Dances with Wolves - Chapter 1: Surviving.
Been a while since i've wrote anything. After playing the story mode to Soul Calibur 5, and realising what an atrocity it is and how it never bothers going into either of these two characters, I decided I wanted to write this. It just doesn't do the new characters (Or anyone else for that matter) any justice. In any case, this a Z.W.E.I. x Viola fanfic that follows the story mode's ending with Z.W.E.I. having survived his apparent death.
Warning: reading 'Z.W.E.I.' is likely going to get a little irritating after a while, but that's his name, so...
He doesn't remember ever reaching the bottom of that pit.
For all he knew, it was endless, and he had been falling for all eternity. The pain of the blade that pierced his back soon dulled along with his consciousness as he plunged deeper.
'Damn it...' murmured the werewolf inside his mind when his breath no longer held the capacity for it. He had put an end to Dumas, to Nightmare, his enemy. That was his one purpose in life, the one mission he had wanted to fulfil before he could die proudly. Yet this was not the way he envisioned it.
Even when his fortune teller companion had warned him in advance of his actions, when he had known he would be going to his death, he decided it was acceptable to sacrifice himself to save many more lives and souls from the Azure knight and his cursed blade. But in the end the Azure knight, Nightmare, was all he had destroyed.
He realised too late that as long as Soul Edge still existed, there would be another Nightmare take its place. This was made painfully clear by the stab in the back from a Malfested he briefly recognised as Pyrrha Alexandra in the fleeting moments he had before the darkness of the gaping chasm rose up to smother the murky light of the smoke streaked skies.
"Z.W.E.I. ..."
In the darkness of the abyss, in the void between life and death, he thought he heard her call his name.
"Z.W.E.I. ..." She begged in a tone outlandish to him, a tone fraught with what little, rusty emotion she had to spare. "Z.W.E.I. ... Please don't die... don't leave me alone again..."
It was as if a millennia of purgatory had passed before his body was made aware that it was still alive, even if his mind was still incapable of processing anything.
He wasn't sure what came first, the fire returning to his limbs, or the spikes of searing white-hot pain that assailed every inch of his being. It couldn't be helped when Z.W.E.I. only awoke in feverish fits, bellowing in pain and trying to rise, only for a small, cold feminine hand with a surprising strength to force him back down, and wipe the sweat from his brow with a deliberately delicate stroke, lulling him once again into pained slumber after pained slumber. It would be a little longer still until his recovery dawned.
The first thing he did when he began to come to was groan a long dry-throated groan, followed by opening an eye blearily with some effort, brow creasing as everything struggled to enter focus after a period of time. It felt as if he hadn't opened his eyes since birth, and sunlight stung at them like angered hornets whilst a gentle breeze caressed his face as would a mother welcoming him home. It wasn't the only welcoming thing about the room he awoke in. The furniture was typical of that of a room in the ancient citadel Schwarzwind called home, and there was another thing.
"Finally with us again, are you?" A familiar authorative voice radiated from a figure that had gone unnoticed up until this point, motionless and silent in the hazy outline of a chair in the left corner of the room. When Z.W.E.I.'s eyes finally focused upon him, he realised he was looking at the scarred, smiling visage of Siegfried Schtauffen, his friend and captain, clad in everyday wear as opposed to his usual armour. The short-haired man closed his eyes again momentarily with a low grunt, eventually settling to stare up toward the stone ceiling.
"...Why am I...-?" The werewolf began with a rasp.
"...Still alive?" The blond finished his sentence for him. "You can thank Viola for that. And Lady Ivy." Siegfried took to his feet and brought with him a small mug of what Z.W.E.I. assumed was water from the table beside him, holding it out expectantly to the man gaining his bearings on the bed.
"Viola..." Z.W.E.I. mumbled the seer's name, and recalled the voice that called out to him in what would have been his last moments. 'Please don't die...' it had pleaded. 'Don't leave me alone again...' Trying to pull himself to a sitting position too fast was punished with near crippling pain.
"Easy now... Don't open up your wounds again." warned the knight, and so Z.W.E.I. grimaced and did as he was told, using his forearms to slowly push himself upright. "Viola's been watching you, day and night like a hawk. I can't say I've ever seen her like this before." Siegfried shook his head slowly. "I've had to persuade her to leave you be and rest herself a few times. Hilde seems to think she's not left her room today at all, however."
The werewolf had to hide a passing smirk behind the mug as he took it from the knight and raised it to his lips. It was not the first time he had half a mind to remark about how the two might as well be Schwarzwind's doting mother and father, especially since he was on nickname terms with the princess of Wolfkrone. The last time someone jested about it had, however, incited a mutual unspoken refusal to speak to one another between the redhead princess and the blond captain, and resulted in a couple of days on particularly gruelling drill duty for the Z.W.E.I. and the other mercenaries.
When the ominous liquid in the mug slipped between the werewolf's lips, he soon discovered it wasn't water. He almost retched there and then, having not taken care to smell the mystery substance before slurping it. Its texture was not unlike swamp water, algae included. He would have spat it out if Siegfried hadn't put up a hand as if to tell him to stop. Begrudgingly he allowed the horrid solution to slide down his dry throat. Oh, it whet his thirst somewhat, but he still felt as if he had to chew the god-awful stuff before swallowing.
"Urk... Ugh, What the hell was that?" He gagged and spluttered, wiping his mouth furiously with his forearm.
"It's a healing tincture. As I mentioned before, we were lucky enough to run into Lady Ivy after we found you. Viola arranged a deal with her; your life in exchange for a pure sample of your blood for study." Siegfried spoke clearly and concisely, folding his arms across his broad chest.
"Can I get a refund? This stuff is awful!" The tanned male retorted, smacking his lips afterwards with an expression that could only be described as violated.
The captain chuckled to himself. "I'm afraid Ivy's long gone by now, otherwise I'm sure she'd appreciate your 'gratitude'." Of course, Siegfried of all people was quite aware of how the haughty countess would have responded to his impertinence after one or two clashes with the woman himself.
After a moment or two of quiet mirth, Z.W.E.I. turned his attention to concerns of a more pressing matter. "...So what happened after...-?" He began, assuming the blond would read into the event left unsaid.
"...After you took down Nightmare, the Malfested lost morale and a large number of them fled, giving us more in the way of an upper hand. But from what I understand, Patroklos' sister took up Soul Edge shortly after that." Siegfried's tone was flat, informative. As it was whenever he briefed his mercenaries on a mission, or debriefed in this case.
"...I messed up. It was that damned cursed sword that needed to be destroyed all along, not Nightmare. Not Dumas." The werewolf rubbed his forehead and snarled at his own stupidity.
"As long as Nightmare wielded Soul Edge, you would have had to go through him first. And battling with Nightmare and living to tell the tale is no easy feat." The mercenary captain stated with some genuine admiration.
"Tch..." That wasn't much consolation to the raven-haired man at all. "What happened then? Did Patroklos save her?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. I remember bright lights tearing the sky asunder, then nothing." The blond shook his head, closing his eyes briefly. "Ivy seems to believe both swords must have been sealed away, but no-one knows where neither they nor the swords are now. As for what remains of the Malfested ranks, my scouts are still in pursuit. In any case, that's how the battle ended." Siegfried ended on a thoughtful note, accepting the mug back from the man on the bed and turning on his heel, heading for the door. The captain glanced back at the man on the bed, and then turned his back once again, hiding the faintest of smiles to himself.
"I'd tell you to get some more rest, but...I know full well you won't." He spoke, poised to open the door with his hand upon its worn wood.
"...So I'm free to wander, then?" Z.W.E.I. quipped cockily, propping himself up properly with a grimace and a hand clutched at his bandage bound ribs.
"As long as you don't stray too far and Hilde doesn't see you, I don't think it'd hurt. Just don't overdo it." And with that, the captain left Z.W.E.I. to his own devices.
He was right, of course. The first thing the werewolf did, only moments after he'd left, was ease himself out of bed. Not out of disrespect to his captain or wanderlust, but a need to stretch his numbed legs somewhat. That and to speak to Viola, his mysterious fortune teller companion, the woman responsible for saving his life.
The citadel seemed larger than he remembered when he had to stumble through its numerous corridors and stairs, and although he had often had to use the wall for support along the way, his clumsy feet soon lead him to her chambers. Thankfully, he had not run into Siegfried's brazen battle-princess second-in-command along the route, sneaking was especially tough when you were as tall as Z.W.E.I., built as he was and still awfully woozy, but he did find himself hesitating to rap upon the wood of the young seer's door. His knuckle hadn't even touched the finish before a monotone voice informed him that "You may enter." The werewolf breathed a small sigh. He hated it when she did that.
The door swung open to reveal a simple room much like the one he had awoken in, with its sole occupant sat wistfully by the open window, chin propped upon the back of her hand. The room was fairly spartan except for the few personal belongings that Viola actually owned, which wasn't much at all since it was rare for the two to stay in any one place. He could just about make out the shape of her orb, carefully swaddled in cloth to keep it safe, upon a small, aged wooden table and alongside a wax candle long burned out from late night usage.
"You were lucky fate had other ideas for you." Her words were more harsh and sharp than any dagger. Viola looked him over briefly with her peculiar garnet red eyes, and he could have sworn he caught a glimpse of something akin to relief in her gaze before she swiftly averted it once more to the land beyond the window.
"...Yeah, It's good to see you too, Viola." Z.W.E.I. raised a brow and smirked a cocky smirk at the pale fortune-teller. He was more than used to her ways by now, but this was a little harsher than usual coming from her. He probably deserved it however, all things considered.
"You should be resting." the white-haired maiden scolded tactlessly without giving him as much as a second glance. Her voice was dull, her window-ward gaze was dull, but she still made it perfectly clear that she was annoyed.
"I wanted to see you." explained the werewolf after a moment's hesitation and a sting of guilt, his dark eyes focusing upon her intently. Well, that was true, but asking about hearing her pleading voice seemed like too much of a gamble right now since he doubted that she would even dignify it with a response whilst in this mood. Being alive and in her company was more than enough for the moment, however displeased she was with his actions.
"Why?" She curled her lip in distaste, as if just saying that one word left a horrid taste in her mouth. Evidently she was irritated that he prioritised visiting her over making a full recovery. Not that he could blame her if roles were reversed, but he would have had some degree of sympathy, unlike her.
"...To say thanks. Thanks for saving me. And... looking after me." The raven-haired man smiled, as sincerely and gently as he was able. Siegfried had claimed she rarely left his side during his healing process, and there was no mistaking the small, frigid and gentle hands he had felt whenever he woke up in a feverish state between life and death. Anyone else might have mistaken her lack of response or reaction for ignorance, but Z.W.E.I. simply let her be. She never did take gratitude well. It still left an awkward, uncomfortable silence in the air however. She was good at those and notoriously unreadable as always.
"...I've got to ask, how exactly did you find me?" The circumstances behind his unlikely survival were dubious at best. Saving him must have been no easy feat, when you consider what felt like a never-ending plummet and a sword through the back.
"When a hound is loyal enough, it will snap even at death's feet to protect its master." There was no hesitation or additional thought put into that cryptic sentence, and still no flicker of emotion upon her face. Viola seemed to think and speak in riddles more often than not.
"You mean E.I.N?" Z.W.E.I. mused aloud. Well who else could she mean other than the old beast spirit at his command? "That old mutt just couldn't let me die, huh...? Remind me to thank him later." Although a simple 'E.I.N. helped' would have done just fine, exactly how the entity had helped was seemingly left to the imagination. Perhaps she thought he needed the mental exercise after... wait, just how long had he been unconscious?
"...How long have I been out for?" He asked gingerly, not knowing what to anticipate from Viola. Perhaps he should have asked Siegfried when he had the chance.
"Long enough." Viola felt the need to say nothing more on the matter. Either the subject was something sore to her, or she simply felt that since he was alive and well now, it simply didn't matter anymore. The way she sharply turned her scrutinising gaze upon him once again suggested there was something else she wanted to address, however.
"...You locked me in here. Before the fighting started." The fortune-teller watched him with unflinching eyes, knitting her brows in a subtle expression that could have been frustration, confusion or perhaps both.
Z.W.E.I. groaned. He should have known this coming. "I told you before. The battlefield is no place for you. I was trying to protect you."
"The room didn't hold me. I could have fought alongside you and the others." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. If his reasoning didn't go over well with her the first time, it wasn't about to sit any better with her now.
"I didn't want to risk losing you." admitted the werewolf in earnest. Whilst it was true that Viola was a competent fighter in her own right, she was ill-suited to warfare, and the idea of her stranded in the middle of full scale war would have proved far too worrisome for him.
"You were selfish." Without missing a beat, her words bit into him once more, her glassy garnet eyes staring accusingly up at a man with a physique most would find quite intimidating.
"Well, Maybe I was!" barked Z.W.E.I. back, his voice raised a little louder than intended, and his eyes meeting hers in a mutually defiant gaze. Perhaps he was selfish for treating her like the fragile porcelain doll she seemed to be, for keeping her out of harm's way, for leaving her there in safety while others she cared for (Assuming she cared at all) were endangered. But he wasn't wavering on this. He was prepared to die that day, but he wasn't prepared to see harm come to Viola. Part of him wanted to say that, and reinforce the point that her life held more value than his, but even if she understood how he had felt, she likely wouldn't care.
"I warned you, that you would die for nothing." She didn't even try to meet his volume. Still nothing in that voice, still nothing in those eyes, but she was still chastising him, straining to make some point that went largely unnoticed. As it stood, however, it boiled down to what sounded like little more than a listless 'I told you so'.
"...But you still saved me." He reminded her sharply, sighing in resignation as he shook his head and tugged open her door. He knew her better than anyone else, yet her apathy still utterly baffled him sometimes. And as he closed the door behind him, he stole one last look at her, who had once again resumed vacantly staring out of the open window, chin propped upon the back of her hand, as if he had never entered. The dark-haired werewolf deflated with an exhale after she and her room slid out of sight once more.
He lingered before shuffling back to his room, for just a second or two. Just long enough for him to wonder whether or not he had really heard a voice on the other side of her door softly utter a reply to him.
"...I can be selfish, too..."
