Searching for Somebody to Love:
A Sylphiel-centric Story
Standard Disclaimer: Slayers is not mine. This story, and any Original Characters that come of it, however, are. But you may use them if you ask nicely ^_^
Rating: PG for now. But really, that's only because it starts in (tame, unthreatening) bar. And considering what this story is going to be about (mush with a
pinch of drama and angst), and what PG stuff contains, I don't think it's going to go up. It may even go down.
One last thing- if you really don't like Sylphiel, then why are you reading this?!
Chapter One: Friends in Strange Places
It was a cool, clear summer night in the White Magic Capital city of Seyruun. The streets had long since emptied of most traffic as the midnight hour
approached, but one place still abounded with some (though less than usual) noise in the otherwise quiet evening.
The Widow's Tavern was rather typical in appearance for a bar, if perhaps a bit nicer than most. It consisted mainly of a large wood-paneled room with a row
of stools pressed up to a long counter and a variety of different sized tables to accommodate parties of almost any size. A short hallway off the back of the
main room led to the men's and ladies' wash rooms.
The main room's great size was exaggerated by its emptiness on this particular night. The tavern was usually very popular and noisy, but tonight a veil of
silence seemed to hang over the few patrons it entertained. One in particular, a slender, violet haired girl sitting on a stool in front of the bar, had not said a
word since entering.
"What can I get you, Miss?" The barmaid asked, reaching up to push a few strands of her short, dark red hair out of her half-lidded green eyes as she finally
made her way over to the girl.
"Just water would be fine, thank you," the girl answered softly, her aqua eyes downcast.
The barmaid raised an eyebrow but filled a mug of water and set it on the counter. Something about that voice was familiar. "You sure you don't want
anything stronger? You kind of look like you could use it." She studied her patron. The girl was wearing a long cloak, but peeking out from under it was a
lovely cerulean blue dress, much too fancy for the average night out. Tears glistened from the girl's half hidden eyes. There was a story there. Cursing her
curiosity, she sighed. "It's not any of my business, but . . ." she cast a glance around the bar, noting that all of the other patrons were being well-taken care of by
the three on-duty serving girls " . . . if you want to talk about it . . . we're obviously not busy enough for a story to interfere with anything. And you remind me a
lot of a friend of mine . . ."
"I do?" The girl said, finally looking up, her face now plainly visible in the dim lighting.
The barmaid's eyes bugged out. "Great Ceiphied, you are her, aren't you?!"
"What?" The girl looked startled at the energy suddenly bursting from the previously tired-looking barmaid.
"Sylphiel Nels Rada of Sairaag!" The barmaid exclaimed.
The girl's forehead wrinkled slightly with confusion. "Yes, I am, but how did you- "
The barmaid didn't wait for Syphiel to finish. "It's me, Cecilia! We used to have the same tutor when we were young. Gods, I haven't seen you in- what has it
been?- seven years at least!"
"Cecilia . . ." Sylphiel repeated, concentrating hard on the memories of Sairaag that she had partially blocked out in the years following its destruction.
"Cecilia . . . vol Amanae? Ceci-chan?" She stared at the barmaid, a light dawning in her eyes as she recalled her friendship with the girl who stood before her.
"Goodness, Ceci-chan, it's been so very long!" She stood up impulsively and hugged the other girl over the counter, drawing some curious gazes from the other
patrons.
The girls pulled away, looking each other up and down. "You've changed," they said simultaneously, which caused them each to let out a small giggle.
"Now I just have to hear why you look so down tonight," Cecilia said, resting her elbows on the counter space in front of her long lost friend.
"Tonight? Oh . . ." Sylphiel's face immediately clouded. The joy at finding someone from her former life had almost made her forget why she, an ex-shrine
maiden, was sitting at a bar in Seyruun in the first place. Almost. But not quite. "How about some other time? . . . I'm not sure if I'm quite ready to talk about
it . . ."
"Oh. All right, then. Where are you staying in this fair city?" Cecilia asked, leaning back from the counter with a good-natured smile on her face.
"Staying? Oh . . . um . . . I don't really know . . ." Sylphiel admitted, turning away from her friend's steady, lazy-eyed gaze.
There is definitely something wrong here, Cecilia thought. This was so unlike the optimistic and well-organized Sylphiel she had known. Was it the
destruction of Sairaag three years ago that had changed her? She had seemed very surprised to see someone she knew . . . or was it something else? "That's not
like you, Sylph. Seyruun may be the White Magic Capital, but that doesn't mean it's safe for pretty girls like us at night." She paused, considering. "You can
stay at my place tonight, if you like."
"Oh, no, I couldn't impose on you like that," Sylphiel replied quickly. "I'll find some place to stay . . ."
"Nonsense." Cecilia crossed her arms. This more like the Sylphiel she knew, never wanting to 'impose.' "It's much too late to be looking for an inn. And any
and all those without a place to stay are welcomed to Auntie Victolia's house. That's the place I live, by the way."
"Auntie . . . Victolia's?" Sylphiel replied, a note of question in her voice.
"Yep. Auntie Victolia's Home for the Homeless, that's what she calls it. Originally it was sort of a halfway house for young women who were trying to get
their lives back on track and couldn't afford a house to live in. It still is, but Toli- Auntie Victolia, that is- welcomes anybody who needs a place to stay. It'd be
nearly impossible to impose on her anyway," Cecilia added, giving a snort. "Since most of us don't have the money to pay for food and housing, she accepts her
payment in hard labor." Cecilia noticed the worried look on Sylphiel's face. "Oh, but don't worry about that. Every task she gives is specific to the worker. She
won't make you do anything you can't handle. You still like cooking, right?" Sylphiel nodded slightly. "Then that's what you'll probably get to do, if it's all
right with you. The last girl who did most of the cooking just got married a few weeks ago, and since then we've had to eat Lucinda's horrible meals. Even I
can cook bet- Sylphiel, what's wrong?"
Sylphiel shook her head, biting firmly on her lower lip and blinking rapidly to keep the tears from flowing from her watering eyes. Married . . . the word
echoed over and over in her mind. I'm happy for them, really, I am. Happy for them, just not happy for myself . . . When the tears had finally left her eyes she
looked up to see Cecilia studying her closely, her eyes now wide-open. "I'm fine, really."
"Mmm-hmm." Her friend's tone held a heavy note of sarcasm, but, to Sylphiel's great relief, she decided not to pursue the matter. Instead, Cecilia's eyes drifted
to a small group that had just entered and was approaching the opposite end of the bar. "I get off work in about twenty minutes. You just sit tight until then."
She winked at her friend, her eyelids lowering halfway once more, and went off to catch the orders of the new customers.
Sylphiel sighed and stared into the still full mug of water before her. It was nice that she had a friend and a place to stay in this rather unfamiliar city, but she
knew that eventually Cecilia would pry into the things that Sylphiel just didn't want to deal with yet. She knew she could get over it; this could hardly be
considered worse then the destruction of Sairaag, the deaths of so many people, specifically her beloved father. That had been the real death of her old self.
And yet. . . Now there was a certain finality to it that had not been there before. As if awakening from a dream- It was really over. That last wish from her old
life, the last unrequited hope . . . it really would never come true. She had told herself when the announcement came that she had gotten over it long ago. She
had . . . but only partially. She had never really moved forward. Now it was time to.
I'm happy for them, really, I am. Happy for them, just not happy for myself . . .
A/N: So, what did you think? Slow beginning, I know. Things will (hopefully) pick up soon. It may be a while before any romance comes, though, as Sylphiel's future loverboy isn't even fully realized yet in my head. But bear with me.
Being as this is my first multi-chaptered project on FF.net, reviews would be very much appreciated. Flames, however, will just cause poor Sylphiel to cry. There are nice ways to tell people you don't like their story. And if your 'review' requires the disclaimer 'This is not a flame' then, chances are, it probably is.
Next Chapter: A Home for the Homeless. Updates may be very sporadic as having readers to write for and a schedule to stay on is a new thing for me, but I
will try my best to keep the story coming. Thanks for reading ^_^
~Mossygirl~