Complications
by Aizhen Aschenhimmel
As flat as a hammerfalled disclaimer could be: I own not RO.
Chapter 1
He only had a name to start with. Ascena. No last name. A name, a face, in a city of hundreds, possibly thousands.
The sun was setting in the west, low behind the white walls of Aldebaran. The Clock Tower chimed at a distance, a deep, rumbling toll, not much different from the sound of Prontera's bells. Some looked and pointed at the old structure in wonder, while the rest moved on to their business, oblivious.
Faurais simply looked at the tower, not really seeing it. He leaned against the low canal wall, the water lapping gently against the white brick, thinking deeply.
He didn't consider himself to be the impatient sort, but his search was leading him into blind circles and frustrating dead-ends. He had asked questions, led into embarrassing situations and all he had was a vague confirmation that yes, there had been an Ascena who lived in Aldebaran a long time ago. And that was it. Tales began to vary wildly from there. She was a merchant who sold gems, no, a mage from Juno who studied the Clock Tower like any other. She was a daughter of a shoemaker. She was highborn and hiding from a determined lover. She was a noble's kept woman. She was a dancer. She was so many more, and Faurais knew all of them were lies.
He had expected it, yes, but confronting it face to face was entirely something else.
He imagined what could've happened if he hadn't discovered the truth. He wouldn't be here, first of all, weary and discouraged. It was easier being the ignorant heir, he mused dully. He stared at the rosary in his hands, a rich thing of polished jet beads and filigreed silver. The single feather engraved at the back of the crucifix, enameled in black, reminded him of the comfortable life he had left behind. Easier in ignorance, but a nagging madness made him take the harder way of truth.
His grandfather had been adamant on his decision not to allow him to leave the city. It was much too dangerous for the sole heir of House Despar, not with the uproar his cardinal grandfather had inadvertently caused by refusing Juno's request. Faurais didn't care a pinch about that. He considered himself removed from Cardinal Belfan Despar's complex world of politics and religion. They shouted, argued, quarreled almost to the point of physical harm...and the grandson relented in a sullen apology. Things gradually returned to normal. A fortnight later Faurais was slipping out of the mansion in the dead of the night, his destination Aldebaran...'enemy territory' as his grandfather would've called it.
There was a trace of guilt in defying the old man's orders though. After all, it was for his safety. The heir's safety, he reminded himself. He hastily pocketed the rosary and pushed himself away from the wall. And I'm no heir.
His father was the heir, a corpse of three months. In the ceremonious ritual that had been his funeral, Faurais felt a sincere and heartfelt sorrow for the man's passing. The older servants in the mansion told him of a kind man, soft-spoken and always with a gentle smile. Others talked of a healer whose talents bordered on the miraculous. Relatives whispered about how his wife's death took the joy out of him, leaving a lifeless shell. A wife's death...Faurais knew the whole of it. A wife's death and a son's birth.
He only met a dispirited man who never emerged from the depths of depression.
It was dark now, and the streetlights were flickering to life. He decided it was time to return to the inn where he was staying.
Should I continue this? It was a belated doubt, a part of him still holding back, but he knew the answer. It was too late to back out now. He had to do it...and do it quickly. Cardinal Despar wouldn't let his heir disappear like that.
He inwardly sighed. So complex. He only wanted to know...and he has no idea what to do with the truth, of what to do after finding it. Could he return to Prontera? The mansion barely felt like home, and so was the world his grandfather moved in. Where could he go? Schwartzvald was an entirely different world...and one of hostility, if he would believe the news. Three days in Aldebaran and he was sure people were simply overreacting, and that the old man's concerns were unfounded. He had yet to hear of a priest murdered, a monk stoned to death or a crusader crushed in a riot (which the people in Prontera constantly talked of). He had been wandering around in his robes and nobody paid him special attention, He liked it that way.
Rounding a corner, he felt something knock against his shoulder. He looked up.
The wild spikes of bright blonde hair, golden even in the twilight dimness, made Faurais blink. "Pardons," the man mumbled. The priest nodded once and walked on. An absentminded passerby...but he had the unnerving sensation of being watched as he left. He recalled the stranger's darting blue eyes, the way it swept from head to toe...
A thief? His hand automatically went for his pocket. The cold kiss of engraved silver met his fingers - he might not be the heir, but this rosary was important for another reason - and he was relieved...wait.
Looking down at his side he realized that he hadn't hidden the rosary properly. The crucifix hung from his pocket in plain sight, the black feather catching the lamplight.
...
A/N: Firsties again, thanks to my beta, Klein, and to Attic-window, who reviewed. Fau is angsty to the point of inaction, yes. Reviews would be appreciated and cherished :D