell neatly into place, albeit a little jagged in placed; as the hand holding what used to be the long part of her hair came around in front in a firm grip. Luke smiled, finally turning his gaze on her again.
"With this," he said, holding the flaming red hair in hand, handing the knife back with the other, "I'll say goodbye… to who I used to be. I promise you, I will change. For better or for worse, you can decide. I'm not going to expect you to help me, and I won't be surprised if you give up on me."
Tear numbly took her knife back, her azure eyes never leaving Luke as she listened, nodding at the end of his little speech. Then she smiled, gaze softening. He then turned his gaze on the red hair in his hands, a small breeze blowing once again through the area. He slowly released his grip on the hair, which was quickly swept away by the wind. The strands danced away, an artificial current with sparkling green dust catching them and sending them up through the tiny gaps of the ceiling.
Curious, Luke and Tear looked towards the door leading back into the latter's home, finding a young boy with short, brilliant, blue hair, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. His figure was illuminated by the background light of the bedroom, a blue-green creature floating at eye-level with him, wearing a golden ring around its belly.
"It looks like they've made up, Master!" the creature announced in a high-pitched voice, looking towards the boy.
"Yeah. Sure does," the boy said, pushing away from the doorframe and taking a step or two forward. He was clad in a white, short-sleeved t-shirt with a loose-fit collar and gold trimming and a black slash design from his right shoulder to his left waist, accompanied by some Ancient Ispanian symbols that . His pants were black, a much better fit than the blue jeans that he had started off with. The tops of his black boots were covered by the pants, which were draped down to his ankles, but it was evident that they were strapped. On his hands were black, fingerless gloves. And, as always, there was that white cloak, looking as pristine white as ever.
"How long have you been there?" Luke asked, because judging from the look on Tear's face, she'd known all along.
"Long enough to watch you cut off your hair," the child said. He stepped up, the blue cheagle following in tow as he walked around Luke. "Hmm… It's short now. It's not gonna be as hard to clean and stuff." He stretched, smiling before he ran a couple steps in front of the two and spun around to face them. "Luke fon Fabre: Take 2, I assume? Time to show us what you're really made of, you spoiled noble."
"Oh, you're not getting away with that one," Luke said, a small spark of that old personality in him. Except this time, there was a slight playfulness to it, something that both the child and Tear noted.
"And what're you going to do about it?" the child taunted, smirking as he casually spun around, hands clasped behind his back and peeking over his shoulder. His answer was Luke effortlessly launching himself, the child yelping and dashing off as the chase began.
"Luke! Alex! Please!" Tear called, trying to get the boys' attention. But judging from the way they were playing, it was obvious she was unsuccessful. Sighing slightly, she couldn't help it when a small smile passed her lips.
Take two, huh?
oOo
"Jaren, did you hear?"
"Hm?"
"Fon Master Ion's supposedly come back. And that's not all; they say he's got Kimlasca's princess with him."
"Please. They were both in Akzeriuth. There's just no logical way they could have survived."
One huffed. One sighed. The two were in Daath's library. One was a man of roughly six feet, his short brown hair, practically back, pulled back in a ponytail and looking to be about three inches past shoulder-length should it ever be let down. His side bangs didn't seem to be getting in his way anytime soon, a white band around the longer part of his forelock that didn't seem to annoy him. He wore something of a typical priest outfit, similar to those of his colleagues in the Daath cathedral, minus the goofy-looking hat that he out-right refused to wear.
"Really, Cathraine, where do you get your stories from?" he asked.
"I tell you, it's true. I saw them with my own eyes," the man's companion said. She was a woman, three inches shorter than himself. Her short, white hair was tied back in a ponytail as well, looking to be about shoulder-length should it be let down. She wore tan, bell-bottom jeans and a low-cut cream bustier. Her knee-high, brown-leather boots added about an inch to her height, her hands in fingerless brown-leather gloves that were currently tying a braid in a loose strand of her white hair.
The two were sitting at a table, with the woman's – Cat's – mocha-coloured, three-quarter-sleeve jacket sitting in her lap, her white eyes gazing at the priest – Jaren – as she paused in braiding her hair.
"Shouldn't you be heading home?" Jaren asked, sighing faintly.
"And shouldn't you be working?" Cat asked, leaving that strand of her hair and waving to the stacked books on the table. "This aren't going to organize themselves, you know."
"I'm merely taking a break."
"Which started an hour ago… "
Sighing, Cat stood up, slinging her jacket over her shoulder before heading off in the direction. "I'm going to go see what's up. It's not every day you see two major officials from two countries get escorted by guards, you know."
oOoOoOo
BR/N: Yess! Finally! The sequel! Amazing, as usual. Now, any readers, review! Make Cao happier!
