Authors' Note: I haven't skipped ahead in ages just yet. Luke is still ten here, and Guy is still fourteen. Oh, and I went ahead and re-wrote part of the ending of the last one, due to the fact that it did contain a rather glaring canonical error on my part -- whoops! That's what I get for not passing it by the beta first, haha. Hopefully it won't happen again. :) Thanks for pointing it out, Keltena!
Please review!
Bonds of Brotherhood
Two: Words of Wisdom
In the first couple of weeks after he'd returned to the manor, Luke and Guy had been virtually inseparable due to Luke's dependence on his personal manservant. It was Guy's job to teach him how to walk again, how to talk again, how to dress himself again. It was Guy's job to bathe him (Luke refused to let the other manservants get close, positively howling for Guy until Guy had had no other choice but to respond), Guy's job to feed him -- Guy's job to do everything for him, because Luke had amnesia and couldn't remember how to do so himself.
And, in truth, Guy hadn't really minded all that much. When he was with Luke, taking care of the kid, he found that he didn't really have time to think about his revenge or his real purpose for being in the Fabre manor. He didn't have time to think about the destruction of Hod, the way his family had been slaughtered, the way the entire city had been destroyed. Luke kept him much too busy, way more hyperactive than he had ever been before the kidnapping. When Guy was around Luke, taking care of him or entertaining him or making sure that he wasn't getting into too much trouble, he was able to push aside darker thoughts in favor of keeping a smile on the kid's face. It was easier that way.
But after a couple of weeks had passed, Duke Fabre had decided that Luke was well enough to return to his lessons again -- lessons of court etiquette and education despite the fact that King Ingobert had passed a decree forbidding Luke to leave the manor. Of course, Duke Fabre's true intentions were glaringly obvious. It wasn't that he thought Luke should be educated so much as it was that he just didn't want Luke spending all of his time around Guy, a lowly servant. If Guy had cared anything about Duke Fabre's opinion at all, he might have been insulted. As it was, he just chalked it up to what was to be expected and reminded himself that Duke Fabre would get everything he deserved later on anyway.
Or, he tried to remind himself, anyway. It wasn't until one afternoon when Luke was stuck in lessons and Guy was fiddling with a small piece of fonic technology in his room that he had his own judgment questioned by Pere, who returned to their shared room covered in soil from his gardening, his face reddened slightly from the sun.
"Ah, Master Gailardia," he said, and Guy looked up with a casual smile of acknowledgement in Pere's direction. "I must admit that I'm surprised to see you here. I thought that you would be with Master Luke."
"He's in a lesson," Guy said absently, returning to his work. The fontech was nothing special -- just a little fontech toy coach that would hopefully move on its own when it was wound, if Guy could fix it properly. "Geography, to be exact. It'll be good for him to learn for kicks, I guess, though I have to admit that I can't really see the point when he's forbidden to leave the manor."
"Indeed," Pere agreed, moving over to the wardrobe to grab a more acceptable change of clothing. "I have to say that I don't believe he'll be happy with that doctrine for very long. He isn't even allowed to see the city, is he?"
"Nope. He is to stay in the manor at all times. Makes my job easier, that's for sure."
"Which job?" Pere's question was quick, but Guy could hear the caution in it, and it caused him to look up with a slight frown.
"What do you mean, 'which job?'"
Pere seemed to hesitate again, pursing his lips, but he continued before Guy could press him. "Master Gailardia, I can't help but notice that you spend an awful lot of time around Master Luke -- caring for him, if you will."
"That is my job, Pere. If I refused to take care of him, it would look suspicious," Guy pointed out, sitting up straighter. "The last thing I need to do is anger Duke Fabre. If I refused the task I was assigned I'd be out of here faster than I could think, and then where would I be?"
"Roaming the streets of Baticul, I'd assume," Pere answered, and Guy almost rolled his eyes. "But, forgive me for my impudence, Master Gailardia, but I simply have to wonder . . ."
"Wonder what?" Guy pressed when Pere didn't finish his thought. Pere sighed.
"Master Gailardia, do you still plan on carrying out your revenge?"
"What? Of course I do." Guy's eyes hardened, his lips set into a firm line. "Duke Fabre murdered my family, Pere. I'm not going to just let him get away with it."
"Yes, yes, I know. I was there." Guy could see the pain in Pere's aged eyes, and he let some of the tension ease itself from his shoulders, forced himself to relax. It wasn't Pere's fault, and taking it out on Pere wouldn't solve anything. "However . . . Well, you originally came to this manor with the intention of killing Duke Fabre's son -- of exacting your vengeance upon Luke so that Duke Fabre would feel the same pain that you felt."
"And?" Guy prompted, though his gut was twisting in a way that told him he knew what was coming next.
"I've noticed that you spend an awful lot of time with Master Luke nowadays, Master Gailardia," Pere said gently. "You used to spend time with him, of course, before his kidnapping, yet you always seemed unhappy when you did. You used to tell me night after night about what he had done that irritated you that day, used to pressure me into letting you carry out your revenge early . . ." Seeming to sense Guy's impatience, Pere continued. "Now, however, you rarely speak of your revenge, if at all. You seem to enjoy the time you spend with Master Luke. You take care of him, just as Vandeldesca used to take care of you--" if Pere noticed Guy's wince, he didn't show it "--and I have to wonder if you truly intent on carrying out your revenge when you seem to be growing so close to the boy."
Guy didn't know how to respond at first. Instead, he looked back down at the little fontech coach he'd been construction, glaring hard at it for a few seconds before he knocked it away, sending it tumbling across the floor. Much as he hated to think it now, with Pere throwing his revenge back into his face, he'd been planning on maybe showing that toy to Luke later -- something to entertain him after a hard day of lessons. Now that idea seemed empty and worthless.
"It's not as if I could kill him now," Guy said, looking back up at Pere with barely contained frustration. "Have you seen him, Pere? He's -- he's completely -- he didn't even remember how to walk, much less how to talk. It'd be like killing a baby, and as much as I hate Duke Fabre, I couldn't do that. I couldn't kill a baby."
"So you plan to raise him and then kill him?" Pere asked, and though his expression and tone were anything but accusatory, Guy couldn't help but feel his metaphorical hackles raise.
"No -- yes -- I'll do what I need to do, Pere." Guy stood up, grabbing his sword and attaching it to his waist before heading to the door. "I'm going for a walk around the manor."
"Please be careful, Master Gailardia," Pere said, and Guy could almost hear unspoken words in Pere's tone. He chose to ignore them.
"I will."
Guy ended up out in the courtyard, standing in the very center of it, moving through some basic sword exercises. It was the only real way for him to burn off the energy he'd built up due to his conversation with Pere -- the only way for him to work through everything.
As much as Guy hated to admit it, all that Pere had said was true. It was true that Guy had originally gone to the Fabre estate with the intention of killing Luke as revenge for the massacre of his family. It was true that he had been taking care of Luke ever since Luke had returned from Choral Castle. It was true that he was growing close to Luke. And it was true (though Pere hadn't specifically said this part) that Guy was not the type of person who could turn his blade on a friend.
Luke is not my friend, Guy thought, swinging his blade before following it up with his sheath. I'm taking care of him because it's my job. It's my job to teach him how to walk and talk since he's forgotten, since no one else has the time to. It's my job to show him how to bathe himself again, to show him how to write so he can keep up that journal . . . It's my job to take care of him. That's why I'm doing it.
Ah, said a little voice in the back of his mind, and Guy grit his teeth, but you do more than that. You sneak him cookies from the kitchen every night as a reward for writing in his journal. You hold actual conversations with him and enjoy the responses you get. You were going to show him that fontech toy you made. You read him bedtime stories even though you're not supposed to be in his room. And, the voice added, and Guy swore that it had a mocking tone, you think he's a cute kid.
I do not -- ugh, why am I arguing with myself? Guy spun, swinging his blade to create a small shockwave across the ground. He hated it admit it even more than he hated admitting the truth to Pere's statements, but the little voice of the devil's advocate in the back of his brain was right as well. Guy did spend a lot of time with Luke. And whether the kid was smiling or giving those damn puppy-eyes, he was a cute kid. Much cuter than he had been before he'd left, if it was possible, since he wasn't little Mr. Perma-Scowl any longer.
But Guy had his family to think about -- his dead family, since Duke Fabre killed them. He'd sworn on their memories that he would carry out his vengeance -- that he would make Duke Fabre pay for the slaughter of House Gardios. Why, after all, should Duke Fabre escape without any sort of punishment? The people of House Gardios were innocent. Guy's parents, the servants . . . Mary. They were all innocent, and it wasn't as if Guy was wrong in wanting revenge. Vandeldesca wanted it as well. If all went according to plan, then Vandeldesca would make Commandant of the Order of Lorelei soon, and from there would be able to help Guy escape punishment for carrying out his revenge against the Fabre family. Guy had everything he needed to carry out his vengeance, and he had every reason in the world to -- so why should Luke's trauma-induced amnesia prevent him from carrying it out?
As if on cue, one of the doors leading out to the courtyard crashed open with a resounding bang, and Guy whirled around in time to see Luke running out into the courtyard, red hair pushed back by the wind, green eyes bright with exhilaration. Behind him ran a maid, yelling at the top of her lungs for him to come back, looking up in relief when she saw Guy.
"Guy! Oh, thank goodness you're here. I had no idea where Master Luke was running off to, and after the kidnapping, we cannot afford to let him out of our sights . . ."
"I'll take him from here, Rosie," Guy said, sheathing his sword and hooking the sheath back around his waist. Luke came to a skidding stop in front of Guy, turning his bright smile straight up to meet Guy's eyes. "So you don't need to worry anymore. Replace that frown with a pretty smile, won't you?"
"Oh, Guy." Rosie blushed, giggling a little. "Are you sure you don't want that date? I would reward you plenty for nice words like those . . ." Rosie took a few steps forward and Guy quickly shook his head, paling at the thought of her closing the distance between them.
"No, Rosie, that's fine. Perfectly fine. I'm sure. Very sure." Rosie's lips moved into a pout, and she sighed.
"Fine, fine. But if you ever change your mind . . ." Rosie winked and -- before Guy could say anything that could potentially damn him further -- turned to head back into the manor. That left Guy to look down at Luke, who was still grinning as if he'd just accomplished something truly worthwhile. Guy didn't know why, but when he looked down and saw that proud grin, he found himself frowning.
"Why did you run away from her, Luke?"
"Lessons are boring," Luke said, shrugging as if such information was obvious. "And when they were done I was s'posed to go to my room to do work, but that's boring too and I wanted to play with you." Luke's grin returned full-force, shining brighter than the fonbelt, but Guy still couldn't find it in himself to smile back. "So, let's play, Guy!"
In a way, Luke was still acting wildly different than he had been before the kidnapping, aside from the immaturity. The old Luke was immensely responsible, completing all of his lessonwork early or on time, and making sure that it was absolutely perfect. It was anal retentiveness that was annoying in the best of times, but that was admirable if one chose to forget that the reason he was like that was because Duke Fabre wouldn't accept anything less. This sort of irresponsibility was something that would never fly, and was likely only flying now either because Duke Fabre didn't know yet or Susanne was holding Duke Fabre at bay. If the latter was the case, then Guy was positive that it wouldn't last for long.
But in another way, he was acting exactly as he had before the kidnapping. The old Luke had been responsible, but he'd also been cold and didn't really care for the state of the servants in the manor. Sure, he cared about Baticul -- Guy couldn't count the number of times he heard Luke and Natalia discussing how to better the states of the people of Kimlasca -- but about the servants themselves? Luke had always regarded them with indifference and coldness, treating them as servants rather than people. With the way Luke had run away from Rosie, potentially getting her in trouble, it was the same sort of indifferent behavior that he'd always shown before.
And that, in conjunction with the reminder of his revenge, irritated Guy more than just a little.
"With all due respect, Master Luke," Guy began, his tone clipped, "you should be doing your homework." Luke's smile faded slowly, and he gave Guy a quizzical look.
"Are you mad?"
It was such a simple question, but at the moment Guy felt that it was anything but. "No, of course not. Why would I be mad? You only just risked Rosie's job. Do you have any idea how much trouble she could have been in?"
"I just wanted to see you," Luke protested, his bottom lip jutting out a little. Guy was not about to fall for the pitiable expression again, however, especially as Luke seemed to lose concentration for a moment, reaching up to rub at his ear.
"Well, you can't always do what you want. Your lessons are important, Luke. Education is important, and geography is just as important as the reading lessons I gave you." Well, that was a slight lie -- being literate was a little more important than knowing which direction was north -- but Guy's temper was flaring. Luke was even starting to ignore him, using the same arrogance that Duke Fabre had. "Cute kid" -- what a joke. Luke was going to turn out just like his father, and there was no reason why Guy shouldn't exact his vengeance. None at all. "Not only that, but you can't get others in trouble just because you want something. That isn't right. You have to think about others instead of just yourself -- others like Rosie. Hey," Guy raised his voice a little, glaring at Luke, "are you even listening to me?"
"I -- ow!" Luke had been rubbing at his ear, his brow furrowed in concentration, but suddenly both hands went to his head and he doubled over, eyes squeezing shut. "Ow, ow, ow!"
"What?" Guy might have thought that Luke was faking it -- and for a split-second, that thought did enter unbidden into his mind, as guilty as it made him feel -- but Luke had been as honest as an open book since his return from Choral Castle, and the pain in his voice -- not to mention the pain on his face -- seemed genuine. "What's wrong? Luke?"
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! I - It hurts! Stop! Make it stop! Stop, stop, stop!" Luke's knees buckled from under him, but Guy dove forward to catch Luke before he hit the cobblestone, alarmed to find Luke shaking and curling into a little ball, clutching at his head.
"What hurts, Luke? What is it? Your head?" Luke's only response was continued whimpering and shaking, and Guy couldn't tell if he'd nodded or not. Tears were streaming down Luke's cheeks, and for the life of him, Guy was fumbling for an answer of what to do. Should I try to move him? Carry him to the doctor? Call for help? What could have caused this, anyway? Guy was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice right away when Luke's whimpering died down, his crying easing into smaller sniffles, his trembles fading away. It took Luke trying to sit up that got Guy to notice, and Guy's attention snapped to him with the force of a dog hearing a shrill whistle. "Luke? You okay?"
"Y - Yeah. It's g - gone now." Luke wiped at his eyes and sniffed again, his lips still pulled down in a decidedly unhappy expression. "My head hurt and I heard stuff."
"Stuff?" Guy's expression no doubt showcased his confusion. "What kind of stuff?"
"Stuff," Luke repeated. "I dunno. But it was loud and it hurt, and then my head hurt really bad."
"But you said the headache's gone now?"
"Yeah."
Luke didn't appear to be hurt, as far as Guy could tell, though the tears were still evident on his cheeks and in the redness of his eyes, and he still looked distracted and unhappy. Aside from that, Guy knew the proper protocol, and knew that Susanne herself would kill him if she heard that Luke had gotten sick and Guy hadn't taken him in.
"Well, we should probably have the doctor give you a quick check-up anyway, just in case. Why don't I take you back to your room and we can call him from there?"
Luke looked up to Guy with wide eyes, and then quickly shook his head. "No! I don't wanna see the doctor! I hate him!"
"Aw, c'mon, Luke. You don't hate the doctor. He's nice to you." Guy forced a smile through his concern, but Luke balled his hands into fists and set them on his thighs, sticking out his bottom lip in a definite pout. "Luke . . ."
"My head doesn't hurt anymore," Luke insisted. "I'm not sick. I don't need the doctor."
"But just in case, you should see the doctor." When Luke refused to budge, Guy sighed. "Please, Luke? Your mother will be really upset if you don't . . ."
Luke's bottom lip remained jutting out for a few moments more before he sighed, relenting with an unhappy nod. "I guess . . ."
"Good." Whereas Luke was unhappy, Guy was relieved. He'd have carried Luke back kicking and screaming if he had to, but that was the absolute last thing that he wanted to do at the moment. Standing up, he offered his hand to Luke. "Think you can walk?"
"Yeah." Luke took Guy's hand, and though he tried to let go as soon as he was on his feet, Guy held on. "Guy?"
"Just in case," Guy said, winking once at Luke and forcing a laugh. While Luke could be stubborn as a mule and absolutely insist on getting what he wanted, he let this one slide with a nod, and let Guy guide him back toward the manor. Luke's room was only on the other side of the courtyard, within easy eyesight of where they'd been, but even so, Guy was worried. Sudden headaches like that weren't normal in anyone, much less a perfectly healthy ten-year-old kid. And besides that . . .
"Hey, Luke?"
"Yeah, Guy?"
". . . I'm sorry."
. . . Guy felt guilty. Obviously he hadn't been the one to cause the headache, but he was the one that had been yelling unnecessarily at Luke before it, and -- worse than that -- had been thinking of killing the kid in cold blood for being a little thoughtless of the maids around the manor. That wasn't a good enough reason to kill anyone, much less a child. Guy couldn't dismiss his revenge -- there was no way he could do that -- but he couldn't justify it based on little annoyances, either. That wasn't right.
"What for?" Luke asked, turning to face Guy as they reached the door that led to the corridor which housed Luke's large bedroom. Guy offered Luke a wry half-smile, and reached out to lightly ruffle Luke's hair.
"For being a jerk."
"A jerk?"
"A mean person."
"Oh." Luke frowned, placing his hands on his hips. "You're not, Guy! You're . . ." Luke paused, searching for the word, and then grinned. "You're cool!"
Guy laughed -- genuinely laughed -- knowing exactly where Luke had gotten that word. Opening the door, Guy ushered Luke into the corridor, making sure that Luke was inside first before following and shutting the door behind them. "Yeah, but even cool people can be jerks sometimes," Guy said, putting a hand on Luke's shoulder to guide him toward his bedroom. "Remember that for when you're older."
"Huh? Why?" Luke twisted his head around to look up at Guy, looking almost indignant. "I'll never be a jerk." His response was so innocently indignant that Guy couldn't help but laugh a little again.
"Yeah, well, we'll see about that."
Guy had taken Luke to his room and had then gone off to fetch the doctor, leaving the doctor to tend to Luke after that. Guy was positive that Luke wouldn't like it, but Guy was smart enough to know that he couldn't be in Luke's room with any other witnesses around. After all, if word got back to Duke Fabre, it'd be his head on a platter.
It was for that reason that Guy waited until much later to return -- until after Luke had already eaten dinner, bathed, and been sent to his room to write in his journal and go to sleep. Once the final maid had checked in on Luke for the night Guy slipped in like normal, a glass of milk and a couple cookies held in his hands. As Guy had predicted, Luke was sitting at his desk, scowling at the journal opened up before him until he heard Guy enter, turning his scowl into a bright smile.
"Guy!" His typical smile faded slightly, and he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. "Why didn't you come with the doctor today?"
"You know I'm not supposed to be in here, Luke." Guy waited until he'd quietly shut the door behind him to answer, crossing the room in a few easy strides to set Luke's milk and the cookies down on Luke's desk. "If the doctor had seen, he probably would have told your father."
Luke's pout twisted into more of a genuine frown. "Father should let you visit. You're my friend."
"I'm your servant," Guy corrected easily. "So I'm not allowed."
"You're my friend," Luke further corrected, reaching for a cookie. "So you should be."
"Ah, ah." Guy reached out to gently knock Luke's hand away, ignoring the argument over whether he was a friend or a servant in favor of indicating Luke's journal. "How much have you written?"
"Enough," Luke said evasively, but Guy reached for the journal regardless. "Hey!"
"You have to write at least a page or it doesn't count." Guy skimmed the entry for length before setting it back down in front of Luke, motioning for Luke to pick up his pencil again. "Just write a little more and then you can dig in."
"Hmph. Now you are being a jerk." Despite his words, Luke didn't seem to be too miffed, and Guy smiled a lopsided smile.
"Maybe I shouldn't have taught you that word. Or reminded you of that word, I guess."
"Why not? It's a cool one. And a true one right now." As he spoke, Luke's eyes remained fixated on his journal, slowly scrawling messy lines across it. "One bite would be a good thing, you know? It'd make me want to write more."
"Wanting the cookie is making you want to write more," Guy countered, tilting his own chair back on two legs. Luke huffed, but continued writing, and Guy watched as Luke chewed his lip in concentration as he wrote.
From what he'd heard from the other servants, the doctor hadn't been able to find a real cause for Luke's headache, and given the fact that Luke had heard a strange sound along with it, the doctor was chalking it up to post-traumatic stress disorder due to the kidnapping. Sometimes symptoms appeared late, he'd said, so it wasn't really all that surprising that Luke was experiencing the first headache a little over a month after his kidnapping. The doctor said that with rest and time, Luke would surely return to normal, and might even regain his memories.
Truth be told, Guy wasn't sure what was worse: to have tear-inducing headaches, or to not be able to remember anything at all.
". . . Guy?"
Guy shook his head, scattering his thoughts like dust on a table, and looked at Luke. "Sorry," he said, grinning a bit sheepishly. "You say something?"
"I said I'm done." Luke indicated his completed journal page with an almost dismissive wave of his hand, his concerned eyes never leaving Guy's face. "Are you okay? You looked sad."
"Huh? Oh, no, I'm fine. You did good, Luke." Guy tried to smile, and nudged the plate with the cookies closer to Luke, taking one for himself as Luke reached up to take the other. "Have a cookie."
Luke took the proffered cookie, tearing off a small piece and sticking it in his mouth, looking up at Guy every now and then with the same quizzical look. If it hadn't been for that -- if Luke had merely let the subject go -- Guy might have just let the subject pass without further exploration. But Luke very obviously wasn't letting the subject go, and because of that, Guy couldn't either.
"It was just . . . I was just wondering . . ." Luke looked back up to Guy with expectant eyes, and Guy sighed. "Is it hard not having your memory?"
Luke blinked, completely taken aback by Guy's question. Truth be told, Guy wasn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting. After all, wasn't it obvious? Luke faced plenty of difficulties due to the fact that he couldn't remember anything. He'd even forgotten how to walk and talk, for Yulia's sake. Of course it was hard. But Luke, for all that he could pout and sulk and throw tantrums, wasn't the type of child to cry endlessly. If something bothered him, really bothered him, he seemed to want to keep it to himself. His reluctance to see the doctor was proof enough of that. So Guy wasn't sure what to expect, and wasn't sure if he'd try to coax an answer out of Luke if Luke refused to answer.
But he didn't. After looking at his cookie and pondering it for a few moments, Luke looked up at Guy with an expression that was startlingly calm and clear.
"I guess," he said. "But you can't go forward if you keep looking back, so . . . I don't need a past." That being said, Luke went back to his cookie, eating it piece by piece, eating the parts with the most dough first while savoring the chocolate chips.
Guy couldn't think of a response to that -- could only stare at Luke, his own cookie forgotten. When Luke finished his cookie and asked rather bluntly if he could have the rest of Guy's, Guy let him, still too stunned by his answer to really care about his cookie anymore. You can't go forward if you keep looking back. It was so simple, yet so . . . beyond Luke's years. Was this really the same kid who didn't even knew what a jerk was just earlier that day?
"Hey, Guy?" Luke's voice broke Guy once more from his reverie, and it took Guy a few seconds to focus. Both cookies were gone and the glass of milk was empty, and Luke was getting up from his chair. "Will you tell me a story tonight?"
"Yeah," Guy agreed, his response automatic. "Sure. What kind of story do you want?"
"I don't know. Any kind." Luke bounded over to his bed, jumping upon it and scrambling to get beneath the covers. "Maybe one about some kind of adventure."
"All right then." Guy pulled his chair over beside Luke's bed, wondering if he could really improvise a story, or if he'd have to go for the storybook. "I think I can do that. "Once upon a time, there was a great hero named -- "
"Luke!" Luke interrupted, grinning broadly. How modest, Guy thought, but grinned in spite of his own thoughts.
"Luke. The great hero Luke lived in the kingdom of Dimlasca, protecting it from evil and with great honor and virtue . . ."
Luke had fallen asleep halfway through the story, like always, and Guy had returned the empty plate and glass to the manor's kitchen before retiring to his own room. He half-expected Pere to be asleep, given all the gardening labor that Pere did all day, but when Guy returned, Pere was still awake, reading a book.
"Good evening, Master Gailardia," Pere greeted when Guy had shut the door. "You are back quite late. Was Master Luke all right?"
"Oh, so you heard, then. Yeah, he was fine." Guy unhooked his sword from his belt, leaning it against the wall as he walked over to flop down onto his bed. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt exhausted. He didn't even feel like undressing. "The doctor didn't really know what caused the headache. Said it was probably post-traumatic stress disorder or something like it."
"I see. That child has certainly been through a lot."
"Yeah. He has."
Silence fell between them for a moment and Guy closed his eyes, snuggling his face into his pillow. It felt so good that he was positive that he never wanted to move again. But then Pere spoke up and Guy sighed into his pillow, knowing that sleep wouldn't be that easy. "Master Gailardia, about our conversation earlier -- "
"Yeah, about that." Guy flipped over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I thought about it a lot after I walked out of here."
". . . If you don't mind me asking, what conclusion did you reach?"
"I . . . I don't know, Pere," Guy admitted, lacing his fingers on his stomach. "You were right about a lot of things. I do spend a lot of time with Luke, and I do enjoy it. He's irresponsible and can be a bit of a brat, but . . . I like him, even when I get mad at him like I did today." Guy sighed. "I shouldn't have been. I was overreacting. But I'd been thinking about my revenge, and then when I saw him come running out . . . well, let's just say that his little episode put things back into perspective for me. He's just a kid, Pere. Luke didn't kill Mary or any of the others -- Duke Fabre did."
"I see. So, you aren't going through with your revenge, then?"
"That's just it -- I have to. I promised Mary and Mother and Father and all the others that I would." Guy looked over at Pere briefly before returning his eyes to the ceiling. "I just . . . I don't know. I don't think I can kill Luke, but at the same time, what choice do I have? I can't just break the promise that I made to my family. Duke Fabre needs to pay for what he did." Guy paused briefly. "But, do you know what Luke said to me earlier?"
"What?"
"I asked him if it was hard not having his memories. He thought about it for a moment, and then he looked at me and said, 'you can't go forward if you're always looking back.' Just like that. It made me think a little bit, about maybe . . . maybe the reason I haven't moved on is because I won't let myself. Because I keep thinking about Hod and Mary and the others." Guy scowled. "But aren't I supposed to keep thinking about them? I can't forget them, nor can I forget the fact that Duke Fabre is the reason they're all dead." Guy made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "I just -- I just don't know, Pere. I don't know."
"Well," Pere said, and Guy glanced over in time to see Pere set his book down on the bedside table, giving Guy his full attention. "I will support you in whatever decision you make, Master Gailardia."
Despite his own confusion, Guy smiled a weary smile, closing his blue eyes. "Thanks, Pere," he said. "Thanks."
