Title: Season's Veil (01/??)
Rating: PG (eventually PG-13)
Author: Windsong
Written: 20 December 2005 (last updated March 2010)
Word Count: 2,198
Genre: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Unnecessarily cliché villains
Summary: A chain of events draws a group of adventurers into the middle of an ancient war, where the line between good and evil becomes blurred. The mysterious Veil seems to be the Key to their survival; but what is it, and can they save it before it's too late?
Disclaimer: Ragnarok Online belongs to Gravity; all the characters are mine.
Author's Notes: I was trying to avoid writing an RO fic, but this idea would not leave me alone, and finally I succumbed. Sob. I do mention levels in this fic, but since this is supposed to be a "real world," here's how it works: when a person gets their first job class, they receive (along with their new outfit) an official badge stating their Levels. This badge is bespelled, monitoring each person's ability and rewriting/updating itself accordingly.
The clock tower chimed, a hollow, melancholy, familiar sound as she lay quietly on the floor, feeling exhaustion sift through her bones to settle on the stone tile below her. Idly, she noticed that a sharp, rusted piece of a gear dug into her left arm. She felt empty, weightless, yet curiously content; there were things unfinished, and things desired, but she supposed it was too late for it now.
A tiny part of her mind willed herself to stand, to fight; her blurry vision revealed in quick, curious moments the vague shapes of monsters standing above her. Abominations, her mind hissed—they must be eradicated! But as insistent as the voice was, she couldn't find the energy to push herself up; it was just too hard to try. The bell continued its unceasing toll somewhere far above her as her eyes closed...
"Heal!"
And in a rush she felt the bone-chilling exhaustion scatter as strength filled her. Surging to her feet, her hands scrambled for her blade, picking it up in both hands as she swung it wildly, clearing a space around her. Wild, determined eyes took in the scene; Alarms and Ridewords shifted nervously around her, unsure of how to deal with her sudden revival.
"Storm Gust!" another voice commanded, and the monsters around her disappeared in a sea of white, icy spikes forming on the granite tile around her. Instinctively she crouched, fighting to retain her balance on the suddenly slippery floor.
"Get back!" she commanded, lunging for the first monster she saw when the blizzard lifted. "Bash!" she screamed over and over as she felt herself flying into a berserker rage, ripping through the monsters around her and leaving tattered papers and shattered splinters of wood in her wake. To her right she saw an Alarm stagger back, bluish lightning arcing across its smoking wooden panels before she turned away.
As she ripped through the final Rideword, she skidded to a stop in a low crouch, chest heaving. Behind her, she heard the muffled, scattered thump of pages, covers, and broken teeth drifting to the floor. She swayed slightly, turning her head just a little to hear a light quick step hurrying towards her, quickly followed by a set of heavier ones. Two pairs of arms grabbed and held her before she could sink to the floor. Opening bleary eyes, she was suddenly flooded with a sense of deep recognition; she jumped with surprise before she could stop herself, almost blacking out from the movement. "You..." She managed in a confused whisper, locking gazes with the—Priestess, her mind supplied automatically, She bears the cross.
"Didn't she say something?" the priestess said.
"She's exhausted," a deeper voice replied from behind the warrior. "We should get her somewhere safe, away from here."
"Yes, but—why would a Crusader be in the Clock Tower?" The priestess said, biting her lip with worry.
"We can ask her later, but right now we have to—watch!" The Crusader felt herself slipping from their grasp before she was quickly caught again. "She needs better care than we can give her here. Let's go."
A final nod, and the Priestess stepped back, her hands clenched at her sides as she stared off fixedly into space. Suddenly clasping her hands together as if in prayer, her eyes drifted shut. "Warp Portal!" A circle of bluish-white light appeared some distance away from her. "Hurry, before it closes," she urged, rushing back to her companion to help him lift the Crusader. Despite her frail looks, the priestess was surprisingly strong. As they went through the portal, the Crusader's eyes rolled back in her head, letting the welcome blackness finally take her.
---
"I think we deserve a few answers, at least," she heard a voice she recognized—the deeper one—mutter close by.
"So soon? Even though I used my powers and my potions, she still needs time to heal. We don't want to stress the girl any more than she already—she's awake," The priestess said abruptly, moving towards the invalid to put a cool hand on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Not asking too many questions?" her companion asked, the irony lying heavily in his voice. The priestess made an exasperated noise before turning back to the crusader, evidently waiting for a reply.
How could she tell I was awake? I had n't even opened my eyes. She tried to move, but a lance of pain shot through her head and she let out a faint moan.
"Shh! You're still healing. You got a nasty concussion during your battles, among other things."
The crusader opened her mouth to speak, coughed (and winced as another jolt of pain arced between her temples), and then tried again in a whisper. "Water'd be a welcome sight..."
Gently, she felt herself being raised up on pillows, and tea was brought to her lips. Once her throat was soothed, she asked, "Where...am I?"
"In our tent just outside of Al De Baran," the deeper voice said. "We've set up camp here for a while. My name is Lierne; the priestess is named Archana. You are?"
She opened her eyes, finally, seeing her saviors for the first time. "Belliace Sommerdale," she murmured thoughtlessly. "Thank ye kindly, lord and lady; I would've died had ye not been comin' along right then."
"Are you from Payon?" Archana's sweet voice cut in; looking over, she saw the girl was young for a priest, with plain short brown hair held back by a kitty band and dark hazel eyes. She laughed a little, waving a hand. "Oh, I'm sorry; accents are just a hobby of mine."
"Ye've a sharp ear, Lady," Belliace said, reaching for the tea again; Archana quickly gave it to her with another murmured apology, and after another drink, Belliace continued. "'Twas born and raised to Payon's East, but I'm there no longer, I'fear. And where be ye good people from?"
"I'm from Izlude," Archana said, smiling. "Lierne—" she gestured to her companion, who now Belliace saw was a Wizard, with messy dark brown, almost black hair and serious brown eyes—"Is from Geffen. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
"N'chanted," the Crusader replied before coughing again.
When the coughing stopped, the wizard asked, "Belliace, why were you in the Clock Tower? Surely you're smart enough to know that place is not for you, especially a low-Level Crusader like yourself." His words were sharp, but his tone held no malice, only solemn curiosity. His eyes took in the shadow that moved over her face and left behind sullen anger, and he spoke again before she could retort. "It seems you do not wish to speak of it. No matter; maybe in time you will come to trust us. For now, rest and recover, Belliace. It was a pleasure meeting you." Standing bowed in the tiny tent, he quickly moved outside.
"Time is what we all have," Archana murmured before she laid her hands over Belliace's, her face crossed with worry as she leaned in close. "Don't mind him," she said, "He doesn't mean to be harsh; he's just very focused on what he wants." She laughed a little, the self-deprecating tone just audible. "We had a few more hours of training ahead of us, but our plans changed when we found you."
"Where's he rushin' off to?"
"It's the first snow of the year—what?" Archana asked, seeing the stunned look on Belliace's face.
"It be the wintry season?"
"Why, of course...didn't you know that?"
Belliace started to shake her head before wincing again. "No, m'lady—I've been in th' Tower for...only th' Lord knows, sing ye his praises. Mayap since summer, I'd warrant."
"Summer?! How did you—I mean—what did you eat?!"
"Beggin' food off of travel-bys in trade for tankin' or coin," she muttered. "Well, mostly." Her eyes shifted away from the other girl, looking down, and she tugged half-heartedly at her hand in an attempt to remove it from the Priestess's grip; Archana started and removed her hands, folding them back in her lap.
"Why, Lady Sommerdale?" Archana whispered.
The Crusader let out a barking laugh before wincing again, leaning back against the pillows. "Call me not 'Lady;' nor 'Sommerdale;'" neither I be harkin' to. Belliace, if it pleases ye to call me by anythin'."
"Belliace, then. And please, call me Acha; most call me that anyway. But...you will not tell me why you were in the Tower?"
Belliace's eyes closed. "No," she said with hoarse finality.
She felt the bed shift as Archana got up. "All right, Belliace. Maybe you'll tell us one day."
"'One day?'" Belliace's eyes flew open again. "What mean ye? We be partin' ways once I heal, and rightly so? Less'n you be wantin' payback for the healin' and care."
"You don't have to leave if you don't want to," the Priestess said with a warm smile. "I enjoy the company, and Lierne does too, although he'll never admit it. Besides, it'll be a while still until you are better; you're not only suffering from a concussion, you know." Lifting a hand, she began to tick her patient's maladies off on her fingers. "A bone-bruised rib, several deep bruises and cuts, as well as weeks of malnutrition and general exhaustion—I'm surprised you were even able to take that last battle. You had—have—no reserves left, Miss Somm—Belliace."
"Berserker rage's made a body do things more uncanny than that," she replied dryly.
Archana's laugh had an undercurrent of nervousness as she shifted, awkwardly smoothing out a bedroll. "I've heard about berserker rage, but never seen it first-hand...until yesterday."
"How long since last I opened m'eyes, then?"
"About...a day or so. Maybe a bit more."
"And that all after yer tending! Heavens above, you saved my life."
The priestess blushed, ducking her head. "It's nothing, really—I would have done the same for anyone else."
---
Lierne looked grimly out across the snow-covered landscape; usually he would have taken a meditative pleasure in it, but today his mental serenity was disturbed by questions. Slowly, he reached up a hand to gently massage away a headache. Sommerdale...I swear I've heard that name before. But why?
You're going to catch your death out here, you know," a familiar voice called out from behind him, making him turn, startled.
"I didn't hear you coming," he muttered.
Archana replied with a gentle smile before she continued. "So how is it?"
"How is what?"
"The snow. Life. Your undying curiosity."
He coughed. "You ask far too general questions."
"You worry about her, don't you," Archana's voice was closer now as she delicately picked her way through the ever-deepening snow.
"I don't worry about her," he huffed impatiently, crossing his arms. "I worry about you."
"Me, Lierne? But she's the one with the—"
"I know her symptoms," he interrupted. "Don't say them all again."
She finally drew even with him, and gently rested a hand on his arm. "Well, then?"
He let out a disgruntled grumble, but aside from that offered no answer, looking out over the snow-covered landscape. "You pry too much."
She chuckled, but agreeably changed the subject. "How's the weather looking?"
He glanced up at the falling snow with a practiced eye. "It'll snow for at least tonight; perhaps all day tomorrow, well into the evening. We should be prepared to stay here for a while...unless you plan on moving The Invalid through all this snow?"
"No, nothing like that." Archana squinted upwards at the falling snow. "When I left, she was awake, but drowsy. The tea seems to be agreeing with her, and by the time we get back she'll be asleep, I bet. Do we have enough food for all three of us? From the way she looks, she's going to be eating a lot."
"Trust a warrior to eat us out of house and home," Lierne muttered; at Archana's muffled "Lierne..." he sighed. "I wasn't serious. I think we have enough. We'll manage."
"We always do," Archana finished softly, resting her head tentatively on his shoulder. Lierne looked down at the young Priestess, and smiled softly in a gentle expression few of his acquaintances would have believed could grace the aloof Wizard's face.
---
"Have you found any news yet?"
"No, my lord. The elements h-have been silent."
"Well, look harder, then."
"Y-yes, my lord. I will do my best, my lord."
"I didn't ask for your best." The powerful Lord Knight gripped the cringing girl's jaw, pulling her upwards as he stared ruthlessly into her terrified eyes. "I asked for results. Get them."
The Sage squeaked before she was released and dropped bonelessly to the floor. "I—I will find it, my lord!"
He nodded with a humorless smile. "You are dismissed." As the girl was picked up by the guards that flanked her and dragged out the large double doors, he got up to pace about the room, clenching a gauntleted fist.
The Key's a tricky thing, for certain sure. "A plague upon mages," he growled. "Useful only when they're up to mischief!"
So far it has evaded me...but mage-born though may be, I will have it eventually. A dark grin spread over his face. The gods themselves have willed it.
Until next chapter!
-Windsong
"I'm gonna brandish you until there's nothing left!" -Guild Chat
