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Disgaea: Hour of Darkness ••• Pleinair's Journey

Ad Astra Per Aspera

to the stars through difficulty—

Chapter two: sunt lacrimae rerum

—there are tears for things


She remains like that for a while longer, her body wracked with sobs as she quivers in anguish. But her cries eventually soften until they are muted before reaching her lips. Silent tears make a steady course from watery orbs of blood down to her chin. Pleinair picks herself up from the grass, face lowered to the shadows away from the glow of the distant valley.

She takes a shaky step forward, a step further away from her village. Then another— from her home, a home that no longer is. A violent tremor courses down her spine and she stiffens as she makes another step. Not anymore.

She remains frozen in that position for minutes as the tears continue flowing in rivulets down her cheek.

Another hesitant step forward. Away from her mother. Muscles coiled, rigid, tense. This is farewell—goodbye—they are gone and she is lost with them—

And then just as she begins to think that she is becoming petrified into stone—

"RUN!"

—she launches into a running gait.

Run. Get away. Flee! Run, run, run.

She rushes forward; she thinks about heading back. She wants to see her mother again. She wants to see the village in its humble serenity. She yearns for so much, but she knows she cannot turn back.

Her mother's tone was pleading, desperate. But worst of all, it sounded final. She had dashed away from the nightmare, and she instinctively knew that if she retraced her footsteps, she would be greeted by nothing.

And that was the most frightening thing of all. Nothing. Complete and total loss. She didn't want to go back and see it. She didn't want to know what emptiness truly entails. Because surely, she'd be crushed by the revelation.

So she puts one foot in front of the other, repeating the motion again and again, covering ground that she has never stepped into before.

She was breezing past the scenery. The world. What she had just witnessed, what she may witness in the future—none of it mattered, would matter.

Because she wouldn't be heading back. She was just passing through.

Passing through.

Past lush grass, more grass, weeds interwoven. Past the pastel daisies, the floating dandelion seeds, and the occasional tombstone...or perhaps they were just the foundations of rocks.

Eyes locked forward. Don't look back. She needn't do so. She can't.

Dashing on ahead, up a gentle slope, leaping down a slight incline...

Just passing, passing through...

Past a dashing ninja...

Wait a second.

Pleinair skids to a stop and turns.

She stares at the first person she has come across since she left her village, the figure of a young man dressed in grayish-green, outlined by the golden rays of the already risen sun.

...Sunlight?

She suddenly notices the light-headed dizziness of her head and the harsh gasps and breaths she takes into her scorched lungs. She feels as if her legs are not there, but they obviously are. Strange, she concludes of her self-assessment.

Oh. The sun. That meant it was late morning. She had been running for the entire night. That's nice. Somewhere else in her mind, something says it isn't. She opens her mouth to—to do what? Speak? Then say what? Her head is still spinning.

She looks up, but her vision is blurring. And the adult before her is moving to the side and...up? Up—as in skywards. That couldn't be right.

Next thing she knows, the earth lurches forward to greet her as she crumples and falls to the ground.


She wakes up and lifts a tentative finger towards her face. The sides are wet with running tears, and she hastily wipes them away with trembling hands. Shock— her brain went haywire with it, apparently. She gently shakes her head in the minutest of motions and blinks back the moisture from her crimson eyes, letting her mind become peacefully blank—numb? —as she calmly observes her surroundings.

She is leaning against a thick oak tree, beside a small creek at the foot of a hill. The day is still bright, but the sun has paled and its golden rays no longer beat down on the planet's surface. The afternoon had just waned to evening skies.

She tries to gather her thoughts yet realizes that her recollection of the previous few hours is almost nonexistent, too blurred to be considered distinguishable memories. However, she manages to note that this wasn't the same spot where she had fainted.

Her eyes drift back lazily to the flowing creek. She quietly watches as the crystal-clear liquid glistens silver in the last vestiges of light, passively staring as it babbles and brims forth over slick faces of moss-covered rock. Her eyes and ears continue to observe its ceaseless course and hear its gentle murmurings, enraptured by its glimmering depths and appreciative of its utter emptiness—

She feels a tap on her right shoulder and jerks out of her daze. Glancing up to the owner of the finger, her eyes rest upon a ninja dressed in inconspicuous grayish-green. She blinks in confusion as she attempts to identify the man—he seems to be a stranger, but also a familiar face, as if he was someone she had recently met.

"Are you alright?" A low note drifts to her ear. "It seems you fainted from exhaustion."

Pleinair nods slowly in response, accepting the explanation. Although said exhaustion was a direct result of her shocked state, she privately admits to herself. She opens her mouth to ask a question, but she winces as her voice comes out hoarse and cracked.

The ninja peers curiously at her before shaking his head, taking several long strides forward to the bank of the creek. He motions for Pleinair to come over, so she stands and drags her heavy feet to the creek beside him.

"I've tested the waters myself, it's clean freshwater. You need to rehydrate yourself."

She meekly nods again, cupping her fingers as she dips them into the water. After drinking several mouthfuls, she splashed more of the refreshingly cool water on her face. She sighs in contentment.

She turns to face the young man, but he is no longer there. She tosses her head further back—when did he leave?—and he sees the man come back with a cloth satchel. A traveler, then? She muses over the answer to her own question. This place was too remote, even for seasoned wanderers. However, she had to admit that this creek was nice place to be. It was calming. Soothing...

The ninja sits back down in his previous spot and silently hands over a wrapped package to her. She accepts it gladly, already able to smell the light wafts of bread and fresh vegetables. She proceeds to settle in a more comfortable position, legs stretched out to prevent them from falling asleep, and begins to pry off the wrapping.

She unwraps it halfway before it falls onto the grass. Her fingers remain frozen in the act of removing the wrapping as she stares down at her fallen food in horror.

It was a Veggie Burger, but was evidently home-made. And the odd rabbit-head shape it came in...she would never—could never—mistake it for anything else in the world.

A musical call floated down the hallway. "Pleinair, come over for a second!"

She immediately patters forth to answer her mother's summons. She reaches the kitchen doorway and peers curiously into the room just as her mother turns her focus away from the counter laden with plates of organic vegetables. Hastily glancing down, Pleinair mentally groans to herself when she sees the stems and roots littered all over the floor. For all of her mother's patience and dutifulness, she certainly was prone to spontaneously creating a whirlwind of chaotic messes. Perhaps that was why she spent so much time cleaning everyday, Pleinair muses. But with this degree of trash, she would be forced to help clean the entire place. She released a low, long-suffering sigh at the thought.

Her mother directs a dazzling smile at Pleinair as she walks over, plate in hand. She stops before her daughter and lowers it while asking, "Want to try some?"

Pleinair lifts the oddly shaped burger in her hands with a little frown of curiosity. She raises her head and lifts a quizzical eyebrow. "Bunny-shaped veggie burger?"

Her mother grins in return. "Go on," she urges, "how is it?"

Pleinair takes another look at the burger—it really does look quite cute—before taking a bite. As she chews, she is pleasantly surprised by the light taste of fresh Spring on her tongue, savoring the combination of soft bread and crisp greens. It was odd, but it worked. She swallowed and gave her mother a happy nod of approval before she wolfed down the rest of the burger.

Her mother smiled gently and returned to her cooking. That night, they had a simple yet nonetheless lovely feast of home-made Veggie burgers.

With trembling fingers, she picks up her dropped meal and lifts her gaze to meet the slate-haired ninja's. "How—"

Her voice breaks, and she pauses, forcing herself to take in a few calming breaths, before she opens her mouth to speak again. "Who are you?"

It comes out sharp and biting, almost accusatory, but she can't help it. She hisses and grinds her teeth together as her body becomes entirely rigid, eyes suddenly darting away from the man before her. She couldn't help it, just as she couldn't help the fresh waves of tears welling up from the depths of crimson orbs. She simply couldn't help it, because this man had something made by her mother's kind hands, perhaps the very last thing she left behind before—that—so how—how did he get this?

Her mind is fast descending under a heavy torrent of sorrow, of pain, of loss, of anger and confusion and suspicion and—

—and the ninja must have sensed the wild emotions running through her, because he hastily launches into a quick explanation to placate her.

"Warped to some area a couple hills behind here, and I eventually came upon a house. The benevolent lady inside invited me in and gave me a few supplies for my journey."

She calms down as she listens to this ninja's claim, eyes narrowing as if her mind is calculating probabilities, pondering the possibilities. It was something that her mother would do, she grudgingly admits. But that wasn't enough.

"When was this?"

"Yesterday afternoon."

Right before that catastrophe, then. He was either lucky, or...

"You have yet to answer my question," she says icily.

He blinks in response, before seeming to catch on and concede. "The name's Zephyrus. A Shadow Ninja, former body-guard of the Late King. Hannah—she's the Dimensional Gatekeeper—teleported me here when I requested for escape from the Castle."

She muses over this, and gives a small nod of acceptance. As she mulls over his last sentence, she pipes up a question. "Why did you escape from the Castle?"

"The King died three—no," he scratches his head before continuing, "four days ago. Presumably, the news has yet to reach the outskirts, but it is complete chaos in the heart of the Netherworld now." Zephyrus slides a hand across his face as he drearily mutters, "it's complete anarchy back there."

She lowers her head, eyes fixed onto the running creak again. His recount made perfect sense, especially considering the events of the day prior. "It should have reached the residents here." She pauses as her eyes drift closed and she softly whispers, "The news, I mean. We know now. The survivors, if there are any others..."

Pleinair trails off, and she picks up the Veggie Burger as a sad smile graces her lips. She looks at it solemnly before taking a tentative, small bite. It really was a Veggie Burger made by her mother just yesterday. A film of water glazes over her eyes again.

The ninja casts a perturbed, worried look in her direction. "What..." he asks cautiously, as if treading on hot coals. "What do you mean?"

She doesn't look up at Zephyrus again when she replies. "They're dead. Mother too."

And he just stares, stupefied at the bluntness of the comment, of its cruel straightforward simplicity. It was completely unadorned fact, as harsh and barbed as when it had struck her.

He recollects himself, and his voice thankfully sounds even as he asks, "How did it happen?"

She sighs and her hands, which are holding the burger, fall limp in her lap. "Dragons. Fire..." Pleinair helplessly shrugs. She finally turns to Zephyrus as the words suddenly pour from her lips, like a dam unsealed. "I don't know when it started. I was in the woods when it happened. By the time I noticed the screams and came out to the clearing..."

She shudders, and Zephyrus lifts a hand to her shoulder, prepared to tell her to stop. But she shakes her head and continues, "It was horrible. The fire was everywhere, the buildings were completely crushed, and all the villagers were—"

Pleinair collapses with her back against the grass, eyes clenched tightly shut against the flashing memories in her skull. "My mother was there," she says, her voice no more than a whisper. "She was there in the center, casting her healing spells over and over, but it didn't work. There was no way it would, there were so many of them. They all caught on fire." Her breath hitches, teeth gritting together once more as she forces out the next few words between her teeth. "She saw me. She told me to run. And so I—"

"—so you're here now."

"Yes." She looks at her burger, then back again at the ninja who was now taking his turn to stare into the waters. "Thanks for this. According to what you've said, you probably don't have much food to live by right now."

Zephyrus looks to the burger she is waving gently around in her hands. "No, it's nothing. I'm sorry to hear about your mother..." He trails off weakly, the barest traces of a questioning note in his voice.

She cocks an eyebrow, uncomprehending, before she shoots back up in a sitting position and cracks a small embarrassed smile. "Pleinair. Sorry for being so rude just before."

He returns the gesture and shakes his head gently. They fall silent as each set about to finish the simple meal. Minutes slip into hours, the sun sinks below the hills, and the brilliant sunset washes away to a pitch black. Neither of them move an inch from the spot beside the creek.

The darkened surroundings are so peaceful, and it provides a bitter contrast to the frightening roars of flame and vocals from the previous night. Crimson orbs become heavy with moisture, and she tries to stifle a sob as the tears begin to overflow once more.

She thought she had cried enough already. She had even fainted once from the sorrow, so there was no need for—

Zephyrus remains completely silent, still as a weathered boulder. He casts a furtive glance to the softly sobbing child and quickly looks away from her as she frantically wipes the corners of her eyes.

A few more seconds pass of her trying to muffle her crying and him pretending not to hear, before he states in a low voice, "There are tears for things."

She freezes briefly before narrowing the distance between them in a flash, and begins to sob without restraint into the dull green length of his scarf. He awkwardly places a comforting hand on her trembling shoulder, and they remain like that long into the night as all other living beings fall into silence—until the tears run dry, her quivering stops, and she passes out exhausted on the grass once more as sleep finally creeps onto the pair.

The first day passes by.