Note From Le Author: Allo!!! CrazyCross speaking!!! This is my first TotA fanfic, and instead of using the main characters (like a normal person) I have to make up my own characters! This all takes place in the world of TotA, and a few of the characters even make an appearance! Please enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of its characters or places, but most things spoken about in this fanfiction were either created by me or are my view of the places in TotA. Please do not use any of my characters in anything else without my permission! Thank you for reading!
In the country of Malkuth, everything was not well. Miasma covered all the land in a purple haze, and people were dying left and right. Most know of Luke fon Fabre and his friends, and how they saved the world from an evil villain. But most don't know the tale of Mirha and Shatter. This is their story, and it starts out with great tragedy. This all take place in a town called St. Binah.
Mirha leaned back from where she was washing her family's clothes. She wiped her brow and sighed, "Where's the next load, Ma?" she called into the house. When there was no answer, she wiped her hands on her apron and trudged into the house, "Ma?" she asked. When she got closer to the front of the house she could hear her mother...sobbing? Then she heard her father's voice, comforting her mother. She rushed to the open front door just in time to hear her mother cry, "What will we tell Mirha?!"
"Tell me what?" Mirha asked anxiously, glancing from her mother's tear-stained face to her father's sorrowful one. "What has happened?"
Her father rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground while answering her, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, honey, but...something terrible's happened." Swallowing nervously, he traded glances with her mother. He looked back to Mirha. She was shocked to see tears welling in his eyes.
"What is it, Papa?" she asked, clutching the cross dangling from her necklace. "What's wrong?!"
Without warning, her father wrapped her in a big hug, "I'm sorry, my girl," he whispered next to her ear, "They found Jesse outside the smithy this morning...dead..."
She pulled away from her father, her eyes wide. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her lips started to tremble, "Wh-what?!" she finally said, turning to her mother, "You can't be serious! I saw him just this morning!"
Her father wouldn't look at her, "He was just...lying on the ground. Nobody knows what happened, but other people have been dying the same way. It all started happening when that Score reader came a week ago. Ronny died the very next day..." he continued mumbling to himself, trying not to notice that his daughter's eyes had gone blank and unseeing. Jesse had been her betrothed; they were going to be getting married in another two weeks.
Dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve, Mirha's mother put an arm around her daughter's shoulders and led her into the house. Mirha followed like a zombie, going wherever her mother led her without paying any attention to where she was going. She didn't resist when her mother pushed her onto a chair at the kitchen table. She started bustling around the kitchen, putting water on to boil. Mirha slowly looked up, and she could almost hear her neck creaking like an old woman's.
"What...are you doing?" she asked softly, not even recognizing her own voice. It sounded like it was coming from far in the distance.
"Making tea," her mother replied, still crying quietly. "We're going to go over to the Silvers' place to see...to see Jesse... but I won't have you going out in the cold without something warm to drink. It's so...cold outside," she shuddered, as if she felt the cold winter wind, but somehow Mirha knew that wasn't it. She numbly accepted the hot mug of tea when her mother handed it to her. She didn't know that tears were slowly trailing down her cheeks.
The next day, Mirha stood with Jesse's family as they buried him. As the funeral drew to a close, Jesse's father and Mirha's father stood off to the side of the mourners and talked in low voices. Mirha, who had wandered off to be by herself, overheard them.
"What are we going to do about the house Je...he built?" Jesse's dad asked, unable to say his son's name.
Mirha's father sighed, running his hand through his short hair, "I guess we'll just have to leave it for now. I mean, what could we do with it? We can't tear it down."
"I'll stay there."
Mirha's father jumped guiltily, turning to Mirha, "Mirha, honey..."
She blinked, her expression still blank, devoid of emotion, "I'll live in the house."
The two fathers looked at each other, coming to the same decision. Jesse's dad turned to her, his eyes bright with unshed tears, "Jesse would have wanted you to have it," he told her, his voice rough.
She nodded and turned to head back to her parents house. She walked slowly and stiffly, like an elderly person who had bad joints. Her father and almost father-in-law watched worriedly until she was out of sight. They sighed in unison, both hoping she would be alright.
Mirha was blind and deaf to everyone who said a kind hello to her as she trudged through the town. She even ignored her mother as she walked through the house. She went straight to her room and started gathering up her things, the things that she knew she shouldn't leave behind. Even if, right now, she didn't give a damn.
She didn't hear her mother come in, didn't hear her talking to her. Finally, with a very sorrowful sigh, her mother gave up, going back to her kitchen. Mirha finished packing up and trudged back through the house and out the door, not hearing her mother's cries. Her feet carried her past the blacksmith's shop, but she firmly kept her gaze away from the shop where Jesse used to work. She passed so many places with fond memories that hurt to think of. There was the herbal shop where a young Jesse had dared and even younger Mirha to try some of old Anna's herbal concoctions. She'd had a stomach ache for a week, and Jesse had come to visit her instead of going out to play with the other boys. That was when she had first fallen for him.
Mirha stopped in the middle of the street, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears from escaping. People looked at her with pity, sympathy, annoyance. With a firm shake of her head she continued on, walking with her shoulders slumped and her head down. Before long, she spotted the little house that Jesse had built for her--for them. He had built it on the outskirts of the town sot they could have some privacy, and also because Mirha had liked the trees out here. She paused at the front door and trailed her hand along the smooth stone he had used to make the walls. It had taken him months to build the house, even with the help of his brothers. It was fully furnished, but small and cozy. She entered the house and stood staring at the things they had made together, or picked out together. She allowed the tears to spill over. Here she was safe from pitying eyes. She didn't want their pity, their sympathy. She just wanted to be left alone.
After unpacking the things she had brought from home, she changed into her nightclothes and curled up in the middle of the bed, the bed that was too large for one person. It was a long time before she got to sleep, and when she slept, she dreamed.
"Mirha!!! The soldiers are in the square!!!"
Mirha looked up from her sewing to see a fifteen year old Jesse, his slightly spiky black hair even more messy than usual. His tanned face was flushed with having run all the way there from his house, or maybe the town square. His deep brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Mirha smiled, "That's nice, Jesse," she said calmly, knowing it would annoy him. He was so cute when he was annoyed.
He frowned and snorted, "C'mon, Mirha!! You said you wanted to come see the soldiers when they got back!!! They're only going to be here today and tomorrow!!!"
She set down her sewing and ran one hand through her odd, silver-white hair to smooth it. She sighed, pretending reluctance, "If you really want me to, Jesse," she sighed, getting to her feet.
Jesse peered at her, his brow furrowed. He spotted the teasing gleam in her bright silver eyes and laughed, "You're just messing with me, as always!" he grinned.
She blinked at him, her expression innocent, "Who, me?"
She froze when Jesse leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, blushing madly. The pink lit up her pale skin, showing up very well. Jesse smiled at her and took her hand, "Come on, Mirha. Maybe one of them will let you see his sword."
Her eyes lit up, "Really?" Jesse knew how much she liked swords and knives.
"Really!" he told her, dragging her out of her house and down the street towards the town square. The square was crowded with soldiers stopping for supplies. Very few were injured, and the old herbalist Anna was seeing to them. Jesse led Mirha towards a group of soldiers sitting under a tree, finishing up a meal. They looked up as the two teenagers reached them.
One, an older red-haired man with a thick red beard, lifted his cup to them, "Hello, youngsters! What can we do for you?" he asked.
"Hi!" Jesse greeted them cheerfully, "We were just curious, and wanted to talk to you."
One of the others, a young man with blonde hair, patted the ground beside him, looking mainly at Mirha, "Have a seat!"
Mirha ignored Jesse's frown, her eyes zeroing in on the sword on the ground next to the man, "Is that your sword?" she asked, excited.
He grinned, "Indeed it is, miss. Would you like to see it?"
She nodded, settling easily on the ground beside him. He handed her the sword still in its sheath. She felt the weight of it, flashing a grin at Jesse as he sat on the ground next to her. She studied the clean leather sheath and the large hilt. With almost reverent awe, she pulled the sword from its sheath, admiring its sheen in the sunlight. To test its sharpness, she plucked one gleaming silver hair from her head and let it fall against the blade. The hair split neatly after barely even touching the blade. She looked up at the soldier.
"This is a fine blade," she told him, though he probably already knew that. He beamed at her.
"I see you like swords," he started, but was cut off as the door to the field marshall's house opened and the field marshall himself walked out with a man dressed as a high-ranking Malkuth soldier.
Jesse stared up at him, "It's Colonel Jade Curtiss," he whispered in awe.
Mirha glanced over at the colonel. He had long, red-brown hair, maroon colored eyes and he wore glasses. She smirked, "He's handsome," she stated, knowing it would make Jesse jealous. Sure enough, his head whipped around to glare at her. She giggled, not knowing she had caught the attention of the colonel. She only noticed him when he stopped next to her.
"I don't believe you are in the Malkuth army," he murmured. He glanced at the sword Mirha still held, "Though you do have a sword. Hmm... I suppose you could join if you wanted to."
Mirha shook her head, eyes wide, "Sorry, sir, but I don't think I'm old enough. I just like swords, is all."
He nodded, smiling slightly, "That's all right, I suppose. What about you, boy?" he asked, turning to Jesse. Jesse looked torn, his hero-worship struggling with his jealousy. Jealousy won out, just as Mirha had known it would.
"No," he growled, reaching over to take the sword from Mirha. He slid it back into its sheath and handed it to its owner. Grabbing Mirha's hand, he pulled them both to their feet, "I wouldn't make a very good soldier, and I wouldn't leave Mirha behind. Good day, Colonel," he dragged a grinning Mirha away from the town square.
"Goodbye! Thank you for letting me see your sword!" she called over her shoulder, "It was very nice to meet you!"
She allowed Jesse to drag her a little longer before digging in her heels and resisting, "We're far enough, Jesse. You don't have to drag me any farther."
He sent her a sheepish look over his shoulder, "Sorry," he mumbled.
She patted his cheek, "It's fine. Maybe I shouldn't tease you so much, but you just make it too much fun!" she grinned at his shocked expression.
He schooled his expression into a slight frown, "For normally being so serious, you sure do like to tease a lot."
She strode past him to hide her smile, "Don't pout," she told him. "I'll share the pie I helped Mother bake with you this morning if you'll stop pouting."
He brightened immediately, "Really? Pie? What flavor?" Strangely, his words were almost drowned out by the barking of a dog.
"Blueberry," she answered, but the dog sounded louder.
Mirha's eyes opened. She was laying in her bed in the house Jesse had built for her. It had all been a dream. A dream of a memory.
Jesse was dead.
Mirha closed her eyes again, still unable to believe it. Then she realized something--the dog was still barking. She sat up and listened. It sounded very close to her house. With a sigh, she got out of bed and peeked out the window. It was too dark to see anything. She grabbed her sword from where she had set it the day before and unsheathed it. She also grabbed a few of her throwing knives, just in case. She lit a torch so she could see where she was going. Fully armed and with light to see by, she stalked silently outside.
She heard a loud snarl and spotted the source. It was a liger, a monster that was part tiger, part lion, and all mean. They were a rarity around here. They normally didn't wander far from Cheagle Woods. This one had left, though, and had apparently decided to attack a dog in front of her house. Mirha could see the dog now, his fur so matted with blood that she could no longer tell the color. The dog was fighting for its life, and appeared to be losing.
Without thinking, Mirha threw one of her knives with deadly accuracy. It struck the liger in its eye, embedding itself up to the hilt. The liger roared with pain, turning on her. She frowned. That knife had surely gone into the liger's brain, and should have killed it instantly. With a mental shrug, she lunged forward, her sword like quicksilver in her hand. Jesse had made the sword for her, just as he had made the knives. He had given them to her for her sixteenth birthday. They had come in very useful over the years, first when the bandits had attacked St. Binah, and again when Kimlascan soldiers had stormed the town. It served her well now as she sliced the liger's throat, being careful to keep out of the reach of those deadly claws. The liger swiped at her once more before collapsing. She waited to make sure it was dead before turning to the dog. It lay in an unmoving heap a few feet away.
Out of habit, she cleaned her sword on the grass and retrieved her knife. All of her attention was focused on whether the dog was breathing or not. She was sure she could see the faint rise and fall of its flank. She rushed back to the house and replaced her throwing knives. She strapped on her sword after re-sheathing it and sprinted back outside. She knelt next to the dog and tried to lift it as carefully as she could. The dog was unconscious, so it didn't seem to notice. Mirha ran as smoothly as she could manage into town and straight to the herbalist's shop.
"Is she going to be okay?" Mirha asked for the twentieth time, pausing in her pacing. Anna looked up from where she was finishing bandaging the dog, who had turned out to be female.
Anna smiled, her wrinkled face amused, "She's going to be fine, dear. Now stop pacing or you'll have to pay to fix the ditch you wear in my floor."
Mirha wandered a little closer to the dog. She brushed her fingers over an uninjured patch of rose-colored fur, "Her fur is so pretty..." she murmured and smiled as the dog's tail gave a small wag. "You're sure you haven't seen her around town before?" she asked Anna.
The old woman shook her head, shuffling over to her shelves of herbal supplies, "I would've noticed such a pretty little thing," she looked at the dog, "Well, not so little, I suppose. However did you carry her here all by yourself, Mirha?"
Mirha shrugged, "What else could I have done? I couldn't just leave her to die."
Anna peered at her, "Are you going to keep her, then?"
Mirha sighed, "I suppose I should. It is a little lonely at the house..." she shook her head wearily and looked at the dog, "What should I name her?" she aksed.
The old herbalist cackled, "That's for you to decide on your own, dearie!"
She sighed again, "Fine." She looked down at the dog, thinking, "Rose..." she murmured after a while, "I'll call her Rose," she said a little more firmly.
"A good name," Anna agreed, "Now, here are some herbs you'll need to put on her injuries, and here are fresh bandages..." Anna went on to hand her a bag full of herbs and cloth for bandages. She gave her instructions on how to apply the herbs and medicines before sending her on her way, the dog in her arms. It was past dawn now, and everyone in St. Binah was starting to wake up. They stared at her as she walked back to her house. She made a brief stop in at the butcher's shop.
The owner looked up from where he was sharpening several of his knives, "What can I do for you, Mirha?" he asked gently, that ever-hated sympathy in his eyes.
"There's a dead liger at my house. Can you dispose of it for me?" she asked, emotionless yet again. She shifted the dog in her arms, waiting for the butcher to stop gaping at her and agree to her request. He finally stuttered out a reply.
"A l-liger, you say?!" he stuttered, "Um, sure, I'll just.... yeah..." he shook his head, a slight smile on his face.
"Thanks," she said before turning to leave. She started down the street, but was stopped by a familiar shout from behind her.
"Mirha!!"
She turned around to see an achingly familiar face--familiar, but not the same. It was Jesse's younger brother, a young man named Singe. He looked very similar to Jesse, with his dark hair, tan skin, and brown eyes, but his hair wasn't black like Jesse's. Instead, it was a very deep brown. His face was similar, but she could see where his face differed from Jesse's. Her eyes travelled over his face anyways. Singe had always been more serious than Jesse, but more playful than Mirha. He had a good head on his shoulders, she remembered, but she hadn't spent much time with him. All her free time had been with Jesse.
"Hey, Singe," she greeted him with a weak smile. "How are you doing?" she shifted Rose again, trying to find an easier way to hold her.
Singe smiled at her, but looked worried when he saw Rose, "What happened?" he asked, immediately reaching out to take Rose, "I'll hold her. You look tired," he gave a sad, lopsided smile, "I guess we all are, huh?" his eyes gentled as he looked down at Rose, "Are you heading back to your house?"
She frowned down at her clothes, which were covered in blood--Rose's and the liger's, "I need to get Rose settled, and I need to change my clothes, but I don't think I'll hang around the house for too long. There's nothing to do there."
He started walking and she followed, "None of that blood's yours, is it?" he asked worriedly. She smiled and shook her head. He sighed in relief, "That's good. You had me worried for a little bit."
"I'm sorry," she sighed, "I seem to be making a lot of people worry.... Tell me, how are...my parents?" she peeked up at him, feeling guilty for how she had treated her parents over the past few days.
"I was just over at their house, and they told me to say hello to you if I saw you," he grinned, "And what do you know? I turn the corner and you're coming out of the butcher's shop!"
Mirha laughed, and she saw Rose's ears perk up. She blushed when she saw Singe smiling softly at her, "What?" she asked, feeling self-conscious.
He smiled wider, "It's wonderful to hear you laugh again."
She blushed harder, "I'm sorry for making everyone worry. I'll try to be my old self again, but it'll take some time..." she sighed, tilting her head back to stare at the sky.
She heard a soft noise from Singe and turned her head to peer curiously at him. His mouth was open, as if he had wanted to say something, but couldn't. He started to blush when he noticed her staring at him. He ducked his head and walked a little faster, "Nevermind," he said, "Oh, look. We're here. I'll help you get Rose comfortable, and then I'll leave you alone," he opened the front door and let himself in, "Where do you want to put her?" he asked, pausing at the door to her room.
With a mental shrug, she followed him, "On my bed's fine, thanks." She helped him arrange the dog on the blankets, "Thanks for helping, Singe," she told him, smiling. "It's been fun talking to you, too," she leaned down to stroke Rose's fur, "You'll be safe with me, girl," she told the dog softly. She looked back up at Singe and was confused by the look on his face. Without warning, he leaned down and wrapped her in his arms. Her eyes widened, and she gasped. Just as quickly, he released her. His face was bright red as he turned and just about sprinted out the door.
"Bye, Mirha!" he called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. She stood staring after him for a few moments, but looked down when she felt something warm and wet on her tongue. Rose's bright green eyes gleamed up at her, her tail wagging gently.
Mirha smiled, "Welcome to your new home, Rose."
End Note From Le Author: Did you like it??? Did it make you want to read more???? I hope it did!!! I will be typing feverishly until I have the next chapter (maybe!)! If you liked it, R-E-V-I-E-W-!-!-! Teehee! CRAZYCROSS OUT!!!!! *uses a smoke bomb and runs away in the confusion*