Mist stared at her friend, the maybe twenty yards between the two felt like miles. As if it would take Mist a lifetime just to reach her. The wind picks up for a moment and it blows her friend's purple hair wildly. Mist can't help but think to herself how beautiful the scene looks, how beautiful Mia still is after all this time. It's not the first time she's thought this; in fact it's about the thousandth. Every morning is the same; at dawn as the sun rises; there her friend sits on the wall surrounding Greil's Retreat. Her head is tilted slightly and leaning against the pillar, her left leg is inverted in an upside down V-shape while the other lies flat, her arms are crossed, and those eyes stare at the pathway that leads into the woods. Somehow her eyes never seem to break from that spot. Never once has Mia turned around to see Mist staring at her in helpless agony. And today is the same, and today is different. Mist knew now that Mia loved her brother. How she never realized it before in all the time they spent together, in all those wars was beyond her, but she knew the day he left, the same day Mia sat in that same spot clutching his blade and his headband that she loved Ike. If there was ever a day that she should have gone to her to try and ease Mia's pain it was then, but she hesitated and the moment was lost. And now there was no way of reaching Mia. Her friend mind as well be in another country for how distant and isolated she seemed.
It was a horrible feeling that Mist felt. Horrible for not having been there for her friend, horrible for not understanding then, how she must have felt to know she was never going to see the man she loved ever again, and horrible that, for all the power she possessed; all her healing arts and her swordsmanship, she was powerless to do anything for Mia. In her youth she didn't understand, but she knew love herself now, and what seemed so mysterious to her before now seemed so much more real. Boyd had always been there for her, they had shared their lives together and he was the one that made Ike's departure bearable. There was no one there for Mia that day, there should have been, but there wasn't. And for all the wounds The Maiden of Blades had received in her life, that one was undoubtedly the worst.
'A shame,' Mist lamented to herself, 'that there is no staff to heal a broken heart.' And it was true; there was no magic that could heal Mia. All she could do was stand there in the distance and try her best to feel her friend's pain. To stand there and gaze at the same sunset in the impossible dream that Ike would someday return and take away everything Mia was surely feeling. It was a childish thing to hope for; she knew that, Ike was gone. A part of her hated her brother for what he'd done, but then another part wondered if Mia would not agonize more over never having truly "known" him. Her heart aches again. It aches at the thought of never being able to see Boyd again, and for a moment she understands her friend just a little bit. So she continues to stare in the hopes that one day maybe she'll figure out how to help her friend, or that one day Mia will turn to see her, and tell Mist how.
She can barely catch her breath and her own arms seem to resist her every inclination. She promises herself a moment, just a few seconds reprieve to try and breathe without the impossible sensation of feeling as though your lungs are going to burst with every gasp. But she won't allow herself more than that; there isn't enough time in life to be taking too long of breaks, and so with all the strength she can muster, she blows her long blue hair out of her face and lifts the blade once more. She raises it high above her head and brings it down in a perfect diagonal motion, then horizontally, then vertically straight up, but here the weight over comes her and as she brings the blade to the highest point her arms will take it, she stumbles backwards. It's not too awful of a mistake, but enough for her to silently condemn herself.
"Still too damn heavy," she says aloud to herself, "why won't it do what I want it too?"
To the child's defense, the blade is massive, and conversely, she is quite petite, but she fails to accept this fact, or perhaps fails to realize it and instead wills herself to lift it once more and battles through her fatigue to practice her slashes again and again.
"Commander." the boy says, snapping Mist back to reality. She turns her gaze away from the forlorn sight of Mia and towards her new companion. He is a plain boy, though very well built, with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes, he's young too, just nineteen she would guess. She feels another sudden pang of remorse that for all the time the boy has stayed with them, they still have to guess at his age. "Such a painful sight." He says gesturing towards Mia.
"Quite," Mia replies in saddened tone. His words are sincere, Mist knows this, Mia was the one who taught him almost everything after all, but she also knows that he probably understands about as much as Mist did when she was his age, which was not a lot. "It's sixteen years today." She says, taking one last look at her wartime friend. Seeing that he is too lost and conflicted to try for words, Mist quickly changes the subject.
"Hello, Allen." She regards him with a genuine smile that truly makes him feel welcome at the humble retreat, "I didn't expect to see you back so soon. You could've slept in a little bit you know?"
"Perhaps," he says in return with just a bit of laughter, "but I was anxious to get back home."
The simple gesture of calling the fort home fills Mist with immense happiness. They brought Allen here when he was no more than three or four, it was right that he call it home, and doing so meant that maybe he was finally starting to feel a part of everything.
"Well, we're happy to have you back. Everything went well, I presume?" she asks as she walks away, but slows for a moment to gesture for him to follow. He does so; Allen was good at following orders, (probably the only Greil Mercenary who had any talent for such).
"It did, Commander." He begins, "You were correct in suspecting bandit interference. They attacked as soon as nightfall hit. There was no real damage other than a few broken structures."
Mist takes a moment to study him as they walk. "And no injures on your end I take it then?" she finally asks before the two finally enter a small dining room. Her young friend always had a bit of a habit for hiding injuries to his person. Admirable perhaps, but stupid just as well. It was hardly any trouble for herself or Rhys to heal Allen.
"No, Commander. There were only four of them, and very unskilled. I was able to defeat them with relative ease." He sits down at a table of her choosing as she steps behind a counter and begins to prepare something for him.
"And were you offered payment?" she asks.
"I was," he replies with the start of a slight smile, "of which I promptly and adamantly refused. Ray sends his greetings and gratitude, by the way."
"Very good." She says to him with a laugh, "You did well, Allen. Now eat up, you've probably got a little while until everyone gets back, or in Boyd's case wakes up."
"As you say, Commander." He finishes.
Mist, however, stops at the door before leaving him as if contemplating whether or not to say anything until finally, "And Allen,"
"Yes?" he asks, somewhat surprised.
"I'm going to send out Leila on her first assignment soon, I'd like you to go with her when that happens, so just stay in shouting distance."
He elects only to nod at her silently. She accepts and finally leaves him to himself as he eats the small meal prepared for him.
None could deny Leila Alondite. The sword was, for all intents and purposes, hers by birthright, but that did not stop her friends from disapproving of her using it. The blade was powerful, among the most powerful in existence, but beyond that it was far too heavy for someone of her age and size to wield. She possessed all her mother's gifts for swordsmanship; she was as swift as the wind, and struck like lightning, but a blade of such massive size was a hindrance to such talents rather than a benefit. "The smallest mistakes in actual battles could kill you", they would say. "Then I'll have to make no mistakes." Was always her reply. She was young, and as young people often believe, she was certain that there was no possible way she could ever be wrong.
Most people would think she was just stubborn, too prideful for her own good, but Leila wasn't an idiot, in fact she was every bit the opposite. The girl was a genius with a sword. And it was because she was a genius that she knew being a genius would never be enough. Forced to face the frustration of knowing every day that she was nowhere near the talents of her comrades was difficult enough, so she worked three times as hard as anyone else to perfect every aspect of her abilities, but knew that in her heart, to accomplish her goals, she would need a blade that could match the abilities she hoped to achieve. And her goals where vast, in fact some would say impossible because her ambition, was in the purist and simplest form, Ike, a man that even time seemed unable to defeat.