Glow

Crimson eyes peered up at the starlit sky as they traced a path along the stars. Over and over he traveled that same path, its endpoint being just yards from the Kirsla Training Facility.

"I thought you'd be here." a voice sounded, though it failed to stir him from his dream-like state. He acknowledged the presence with a quiet grunt and allowed the guest to join him under the dark abyss. There, on the brick training ground where men and women had lost blood and even their lives, the two lied there in an eerie peacefulness.

"You can't stay hidden forever, y'know." but the swordsman disregarded the statement, proving his own recklessness.

"I can try." he uttered, finally tearing his focus from the infinite space as the memory became bothersome. He then pushed himself to his feet and approached the balcony, where he oversaw the blackened crater he'd encountered a year ago. The visitor soon accompanied him and uttered more attempts to persuade his actions. Still, the man shook his head and ultimately demanded to be left alone. Once he got his wish, he took the long way home and hummed a lullaby he'd heard in his childhood. No one knew of this sentimental side and he planned to keep it that way, but that crater had somehow managed to surface memories he'd buried deep within his subconscious. He contemplated talking to someone about it, though he knew that'd cause him more grief than comfort. Living with this kind of pain for so long, it'd become a part of him and he wasn't sure he was ready to let that go.

"Lord Albel? Lord Albel."

The man awoke with a start, his clothes still dusty from last night's escapade. He sleepily turned towards the voice and noticed the maid in the doorway, who was now shriveling under his stare.

"U-Uh! S-Sir! There's a boy here for you! Named Kol?"

"...Kol?..."

He groaned as if he was still a teenager being woken up for training, but like any good soldier, he got out of bed. Combing his fingers through his two-tone hair, he proceeded down the marble staircase to meet a silver-eyed boy who was being held off by the guard at the door. The man allowed his entrance and the boy shyly approached him to reveal a woven basket from behind his back.

"Um, thanks for the other day!" he uttered, daring to meet his crimson eyes with his silver ones, "Um...I made this for you—well...with help from friends. I just made the basket." he explained as Albel removed the cloth to see the small blueberry muffins inside.

"...Ah...thanks..." he responded, his thoughts somewhat blurred from the abrupt awakening, "...So...you make baskets, eh? That's useful."

"...W-Well I'm a craftsman." the boy defended, picking up on his sarcasm, "I could fashion you a better sheath than that. If you want."

"Pft, good luck with that." Albel grumbled before waving him out, leaving the guard to handle him. Upon ascending to the second floor, the calloused swordsman set the basket on Woltar's desk and neglected to take any muffins for himself. He was more concerned about returning to bed, though his mind wouldn't settle. In the end, he grew tired of staring at the ceiling and decided to take a walk through town. Citizens expectedly shied away from him, but he wasn't one to socialize, anyway. That's why he wasn't exactly thrilled to see a familiar blue mess of hair wandering in from the direction of the Traum Mountains; he must've been looking for him.

"Albel!"

Fayt Leingod was his futuristic acquaintance from Earth. They'd saved the universe together and now he was living on Elicoor II with the rest of the team. However, because they resided in Greeton, it wasn't often that they ran into each other.

"Albel-"

Fayt reacted as he began to turn away.

"Albel, where is he?"

"He's long gone. Just forget about it like I'm trying to." however, the stubborn boy wouldn't drop the subject and his persistence was making his blood boil. If he hadn't respected him so much, he might've drawn his sword right there.

"Why is it so crucial that I reveal myself?"

"Because-" his hesitance earned him a look of triumph from the man, "—Albel! Why are you so afraid?"

"I'm not afraid, idiot! I'm disgusted." he scowled before snatching an apple up from the street vendor's supply. He tossed the woman a few coins and continued on his way, Fayt pushing past the crowd to keep up with him.

"Albel-" the swordsman growled at this, now facing the twenty-two year old with his paralyzing gaze just inches away.

"Fuck. Off. Leingod."

Fayt heeded his warning and Albel finally made his escape. He hoped he wouldn't find any of his former team mates in the midst of the cobble-stoned trading center of Peterny, but he remained cautious and covered himself with a cloak he'd bought at the local outfitter. Before last year, no one gave a damn about his mental health, why the hell did it matter so much now?