The Winds Of Sacae.
Dedicated to Wandering Cat, whose first awesome fanfic inspired the title. Thanks!
Lyn spun gracefully, her Mani Katti flashing in the dusty interior of the hall. Kent blocked her slash, a bead of sweat dripping onto his forehead. How on earth did his Lady have such blasted stamina? Yes, she was a Sacaen warrior born and bred, but still! Kent had been training as a cavalier for several years; and here he was, already exhausted.
His liege swung hard, and Kent countered expertly. Unfortunately, the combined power of Lyn's swing and the keen edge of the Mani Katti were more than enough to shear straight through the steel sword.
Kent sighed, exasperated, while Lyndis smiled apologetically. Try as he did, Kent just could not keep the impatience out of his voice.
"That's the fifth steel sword you've snapped, Lady Lyndis," he said, clearly annoyed. "Perhaps you would consider using an iron sword, rather than the Mani Katti?" The Sacaen grinned, and shook her head.
"Sorry Kent, but there's just something about this sword of mine that seems to make me a better fighter; that being said, I need to get a better feel of it. It's almost like it empowers me."
"What was your first clue?" Kent muttered under his breath. Up until she had been using the sacred sword he was on an even win-lose streak with Lyn. Now his results were spiralling downwards, and he hadn't won a sparring match for ages. Kent knew it was childish, but it irked him.
"Pardon?" inquired Lyn.
"Nothing, Lady Lyndis. It was nothing." he replied, tossing the useless hilt aside.
"Very well. Come on, Kent. Let's try again."
Kent nodded and picked up yet another steel sword, his eyes wary. See if you can score a hit on me this time, he thought. Just please, he begged. Please, for St Elimine's sake, don't break another sword!
Lyn leapt high into the air, spinning again, her sword whirling dangerously close to Kent's head. The cavalier couldn't help himself; he foolishly allowed his frustration to get the better of him. Kent ducked low and bulled his way beneath her, his armoured shoulder catching her hard on the thigh. Lyndis' eyes widened as she was knocked head over heels and landed hard on the stone tiles below.
Kent froze as he heard a crack. Lyn had landed hard on her head on the stone tiles, her Sword of Spirits clattering as it fell out of reach.
Lyn lay helpless on the ground, her vision swimming. No matter how she tried, she couldn't move. Bright dots of light clouded her vision, but Kent's face was visible through the myriad.
"Kent?" she mumbled through numbed lips.
"Milady! I'm so sorry!" he said, but his words sounded distant and quiet. Blackness began eating at her sight like fire in dry grass, and she soon lost track of feeling and time.
"Lyndis, no! Come back!" Kent's voice sounded like a bell tolling before she slipped away.
Kent tossed his gloves aside and checked Lyn's pulse. It was weak and erratic, but definitely there. The cavalier bit back tears, and hesitantly reached towards her head. Do I move her? I can't just leave her! His hand gently brushed her cheek as he tilted her head. He froze as he saw a trickle of blood ran out of the wound and along a crack in the stone, staining her cheek a deep crimson. If I was a healer, this wouldn't be any problem!
Ah, but if you were a healer, said a little voice, you wouldn't have been sparring in the first place, would you?
Kent bit his lip. Decide, Kent, decide now! Hesitance could mean the difference between life or death!
Kent removed his armour and tore off a strip of his undershirt. Slowly lifting Lyn into the air, he sponged gently but feverishly at the back of her head. Blood was flowing, and the wound was deep. Kent gritted his teeth, and a tear slipped onto the cheek of a Sacaen noblewoman. Struggling to his knees, he dashed out the doors to the silent cathedral, shouting all the way down the street for a healer.
Back on the Sacae plains, Rath of the Kutolah was lying against a tree overlooking a grassy knoll. His horse, Lone Wolf, grazed on a patch of grass roughly a metre away. The Sacaen was brooding, a typical activity for this particular nomad. Lyn of the Lorca, he mused. Your last words to me . . . what did they mean? Rath drifted back into his memory as he recalled their unusual parting . . .
He stared into the eyes of Lyn, as the warm eastern breeze toyed with her bangs.
"Rath, must you leave?" she said sadly. The solemn nomad nodded, bringing a fresh round of tears to Lyndis' gaze.
"But why?" she pleaded. "I know the plains call you, but . . . can't you stay, even if it's only a day?" Rath's face showed no emotion, but inwardly he sighed.
"Lyn . . . Lyn of the Lorca. I cannot stay . . I'm sorry." He took her hand and held it, his eyes opaque and unreadable.
"But I will remember you, and think of you often." Lyn's tears came fast and thick, but the only sound was silence. "Is it the prophecy, Rath? Did you not tell me of some part?" Rath shook his head slowly.
"No . . . I told you all that I know." Lyn buried her head on his shoulder, and Rath gave a start. Such a gesture was uncommon from the Sacaen princess, and he was unsure how to react.
"Rath . . . I won't ask you to wait for me. I want to return to the plains . . . but I can't." Rath was surprised, but he kept it to himself and nodded.
"Because of your grandfather?" Lyn, surprisingly, shook her head.
"No . . well, partially. But not just because of Grandfather . . ." Rath was confused, and for once the confusion was clear on his face.
"I can't leave yet . . ." she mumbled. Rath separated from her, and his face was impassive.
"Very well. I will not wait for you, Lyn, but only because I have been ordered not to." Lyn nodded, and straightened up. Rath allowed himself a sentimental moment as he looked into her eyes, when-
Lyn's eyes were glazed and listless, and the nomad took an involuntary step back. "Rath," she uttered. Rath flinched. Her voice had changed. It was no longer down-to-earth and strong; but ethereal and echoey. Something was wrong, it was obvious. "Be careful . . . I see oceans of fire, where once was grass . . ." Rath bit his lip; now he was starting to worry-
Could Lyn of the Lorca, Lyn of Sacae, actually be prophesying? He wouldn't have believed it had it not been happening in front of him . . . Lyn continued on, oblivious.
"Men will die, and women will weep. Be careful, Rath. There is an ill omen for Sacae in the near future . . ."
And her eyes refocused on Rath's face, her pallid look fading away. "Hunh? Rath . . . what happened? I felt so . . . strange . . ." Lyn's eyelids fluttered, and she fell forward. The nomad quickly caught her, but she was sound asleep.
Rath entered the castle and carried her upstairs, where he lay her on her bed without a word. The nomad remained almost coldly emotionless as he gazed upon her slumbering form. It would be better if she didn't see him leaving, or know he had gone.
Rath took the steps two at a time, racing out of the castle. The faster he was away from Caelin, the better.
Rath blinked as the memory faded. Their last moments together weren't what someone could describe as romantic, and that was how Rath wanted it. Romance did not fare well for an outcast Sacaen; it took his mind off combat. Although their last minutes were eventful, and perplexing at best.
Rath settled back against the tree to watch the sunset, and to do what he wanted: to be alone with his many thoughts.
Kent knelt at the bed of Lyn, the dark circles under his eyes betraying his actions at such the early hour of the morning. Fervently he hoped she was okay. He had done something stupid, something that would undoubtedly haunt his dreams for weeks to come, and now he was paying the price. Several people had come in to pay their condolences to the Lady Lyndis, who was now sleeping soundly.
Most had left after seeing there was nothing they could do, with the exception of Florina and Sain. Kent stayed his hand towards Florina, simply ignoring her. She had a right to be there, and if he talked to her she would probably jump and run; he knew what the Ilian was like when it came to men. Sain stayed longer than Kent expected, until the cavalier noticed that Sain was looking at his liege rather indecently. Not surprisingly, Kent had the protesting cavalier thrown out of the hospital.
Florina was the only one still there with Kent. Both had been silent the entire time.
"Um . . . . S-Sir . . . Sir Kent?" Florina whispered. Kent looked at Florina with gaunt, hollow eyes.
"Yes, Florina?" The mauve-haired Pegasus Knight seemed about to burst into tears. The cavalier didn't blame her; it was too close to how he was feeling himself.
"She . . . L-Lyn, I mean . . . she will be o-okay, won't she?"
Kent allowed himself a tiny smile. Florina must care so much for Lyn that her anxiety was over-riding her fear of men; a feat which took a lot of emotional stress.
"Well, Lady Lyndis has been through tougher times than this before. I expect she'll pull through." Kent replied quickly. Florina sniffed and hugged her knees, peering through a gap in her hair.
"I . . . I hope sh-she'll be alright . . ." Kent sighed. Reaching tentatively over, he gave Florina a gentle pat on the back. She flinched, but didn't pull away.
"She'll be okay." he said, but his quavering voice betrayed how he really felt.
"Course she will. It's Lyn." quipped an unknown voice. Kent yelped and spun around; Florina began crying.
Serra stood behind them, smiling. "Oh come on now Kent! And you, Florina- stop crying! If at any time anyone needed my unrivaled beauty to cheer them up, its you two! Look at you- Mr and Mrs Frumpy-face, that's what you are!" she squealed. "You two should be married; you'd be an old pair of worrywarts!"
Kent immediately shushed her, pointing to Lyn's tranquil form. Serra just winked knowingly and grinned; not even noticing when Florina started shaking.
"W-we're not r-r-really m-married, Serra . . . I mean, it would be nice to b-be married to you, S-sir Kent . . but I wouldn't really l-like it . . . n-not that I m-mean any offense to you, Sir Kent . . . it's just that-" Serra shook her head in amazement.
"Honestly, Florina. If you're going to get yourself a man, you need to shape up! Say, Kent, you'd be good for Florina! Why don't you two start dating some time?" she added. "You two could make a cute couple . . ." she trailed off into silence.
"Maybe I'll have to try my hand at matchmaking again." she mumbled, a crafty gleam in her eye.
Kent bit his lip. He wouldn't mind dating Florina- she was certainly good looking- but to think of what Lady Lyndis would say . . . it started to bug him. Then Kent realized- Lyn wouldn't actually have anything bad to say about it. On the contrary, she might even endorse it.
In fact, the more Kent thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense.
"Whoa, Kent, snap out of it." Serra started, looking shocked. "I was only joking! You know that, right? Right?"
"Yes, of course." said Kent, sounding dazed. Florina was giving him an odd look as the cavalier tried to shake off the weird feelings he was having. "Of course."
Florina was trying to look into his eyes, but the cavalier refused to meet her gaze, preferring to study the form of his liege lord. Florina sniffed and hugged her knees tighter to her, preferring to be alone with her thoughts. Serra's eyes darted from one to the other, and finally she spoke.
"I just hate awkward silences!" she squealed loudly, causing a stir in Lyn's originally slumbering form.
Kent glared daggers at the outspoken cleric while Florina slid off the bench and crept forward to the bedside.
"Lyn? I m-mean, Lady L-Lyndis?" Her face creased, but Lyndis' eyes remained shut.
"Serra," Kent whispered fiercely. "Be quiet now, and I mean right now, and maybe I won't have you thrown from the hospital!"
Florina agreed with Kent, but she wasn't about to voice her opinion and risk having Serra wake Lyn up. Instead, the shy Pegasus Knight prodded gently at Lyn's covered arm. "Lyn?"
"That was very, very, very mean, Kent! Are you trying to hurt my tender feelings?" the cleric whined. Florina couldn't help herself; she giggled. Kent looked at her, confused, while Serra just looked insulted.
"Really! The nerve of some people; especially you, Florina! I thought you were my friend! No, there's no need," she said, before Kent could even move; but Florina caught him trying to hide a grin.
"I'll see myself out!" she pouted. Flicking her ponytails in what she evidently thought was a dramatic and even regal gesture, she strode away from the cavalier and exited through the double doors.
Florina looked at Kent, and a smile spread across her face. Not her usual shy, reserved smile, but a smile full of gladness. Kent met her gaze, and grinned. Neither Ilian nor Lycian could help it; they both burst out laughing. Lyn opened her eyes and smiled. Kent and Florina look so happy together. Of course, I was hard put to stop myself laughing too, she thought. Maybe I should pretend I'm still asleep for a while; see what happens.
Kent gave Florina a searching look, with traces of the previous merriment still etched on his face. Both were unaware that Lyn was watching them through half-closed eyelids.
"What really amazes me is you, Florina. You usually seem so timid around men. I knew you and Serra were friends, but it's nice to see you come out of your shell a little bit." he remarked. Florina nodded happily, giving him a dazzling smile.
"I don't know what it is," she remarked. "I don't know why it happened now, either. It's just . . . easier to talk to you, and around you, Sir Kent." Kent's heart soared.
"I'm happy that is so, Florina. Although, I must ask . . . why did you get so flustered when Serra made the remark that you and I should be married?" Florina blushed, and suddenly she was back to her old self.
"Um . . . I'm kinda . . . that is, that . . . I'm not quite, um . . sure . . ." Kent shook his head.
"It's okay. You don't have to answer. Just promise me that you'll be a little more . . well, open in the days to come." Florina nodded.
"O-okay, Sir Kent." And she gently held his hand. Kent gave a start. Florina had held his hand. This had to be the first time since Kent had known the diminutive Pegasus Knight that she had made the first move.
"I'm glad to see you're both so happy in one another's company. Looks like Serra's visit really did the job." Lyn said, now wide awake. "Or maybe I should leave you two lovebirds alone and go back to sleep?"
Kent looked at her bug-eyed, and Florina gave a little cry and dropped Kent's hand like it was a hot iron.
"U-um . . . S-s-sir Kent and I-I . . I mean . . we're not r-really . . um . . . L-Lyn! I m-mean, Lady Lyndis! You're awake!" In order to distract herself from the embarrassment of being caught out in such an intimate position with Kent, (well, intimate by Florina's standards,) she rushed over and hugged Lyn's level form.
"I was so worried!" she whispered. Lyn just smiled and returned the embrace.
"I know, Florina. I'm okay now, though." Lyndis looked over towards Kent, who was looking rather ashen and guilty.
"Erm . . . Lady Lyndis? I didn't mean to hurt you like that. As a knight of Caelin, please allow me to offer my profuse apolo-" Lyn waved a hand, cutting him off.
"Please, Kent. It was an accident. It's okay; I forgive you." The cavalier breathed a visible sigh of relief.
"Thank you, Lady Lyndis." Lyn propped herself up on her elbows.
"What time is it, Kent? It feels quite late." The cavalier glanced out the window.
"Early actually, Lady Lyndis. It's almost sunrise." he said, stifling a yawn. Lyn gave him a reproaching look.
"Almost sunrise? And you've been awake all this time?" she said, shocked. Florina nodded beside him, trying desperately to keep her eyelids open. Lyn was touched. Her friends cared for her so much, that they would stay up all night at her bedside to make sure she was okay. She felt immense gratitude towards the two; but something more towards Kent. Something that hadn't been there before. Something had taken root inside her brain, inside her heart; and it had grown. Could it be love, she mused. No. It wouldn't be. She belonged with Rath, with her oceans of grass. Not in Caelin; not with Kent.
"Well, you both need to get some-" she paused in mid-sentence. Florina had fallen asleep, her head on Kent's shoulder. The cavalier had also dropped into the realms of slumber, leaning against the wall; but his hand was grasped in Florina's.
The Sacaen smiled, flicked back the covers and grabbed her Mani Katti off it's resting place on the wall. She may as well get up for the day, and watch the sun finish rising from her favourite little spot on a hill overlooking the plains.
Rath stretched an arrow to his bow, aiming at the tree he was targeting. The tree was small, roughly two hundred metres away. A difficult target, but Rath fired anyway. The iron arrow sped across the ocean of grass and neatly clipped a branch from the trunk.
Rath scowled. He had been aiming for the centre of the tree, not a branch. The Sacaen spurred his horse into a gallop, going to retrieve the arrow when a burly figure jumped out of a clump of nearby bushes and swiped at his head with an axe. Rath ducked easily and urged his horse on to greater speeds as he heard the Brigand give chase and yell incoherently. The trees, grasses, bushes; they all gave way to reveal more Brigands. The plains were alive with them!
Rath fired bolt after bolt into the mob, his actions forcing many to crash to the ground and die baking in the sun. The numbers eventually began to dwindle, but his horse was tiring. The bandits seemed to have inexhaustible stamina- they were keeping up with Rath!
Manouvering Lone Wolf against a tree, he shot off arrows as fast as he could, making each one count. The only bandits left were those with unusually high constitution, as was obvious by the arrow wounds they sported. Rath pulled off his quiver and looked inside; only three arrows left.
Pulling out one, he swiftly wiped the dust from the flint and shined the sun off of it; waiting. If someone did not respond to his signal in twelve seconds or more, he would die.
Lyn of the Lorca, he thought silently. In your last moments, let Father Earth and Mother Sky speak to you. In your last moments, please know that I thought of you when I was in mine.
They attacked.
Lyn stretched her arms, basking in the warmth of the new sunlight. Gingerly, she placed a hand to the back of her head as a bolt of pain shot through her skull. Wow, she thought. When Kent goes for the 'kill', he doesn't hold back. That really hurts.
Still, the sight of the sun shining over the plains was enough to make even the most pessimistic of people offer a smile. Lyn had always had fond memories of Sacae; particularly of one person.
"Rath of the Kutolah," she murmured. "Where are you? Are you thinking of me?"
Lyn sighed as she remembered her new duties as Lady of Caelin. She reluctantly turned to leave when a gleam caught her eye. Shielding her sight from the sun, she peered at the plains below her.
The gleam again, and Lyn knew what it was. It was an old Sacaen trick, like a beacon calling for help. You angle your blade towards the sun, and the light is reflected over a huge radius, proving an effective guide for any fellow tribesmen to lend their aid. Someone in Sacae needed her help. What if it's Rath? she wondered. She had duties in Caelin far more important than some random Sacaen's call for help. Lyn knew, obviously, which was the logical choice.
Without hesitating, she raced down the hill towards the signal. May Father Earth and Mother Sky forgive me if I'm wrong, she wished.
Lyn skidded to a halt on another ridge, close enough to see who or what was fighting. A Nomad was surrounded by several Brigands, the leader of whom was sporting an arrow through the right bicep. Lyn was also close enough to see the identity of the rider in jeopardy; and the cold feeling of anxiety flowed through her heart.
It was Rath, and it was clear he was injured by the way one leg hung limply against his horse, leaving a dark bloody patch on the horse's flank. Several Brigands were already dead, rotting in the morning sun with several arrows in each body; but there were still too many by far to face alone. Lyn felt her usual surge of anger at the unfair odds villains resort to in order to take down their prey; and this was no ordinary prey. This was Rath; the one whose very presence made Lyn feel safe. One way or another, she swore, they would not take Rath from her too. They took her mother and father; Rath was the only Sacaen who she cared for now.
"I will not let Rath die." she whispered. "Not him too."
Lyn charged down the ridge, now hardly four hundred metres from the bandits. The leader of the Brigands was advancing towards Rath, and he was already too close for the bow to be any use. Mother Sky and Father Earth, help me please! Lyn prayed silently as she ran at breakneck speed to reach the Nomad.
"You've near killed half my squad! Because of you, it'll take months to repair the damage; months to recruit new members! I won't forget this!"
Lyn shot through the outer ranks of the bandits, the wind grabbing at her clothes with tiny claws. She was so close; if only time could move a little slower . . .
"The Taliver Bandits will reign revenge on the Kutolah! I swear it by my axe; the axe of Kreegah! You will never fire a bow again!" And Kreegah proceeded to swing his axe at point-blank range at Rath's arm. Fortunately, he did not get very far before the glowing blade of the Mani Katti shot through his chest from behind and sliced cleanly through his side, freeing the legendary sword. Needless to say, Kreegah died almost instantly. As fast as Lyn prayed she could be, she was not fast enough. Kreegah's axe spiralled off it's intended course and caught Rath a sharp blow to the left side of the heart.
Blood immediately stained his clothing, and the Nomad belonging to the Kutolah doubled over. Lyn paled; but her attention was driven elsewhere as a nearby bandit lunged for her with a lance. She dodged and efficiently beheaded the unfortunate Soldier.
"Your
leader is dead!" she cried, prodding the mentioned corpse with her
bloodstained sword. "Go now, and I will spare your lives!"
The Brigands had fled before she had even finished speaking. Lyn
speedily turned her attention back to Rath, who was bleeding badly
and quickly.
"Rath! I'm sorry, I wasn't fast enough! Oh no . . . you're bleeding so badly! What do I do!" The Nomad's head was drooping, and his usual coppery sheen was replaced by an unhealthy pallor.
" . . . my . . ger is near- my ger is nearby. You will find . . . med-icine there . . ."
Lyn nodded, briefly wiping her sword on a tuft of grass. Gripping the reigns to the Lone Wolf, she led him towards a nearby ger. Dark and foreboding clouds were gathering in the sky; an ill omen. A steady trail of Rath's blood was visible on the plains, directing anyone straight to the ger. Rath jerked involuntarily, and began slipping sideways out of the saddle.
"Rath!" Lyn warned, before lunging to catch him. He fell out of his seat on his horse, and into Lyn's waiting arms. The Lorcan buckled visibly under her cargo's weight, but she soon straightened up and knocked open the door to the hut; winds were already visibly sweeping the long grass. As if to spite the poor Sacaen's, rain began falling in small droplets, then in stone-sized balls.
Lyn placed Rath gingerly on the wooden table and ran back outside to cover Rath's horse, who had already retreated into what little shelter it could get near the over-lapping roof of the ger. After making sure Lone Wolf was well-covered, she ran back around and shouldered open the door. The wind slammed it shut, and silence was audible in the dark ger.
"Rath . . ." Lyn moaned. "What do I do? I'm no healer . . ." She shook herself, dimly aware that she was both soaking wet and covered in blood. Think logically, Lyn. Think.
Lyn strode over to the cabinet and took out a towel, rushing back to press it against Rath's chest. It soaked the blood up, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. Lyn applied pressure, and her fingers sank into a pool of the red liquid.
"How do I stop the bleeding?" she wept. "It won't stop . . ."
"You're doing . . . fine . . ." Rath groaned. "The cupboard . . . back shelf . . . vulnerary-"
"Vulnerary! Okay!" Lyn stammered, turning and diving into the cabinet. Rummaging around, she found a bottle of the potion. She grabbed it, but her hand felt weird. Like the bottle was too light. Lyn shook the container, her dread growing.
"It's empty!" she shouted angrily, hurling it to the floor. Rath closed his eyes.
"Rath! No! Please, don't die!" she wept. Rath opened his eyes again.
"Lyn of Lorca . . . the bleeding has subsided." The noblewoman looked down and saw the bleeding had indeed stopped.
"I must rest." Rath continued doggedly. "I must sleep, and regain my strength." Lyn nodded, and went to move him. She paused as a hand grabbed her arm.
"No. Do not move me." the Nomad said slowly. "Just get a blanket or two from the cupboard, and I will be fine." Lyn nodded wearily, unfolding a blanket and spreading it across Rath after removing the blood-soaked towels. It was barely lunchtime, and already the person she felt closest to had nearly died. She was saturated in a combination of blood and water, with no change of clothes, and Rath had said nothing about her at all.
All in all, it was shaping up to be a fine day.
Kent woke up with the sunlight streaming across his face. He squinted, and brought a hand up to shield the light with it; but there was already a hand clasped around the limb. What? he thought. A hand? Who's hand is this? And what's this weight on my back?
Kent craned his head around to see Florina sleeping soundly against him. He smiled softly. Florina must have been so tired after the exertion of waiting for news of Lyndis' good health that she fell asleep next to him. The events of the last dozen hours came rushing back, and the knight felt . . . well, strange. He had once felt this way about Lady Lyndis, but now these feelings were directed at Florina. If he followed his heart, almost like in all the old stories, Serra's matchmaking would be completely useless . . . but how did he really feel about Florina? What was this strange emotion wrapping about his heart and holding it captive? Some people may have called it love, but Kent knew it wasn't. It was . . . it was hard to describe.
So Kent sat there contentedly, waiting for Florina to wake up, cradling her hand in his. There was a yawn behind him, and he felt the soft lump stir against him. Florina groaned, and pushed herself away from the hard block she had been sleeping against, collecting her mauve hair from it's shoulder. Shoulder? she thought.
"Glad to see you're awake." Kent remarked, with a touch of fatigue still in his voice. Florina's first instinct was to recoil from the man, but she didn't want to. It was the first time she had ever been so close to a man for such a period of time, and she told him so.
"It seems there've been a lot of first times for the both of us." he said. Shy Florina nodded.
"I guess . . . um, I guess there has . . ." she whispered. "S-so, um . . . I wanted to m-make another one . . . another f-first time, I mean . . ." Kent looked intrigued. "Yes?"
"I, um . . . I r-really feel safe around you." she mumbled, but her voice grew stronger with each word. "And w-why shouldn't I? You've been there for me almost as long as L-Lyn, and you've looked out for me, and cared for m-me, and-" Kent cut her off.
"What is it you're trying to say, Florina?" The Pegasus Knight shook herself. Now or never, Florina. If you don't say anything now, you'll regret it forever.
"I w-want to be with you for the rest of m-my life." she blurted, before blushing furiously. "I, um . . . r-really like you, Sir Kent, and-" Kent was overwhelmed.
"Are you asking me out, Lady Florina?" he asked dumbly. Florina nodded mutely, signs of tears long absent. Kent's heart was flying with the Pegasi.
"Yes, Lady Florina." he said simply. "I will gladly care for you, and when you are ready, I will marry you."
"Th-th-th-thank you so much, Sir Kent!" she cried. Kent embraced her with newfound passion, holding her tight. Immediately his soldier's sense flared up.
You've only felt this way about her for ten minutes! Now the two of you are getting married!
I've known her for a lot longer than ten minutes. Besides, this is Florina. She is always so timid and reserved around men; not exactly prone to making rash decisions about them. If she wishes to marry me, it must be that her feelings for me have strengthened ten-fold. I will manage.
Very well.
And Kent felt that part of his brain shut down. He felt free; no duty, no guardedness, nothing. Just his own life to live, with a woman who sincerely loved him.
"No more of that. No more 'Sir' or 'Lady'. Just Kent and Florina." he whispered, a tear trickling down his face: a tear of joy.
"I-I want to tell L-Lyn about . . . um, about us . . . Is that o-okay, Sir- I mean, is that okay, Kent?" Kent nodded.
"Yes, Florina. We must inform Lady Lyndis, so we can leave Caelin." Florina gave a start.
"L-l-leave Caelin!" Kent smiled.
"Yes, Florina. You were always talking about Ilia; I want to go there." The Pegasus Knight gave a little cry and buried her face in his chest.
"Ilia! Of course! An Ilian wedding . . ." she said dreamily. Kent took her hand and led her out the door.
"We need to tell Lady Lyndis first." he reminded. Florina nodded and took off running.
"Well come on, slowpoke!" she called, before colliding into an out-of-breath Soldier. Both toppled backwards; Florina was caught deftly by Kent and helped back on her feet, the Soldier just make a loud metallic crash. Fortunately for the Soldier, his armour prevented all possible damage from occurring, and he snatched his lance from the stonework and sprung to his feet.
"Sir Kent! Lady Florina! I have urgent news!" he reported. Florina opened her mouth to explain about her and Kent's resignation, but the cavalier gave her a look, and she nodded and closed her mouth.
"Go on, Soldier." The infantryman pulled out a scroll of parchment.
"Lady Lyndis has left Castle Caelin to travel to a hill overlooking the Sacae Plains. She answered an old Sacaen call for help; and defeated the leader of the Taliver bandits. Their intended prey was Rath, who as you know helped Lady Lyndis defeat Lord Lundgren and retake the throne of Caelin six months ago.
Judging by her selfless actions, it is extremely possible that she feels a more powerful emotion than gratitude towards Rath. After defeating the bandit's leader in a battle; the outcome of which prevented harm to her and forced the bandits to retreat, Rath was injured. Lady Lyndis was last seen helping the injured Rath into a ger, where neither exited for some time.
Our informant stayed and watched the pair for some time, until he saw twoscore Brigands approach the ger. Our informant predicted that Lady Lyndis and Rath were unaware of the bandit's approach due to the heavy wind, rain, and little light. Their estimated time before reaching the ger is twelve minutes." he finished.
Kent was shocked; while Florina was somehow galvanized into action.
"We need to help her!" she cried. The Soldier nodded, satisfied.
"I was predicting that would be your response. I had this removed from the armoury, Lady Florina." He handed her a blue steel lance with a glowing tip. Florina hefted it experimentally.
"W-what is this thing?" she asked hesitantly.
"It's an experimental lance," he explained. "-called an Axereaver. It's been specially designed to combat axes." Florina shouted her thanks as she ran off to the stables, but Kent stayed momentarily.
"Soldier, just one more thing . . . who was the informant?" The Soldier's expression was unreadable under the heavy iron helmet.
"Sir, you know the informant. Matthew."
"Matthew." Kent muttered. The Soldier looked at him questioningly. Kent waved a hand before following Florina.
"That'll be all, Soldier." The Soldier nodded, and proceeded to the dormitories of the archers. Sir Wil and his squadron should provide adequate cover fire for Lady Florina, Sir Kent and Lady Lyndis, he thought before disappearing into the shadowy interior.
Lyn tenderly stroked the brow of a sleeping Rath, feeling quite drained by the day's events. Worse yet, she was feeling disgusting due to the crust that the blood had formed on her clothes, plus she was still quite damp and freezing cold.
She glanced guiltily at Rath; fast asleep on the table. If she hadn't interfered, Rath wouldn't have been injured.
Ah, said her little voice. But if you hadn't interfered, Rath would be dead right now. You meddled because you love him.
I do, don't I, she thought, still absent-mindedly picking at her clothes.
Lyn peeked out the window at the tempest outside. Wind and heavy rain battered the windows, and she couldn't see more than a foot outside. She strode to the cupboard and took out a few extra towels, rigging up a sort of curtain for her to get changed behind. Lyn knew she had no change of clothes; but she intended to get dry, towel off her clothes as best she could and simply get dressed again. Stepping behind the curtain, she undid the buttons to her bodice and slipped it off, stepping out of her long dress. Grabbing the first of three towels, she towelled slowly at her ponytail, drying it off and carefully retying it.
She was, of course, in her underwear, which she did not remove. Wadding the cloth up, she sponged and scraped at her dress until it was passably wearable. She paused, and gritted her teeth. She had to do it. Quickly removing her bra, she dryed it furiously and placed it back on, hurling her dress over her head and pulling it back down. Smoothing out her hair and adjusting parts of the sleeve, she tried to hide her brilliant blush at being almost naked in a ger alone with Rath. It sounded silly, but she couldn't help but be embarrassed. Then the Sacaen mentally slapped herself. What's wrong with you Lyn? she asked. You're acting like a giggly schoolgirl! She dutifully finished buttoning her dress and hung the towels over an outstretched drawer to dry.
Lyn was completely unaware that the Taliver had gathered outside the ger, and were preparing to raze it to the ground.
The new leader of the Taliver bandits, Frosk, was being battered with the rain; and he didn't like it. But as the brother of the recently-deceased Kreegah, he was obligated to take the Taliver bandits and exterminate the wench that killed his sibling. Not only was she a Lordling brat, she was Lorcan. Frosk grinned at the anticipation of the kill. They would be one step closer to finishing their previous work and permanently destroying the Lorca.
The score of bandits crept through the muddy grass behind him, approaching a large shadow. It must be the ger, Frosk predicted. Nothing else around here to make that big of a shadow, but why in dragonfire did it have to be here?
"Erm, boss? I'm all wet . . . can we wait until the rain stops?" begged an archer. Frosk gave him a fiery look and grabbed him by the throat.
"No we cannot go home! She killed my brother- you know the tribal law, she has to die this day!" And Frosk efficiently beheaded the hapless archer, shoving the body to the ground to bleed. Many bandits frowned at the 'needless' display of brutality, but followed Frosk as he shot through the grasses.
In a matter of minutes, they were all facing the west wall of the ger.
"Now," shouted Frosk, careful not to alert the inhabitants of the hut. "On my mark, start hacking at the walls like there's no tomorrow! And if you don't obey, for some of you there will be no tomorrow!" he finished with a particularly nasty snarl. The Brigands, Soldiers, and even Mage raised their respective weapons . . .
And brought them down with a resounding crash, tearing a large chunk out of the wooden wall.
Florina squinted into the mist, the cumbersome rain pinning her to her saddle. Huey was being forced to hover just above Kent's horse, but both were riding as fast as conditions allowed.
"Can you see anything?" Kent's voice drifted up to her, barely punctuating the roaring wind. Florina shouted back a "No," but her feeble reply was swept away by the wind . . .
Until she saw a gigantic bolt of lightning shoot down and strike a shadowy building in the distance.
That's not natural lightning, she realized. It's magic. Thunder magic. The bandits- Lyn!
"Kent! I know where Lyn is! Follow me!" she bellowed, urging her Pegasus into a speedy flight. Kent followed along as best he could, but he was soon trailing.
"Florina! Wait . . ." he cried pathetically, but the tiny Pegasus Rider had been swallowed up by the furious tempest that had gripped the Sacaen plains. And so, Kent was on his own; his only guide was the shadow of a ger in the distance. And to make matters worse, his newfound feelings for Florina caused him worry that was too great to bear. He kicked his horse's flanks and shot off into a gallop, trying furiously to catch Florina. How many bandits lay in wait, he didn't know. All he knew was he had to catch up.
Lyn jumped at the crash that emanated from the wall behind her head. A large splintered piece of wood was now protruding. Hurriedly, she unsheathed her Mani Katti and checked the blade. It was gleaming brightly; a sign that enemies were nearby. Judging by the fact that the the Sword of Spirits was shining like a blade-shaped sun, there was a lot of the adversary outside the ger.
Lyn took a deep breath as loud crashes and thumping became hurried. This would be hard. The Sacaen bit her lip and looked at Rath, with tears in her eyes. She couldn't protect him from this many people; it was impossible.
"Who . . .?" Rath mumbled, trying to sit up. Lyn hurried over, ignoring the large splits in the wood around her.
"I don't know, but people are trying to kill us!" she cried. "I have to move you-"
"No!" Rath barked, making Lyn step back. "Just give me my bow." he said in an apologetic tone. "There's a spare set of arrows in the cupboard. I can shoot them from here."
Lyn ripped open the cupboard and snatched the quiver away from a pair of seeking hands that were reaching through a split in the wall; cutting the hands off the arms as well. The owner squealed and retracted the stumps.
"You in there!" came a gruff voice. The crashes stopped; and silence reigned.
"Yes?" Lyn replied in a falsely fearful and effeminate voice. Rath stared at her in wonderment, while Lyn shushed him and winked.
Frosk was delighted. His brother had been killed by a buxom airhead! The Taliver leader looked forward to taking this no-doubt beautiful Lorcan to be his wife; or to kill her. Either or, he wasn't too fussed.
"If you come out now and let us kill the Kutolah archer, we won't hurt you. We promise. If you don't come out by the time I count to ten, we'll have to come in after you. I don't want to hurt ye, me pretty." he added as an afterthought.
Lyn was hard put to prevent herself from laughing; even Rath couldn't stop himself from smirking slightly.
"Um . . ." she said, fluttering her eyelashes at Rath. "I don't know . . . you'll have to let me think about that one." She finished with a girlie giggle. Frosk had lost his patience, and booted the door off it's hinges.
Unfortunately, it was this last move that pushed the ger's endurance beyond the breaking point, and the west wall promptly collapsed. A gaping hole was revealed, and by some miracle the ger didn't collapse completely. The bandits rushed in, eager to be out of the miserable conditions. Lyn gasped. There must be more than forty Taliver here!
"Now," thundered Frosk, advancing cautiously. "You. Lorcan. By order of the Taliver bandits, you and the Kutolah archer must die!"
Lyn raised her Mani Katti high into the misty air, the light shining brilliantly and piercing the several gaps in the straw roof. Frosk dived backwards.
"She's got a Light Brand!" he cried. Lyn felt relieved that the bandit leader was stupid enough to believe that. All she needed was for any reinforcements to see the beacon.
Florina pointed her Axereaver at the brilliant spear of light.
"Lyn!" she screamed. "I'm coming!" Huey pushed doggedly through the rain, wings beating furiously. Florina rubbed the back of her gloved hand along her Pegasus' face.
"Come on, Huey!" she whispered in his ear. "You've done so well . . . don't give up now!" The Pegasus felt a rush of pride at these words, and powered through the wind towards the light.
"Lyyynnnnnnn!" she cried as she plunged towards the ger.
Kent, too, had seen the signal, and he urged his horse towards the shining light. He saw, albeit faintly, the silhouette's of the forty bandits, and disappointment flared within him. They were so far away . . . His javelin would be useless. Only his steel sword would serve him now.
He hastened through the mist and rain. He would reach Lady Lyndis in roughly two minutes-
He prayed to the gods he would not be too late.
Lyn placed herself firmly between Frosk and Rath.
"You'll have to kill me to get to Rath." she warned, raising the Mani Katti threateningly. Frosk grinned.
"Fine. Have it your way, lass." he quipped, swinging his axe. Lyn stepped calmly to the side, using her sword to guide the axe into the dirt. Frosk panicked, and pulled his weapon back just before it was wedged into the ground. The Brigand growled. The real fight would now begin. The Taliver formed a circle around the two, completely forgetting about Rath; the Kutolah, with his various injuries, couldn't get far anyway.
Frosk gripped his axe tightly. This wench would die this day, and his reputation would soar. He moved in for the attack, slashing horizontally at her chest. Nothing too fancy, just to test her reflexes. Lyn parried effortlessly, circling him. Both were wary of any movement, any false ploy, any deceit. Lyn stepped into the attacker's role, performing a fancy lunge which changed halfway to a diagonal slash. Frosk ducked, but barely. The Mani Katti was glowing brightly, and the leader of the Taliver made the mistake of looking at it directly.
Frosk held up a hand to shield his eyes, when the Sword of Spirits flashed under his guard and stabbed through his throat.
Gurgling and spitting blood, Frosk sank to the ground, dead. Lyn ripped the Mani Katti from the corpse, wiping the blood on his clothes.
"She killed our leader." whimpered one.
"Get the wench!" cried another.
"Kill her! Don't let her get away!" bellowed a more assertive Brigand. "Kill the scum archer as well!"
Lyn bit her lip, backing up to the table where Rath was. She had hoped that slaying their leader again would deter them enough to leave them permanently alone. Apparently not. She whipped her sword point back and forth between the advancing Brigand horde; if they charged as one she would have no chance.
Lyn advanced, cutting through the arm and neck of a Brigand as he raised his axe. They all came at her; a yelling mob of bloodthirsty terrors. The Sacaen was barely aware of her movements, unaware of Rath's continuous stream of arrows, only aware of the slaughter she was wreaking for the death's of her parents. And only aware of the pain coming from more and more slashes across her form. Though bleeding badly, Lyn still fought with inhuman ferocity. If she did not receive help soon, she would die.
"Lyyynn!" Florina screamed, shooting into the ger. Her Pegasus hovered above the floor, and she orbited the shouting mob while stabbing with the Axereaver. The enchantment on the lance obviously worked, due to the wreckage that the Ilian was bringing on those who had nearly killed her best friend.
By now the bandits had dwindled from forty to fourteen, but they still attacked Lyn and Florina with the strength of desperation. The Pegasus Knight was hard put to keep her lance from being chopped in half, stabbing and smashing to the best of her ability. Lyn felt the cold nothingness of exhaustion creep up her limbs, but she fought on, blood and sweat coating her clothes. This time, however, it was her own blood. Rath was clean out of arrows, and sat there helplessly. The Brigands were being defeated, but it was taking too much time . . . and she was so tired . . .
Lyn slipped onto one knee, offering the back of her neck to the plunging axe of a Brigand for one brief moment.
Rath watched with horror as the one that loved him was about to be taken away . . . was there nothing he could do?
Out of nowhere, a red-armoured cavalier thrust his sword into the path of the axe, blocking it's path. Lyn looked up, gratitude shining through her eyes.
"Kent!" she gasped. Kent suddenly felt very awkward.
"Milady! Um . . . I came to offer my help." he said hesitantly, offering his hand to the Sacaen. Lyn took it, and the Crimson Shield hauled her onto her feet.
Florina was just finishing off her last two Brigands; it helped that Lyn cut the legs from under both of them.
Finally, all forty of the Taliver bandits were defeated.
Lyn sighed, gazing up at the rapidly-clearing sky. "Thank you, Mother Sky and Father Earth." she whispered. "My beloved Mother, and my Father. Rest in peace; you have been avenged." The sun shone brightly, illuminating the Sacae plains in all it's glory . . .
When the sky darkened once again. Foreboding and pitch-black clouds gathered over Florina's head; but it was strangely localized. Kent looked outside the hole; a Mage was waving a hand furiously over a tome . . .
A brilliant bolt of lightning shot down from the sky. Kent had no chance for warning, only one option to prevent harm to the one he cherished. He took it.
The Crimson Shield dived over Florina, his sword shooting straight through the magical electricity. Kent screamed as the current shocked and burned his flesh, and he landed hard on a patch of dirt, shellshocked.
The Pegasus Rider screamed, dropping from the saddle to care for Kent, Elixer in hand.
"Kent . . ." Florina wept. "Drink this . . you'll feel better. Please don't die . . ." The cavalier coughed out black soot, and smiled painfully.
"I'm not dead yet . . ." he gasped, still smiling.
The Mage cursed vehemently, waving his hand over the book of magic. If he could just hit this approaching Sacaen . . .
Lyn swung her Mani Katti hard; but her limbs failed her and the sacred sword slipped out of her hands, plunging into the Mage's heart. He fell backwards, thoroughly dead. Lyn crashed to the ground, panting for breath and bleeding worse than ever. She was soaked in her own blood, and things around her seemed blurry and faint . . .
Florina, still crying, poured the Elixer on her many cuts and wounds. Rath hobbled over to check Lyn's progress, and Kent was standing tall; black and sooty, but tall. The familiar blue glow of the magical potion blared bright, and faded away, along with Lyn's injuries.
The noblewoman twitched, and painfully got to her feet, to be embraced by jubilant friends. All but Rath, who stood and watched their merriment. He was tempted to hobble away again, to leave as he had done before; but he did not. There were words that would be left unsaid no longer. Emotions towards Lyn of the Lorca that would not stay under lock and key anymore. And so the son of Dayan waited for Lyn's moment in the sun to end.
"I'm so glad to see you both!" Lyn cried. "If you hadn't come when you did, I wouldn't have survived." Florina smiled shyly.
"Well . . . we care about you, Lyn. We're friends . . . and I don't want you to die, and I'm sure Kent doesn't either." Lyn looked at the Ilian strangely.
"Florina . . . your stammer has gone. So has your lack of confidence; it's like you're a whole new person! What's been going on between you two?" she asked. Kent and Florina shared a look that revealed to Lyn what they were next going to say.
"Kent and I . . ." Florina said exitedly. "We're a couple now!"
"Kent! You and Florina?" she said disbelievingly. They nodded, but Kent looked worried. "Please, milady, if you don't want us to be together, I will respect your decision . . ." Lyn shook her head in astonishment.
"No, no, Kent! Never! This is wonderful!" Kent was confused. "Wonderful, milady?"
"Yes!" Lyn enthused. "Truth be told, Kent, I was a little worried about Florina spending her life alone . . . but I can think of no-one better to be her partner than you, Kent!" Florina was overjoyed, and wrapped her arms around the cavalier.
"See Kent? I told you she'd be okay with it!" she whispered. Lyn smiled fondly at the two lovers. Kent released from the hug first, gazing fondly into Florina's teal eyes.
"But what about you, Lady Lyndis?" he asked. "How will you spend your life?" Lyn moved to Rath's side; and secretly the nomad's heart was gladdened.
"I have found my husband-to-be, the one I love . . . if he will have me?" she inquired innocently. Her heart lept to her throat; the moment of truth had come. What if he did not love her back? Rath had never before let his feelings come to the surface, he always seemed sad, but the grief he felt was hidden beneath a 'cold' exterior. Lyn hoped that he desired to be with her also, she hoped it with all her heart . . .
"Lyn of the Lorca . . ." Rath said. "I accept your offer. I have loved you, and still do." A tear slipped from Lyn's eyes as she embraced Rath with a flaming passion. "Rath . . ." she said softly. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you . . ." The archer embraced Lyn fondly, all barriers crashing down. She loved him. It was obvious, and it was joyous. Rath knew that he would gladly spend the rest of his life with Lyn, and the burden which had been hidden in his heart vanished. He would never again be alone . . . this single fact brought him blissfulness unbounded, and he held her tight, a tear of his own dropping into Lyn's hair.
"But what of Caelin? What of your Grandfather?" Kent asked hesitantly. Lyn refused to remove herself from her hold with Rath, and so spoke aloud.
"There will be visits, Kent . . . and Grandfather can meet my husband, Rath. I leave it's stewardship to you, Kent. And if you and Florina do not wish to rule it, you may relinquish the throne to whomever you wish." Kent nodded, satisfied. Florina held him tight, and he ruffled her hair affectionately.
"As you wish, milady Lyndis." he said, still looking at Florina. Then, to his Ilian partner, "Perhaps we should stick around in Caelin for a little while." Florina kissed him fondly, and looked him in his eyes.
"Okay then. We'll stay at Caelin a bit longer."
And they left Lyn and Rath alone, leading their mounts by the reigns back to Caelin. Rath looked at Lyn, the gentle breeze playing with her dark green bangs.
"Lyn . . ." he began. "When I first left, after you defeated Lundgren, you prophecied about Sacae being engulfed in fire, and about my death . . ." Lyn looked confused, but Rath continued.
"I thought you may have no memory of it . . . but I feel that this prophecy has been fulfilled; or rather disproven. The battle that recently ensued is evidence of that." Lyn sighed and placed her head against his chest.
"It doesn't matter anymore Rath . . . all that matters is that we cherish each other, now and into times unwritten of . . ." The nomad nodded
The Sacaen's left the field, hand in hand, caring for naught but each other. All that remained ahead was silence and happy times . . . and the wedding. Lyn had never felt such joy so entrenched in her soul, and Rath would never feel the painful sting of detachment again. Even as they walked into the afternoon sun, the winds of Sacae were still blowing, and would continue to blow until the end of time.
Wow, just slightly longer than anticipated. R&R please, particularly since this is going into my C2. I'm fairly proud of this one (not as proud of it as I am of Midnight Dreams, but what the heck. It's still good.). Yeah, so R&R, and thanks for reading.