Neutral Tones
Chapter Four
"Where is he? Where's Nero?" Harlen barked to a few clansmen who he had called into his study.
"We don't know, sir. We haven't seen him since this morning." One of them said quietly.
Harlen fumed, tapping the top of his bonbon as he thought. He let a sigh escape his lips, "Fine. Bring Kara here. She'll know."
The men dispersed and were about to leave when Tashiro appeared in the doorway.
"That won't be entirely necessary. You see, a lot has happened in the never-ending game of love and war. I'm afraid young Kara won't be able to help." Izzy relayed.
Harlen gave Izzy a perplexed look and waved the others out of the room. Tashiro stepped aside as the men filed out.
"Sit." Harlen ordered plainly.
Izzy did so and folded an ankle over his knee. "Young Kara isn't the angelic little doll she appears to be." Izzy began, "She likes to play games. Dangerous games with the hearts of men, as it seems. She attempted to snare me, but I, thankfully, saw through her. Nero, however, wasn't so lucky. Kara was content on ruining Nero's life without him thinking she was. Somehow, Nero bought into her lies- perhaps not by his own fault.
"Nero is no idiot. He's clever, no doubt. But, with someone who is so self-centered, when said person has an outlet for trapped affection he latches on. Kara knew this and thus exploited it. There, of course, are still some variables, but, for the most part, Kara's deception of fair Nero left him rather vulnerable. When I told him the truth...Well, things got complicated."
"What's your point?" Harlen asked quietly as he patiently listened to Izzy.
"My point, sir, is that Nero is now weak emotionally. He may not be able to fight, quite plainly. If he does, though, it will be with anger, which could very well work to our advantage. It's a double edged sword in which it would be a gamble to wield."
Harlen let a long sigh escape his lips. "You know this to be true?"
"I do, sir. I witnessed it myself. I had a few words with Miss Kara, myself. I feel for him, Nero. I really do. A heart is a very hard aspect of a person to repair." Izzy admitted, slipping his hands into the opposite sleeves of his robe.
"So what action do you propose?" Harlen asked, leaning back in his chair.
"I say let fate take its course. This was meant to happen. The truth is something that can't be avoided forever and to make Nero try to suppress it...I think that would kill him even faster."
Harlen nodded. "It's decided then. We say nothing. I will leave it up to you to inform Nero of his battle. Make sure he is ready for it and make sure you keep Kara away from him. Nero is possibly our only chance at this...We can't lose him now."
Izzy stood, bowing to the moogle before exiting the study. Harlen, now alone, turned his chair around to look at a large map of Ivalice that spanned across his entire wall.
"Ivalice houses a great sorrow this day...How will she harbor it?" Harlen mused.
The morning sun peaked just over the horizon. Its light slid over the plains and revealed all that had laid in darkness. Nero sat on one of the many rocky ledges that lined the jagged terrain. His eyes watched his feet, which were gently tapping the edge of the rock. They held no emotion. They were empty, willing to take on the form of any emotion presented to him. Nothing came.
Nero's head was hung low, his face shadowed by his draping auburn hair. As the sun came, swallowing his figure, Nero let his eyes rise to the horizon.
Slowly, Nero let soft, gentle words leave his lips,
"Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrongs have shaped to me,
Your face, the God-cursed sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves..."
The words came so much easier to Nero, even in his listless state. The meaning held clear in his mind and gave him renewed vitality. The dream tried to warn him. Nero knew that now. Though it had arrived late, it consoled him slightly.
"Nero." Izzy's voice found the young man.
Nero didn't need to look to know who he was talking to, "...Thank you, Izzy..."
"Ugh," Tashiro was slightly surprised. He had expected Nero to hate him for ruining his perfect world and vision of Kara.
"...It's better this way. Fated, if that's what you want to call it." Nero continued, "I was blind...Foolish. I'm sorry you had to be tempted into it, though."
"Speak nothing of it." Izzy assured, sitting next to Nero. "I'm sure you would've done the same for any of us." Nero shrugged, "But, now we have something to address. Kara knows her fault, I made sure of that. I've also made sure that she keeps her distance from you and the issue you have to deal with. I know it must be scarring to hear, but you have to put your battle first. Kara has to be the last thing on your mind. You are the best we have on the open field. And, with only a few hours before we meet them, I need to know if you can fight..."
Nero let a small sigh escape his lips, his eyes transfixed on the rising sun. "...I can." He said slowly.
Izzy placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Nero. There are few men who still have that quality left in Ivalice. If this shall be the last we meet, let this parting be well made."
Nero stood, along with Izzy. The two clasped one another's forearms. "In this life, or the next, I'll have the pleasure knowing of honorable men." Izzy said offering a small smile.
Nero gave a small, understanding nod. He would have to put all of this behind him. Anything less would only hurt him further. The parted ways after heading back to the fort. Nero returned to his room as Izzy went back to meet with Harlen, as he had disclosed.
Nero tossed himself on his bed, trying to let his mind escape its own thoughts. He wanted to be empty. He wanted to not feel what meaningless pleasures his fragmented life brought, for the pain was far worse. Still, despite his efforts, Nero was plagued with the memory of the pain itself. It burned on the occasion. The small details of the events recurred in his mind, making him ever more languid.
He let a sigh escape his lips as he brushed the side of his cheek where a silent, unexpected tear had fallen. He glanced around his small quarters. His gaze fell upon his armor and weapons. The armor, which Nero barely ever bothered with, had been collecting dust over the few months of peace the clan had been enjoying. Now that it was broken, however, Nero made good to give it the deserved attention.
He lifted the light cuirass and grieves onto his bed, taking off his tunic and using it to remove the stubborn cloud of dust. In the reflection of the metal, Nero stared at the pale expression of himself. His long auburn hair was tousled and matted, his eyes an uncanny black surrounded by reddening veins. His eyes were sunken and cavernous compared to the rest of his sharp features, which now gave him the appearance of a madman. In a way, he liked this new look. Nero took one shaking hand and ran his thin fingers over the warped visage.
"…What have you done to yourself?" He asked his reflection, who furrowed his brow.
Nero set the armor aside, not wanting to look at himself any longer. He quickly polished his grieves over and stifled a yawn. His fatigue was catching up to him, though he knew he had much more work to do. He set his armor aside and took his two swords into his lap. He unsheathed his dagger, running a finger over the dulling edge. He had really neglected his equipment.
Taking a small whetting stone in hand, Nero set to making slow, short runs along the small cutting edge, soon doing the same to his long sword. Nero's work occupied him- and his thoughts- which helped his sanity to a degree. Though, as the morning wore into afternoon, Nero's work was completed and he was left with nothing.
He decided on sleep. He was sure Izzy or Harlen would wake him when the time came.
It hadn't been either of the two, nor had it been at the appropriate time.
He felt a gentle hand seemingly materialize on his shoulder and a soft and familiar voice followed.
"Nero..." it said quietly.
"Nero..." it repeated.
"Nero, wake up!"
Finally giving in, Nero's eyes opened slowly as they looked up into glacial pools. He felt the girl's blond hair tickle the side of his face as she bent over him with a broken smile.
He sat up immediately, moving back slightly as he recalled the voice and face to be Kara's.
"…What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, though he was more intrigued that she had made it around Izzy than anything.
"I know you must hate me…And I don't blame you…But I couldn't stand to not see you again."
"Why should I care what you want?" He asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The girl seemed taken aback by his cold demeanor, but forgave it and recomposed herself. "You shouldn't. I'm not asking you to…"
"Then why are you here?" He snapped before she could continue.
"Look at you, Nero…" She said, tears lining her eyes as she touched his pale, sunken face. "You look awful…"
Her touch was like poison to him, though he bared it against his better judgment.
"I don't expect forgiveness…But I can't live without telling you I was wrong; that I'm sorry; that I don't deserve to be happy; that if I could take back every moment of my life…And give it to you…I would."
Nero fell silent, letting her words blanket over him. His skin no longer repulsed her touch, but his heart still ripped within his chest. He didn't let any emotion show, even as she turned from him and left. Nero was left, sitting in the cold stillness of his room. His complexion slowly returned to him and Nero felt a small wave of warmth radiate through his body.
He left his room shortly after Kara was gone. Thoughts filled his mind and troubled emotions tugged at his heart. What Kara had said was both distressing and relieving, but, which side to stand on, Nero knew not. He was trapped between two emotions and separate priorities. As Nero meandered the corridors, letting his feet attempt to make their own way to the mess hall, that he was intercepted. Harlen stood against the cold stone of the fort, obviously waiting for him. The two walked the halls together for a short while, talking simply of life and of one another's experiences. Harlen was calm and now had a new understanding of this young man who, up until now, had been just another kid to him. Nero's demeanor and attitude had somewhat improved over the short time he had been alone. Company seemed more appealing to him and he no longer cared who the company was.
"What did Izzy say to Kara?" Nero asked, changing the subject abruptly.
Harlen was surprised at the sudden interest, but gave Nero no guff, "In all honesty, he said nothing to me about it. Why?"
"She seemed…empty."
"So she found you, did she?"
Nero nodded, not adding to the issue. He could feel the swell of emotion rising to his throat, despite his attempts to swallow it. Harlen noticed Nero's struggle and said very quietly, "There's no one around…I don't think they'll mind."
Hearing Harlen, Nero let himself breakdown. He slumped against the stone wall and slid down. Suppressed tears slid quickly down his cheeks, presenting room for new ones. Bottled emotions and a lifetime's sorrow now obtained the awaited freedom of exposure. Nero's whole body shook as he relieved himself of his growing burden. Harlen stood by, watching with understanding silence. Nero would have to console himself if he were to move past this point.
After a while, Nero's tears subsided and his body regained control of itself. Harlen extended a hand and helped lift Nero to his feet. The two, now knowing the time they had was beginning to wane, started back towards Nero's room. They came to his door, which was all the further Harlen went.
"I have to go meet with the moogle, Montblanc. I have arranged for your escorts, as well as an aide for your preparations. I will see you out in the field." Harlen explained before turning and heading back down the path. Nero watched as Mongo joined Harlen and both Syst and Lita Nerrta rounded the corner as they passed the pair.
Syst remained silent as he stood next to Nero's door. Lita, however, ushered Nero into his room and the two crossed the threshold. Syst closed the door behind them, keeping careful guard on the room.
Once inside, Lita stated her purpose, "Harlen asked me to help. So, here I am." Nero nodded, accepting the aid. He turned his back to her as she reached around his middle, gently undoing the buttons to his tunic. She slipped it off of him, letting her fingers trail down his back. Her touch was soothing and appealing to Nero, though he kept his mind where it rightfully belonged.
She wasn't ignorant of her captivating touch. Lita held many a heart's affections for her beauty and charm. She wasn't about to sway Nero, though, as she knew his condition was less than acceptable.
Lita lifted the cuirass and fitted the chest plate across his torso. She quickly tied the fastenings on each side and moved in front of him.
"…Thank you." Lita said as she toyed with the fastenings further, "Thank you for doing this…" She didn't let her eyes meet Nero's, but kept her head hung low.
"I don't have a choice." Nero sighed, looking up to the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander.
"We always have a choice…Harlen couldn't have done anything to make you fight…But I'm glad you are. I don't want to lose my sister and I don't want my sister to lose me. I know this isn't fair for you, but…"
"Don't worry." Nero said and Lita let her eyes meet his, "I've never been on the fortunate side of fair."
Lita worked in silence for a while as she crouched lower to put his grieves on. She moved behind him, tying knots into the rough leather string that would hold them in place. When she had finished, Lita took his belt and weapons. She wrapped her arms around his middle, letting her fingers trail across his abdomen, as she fitted his belt. She felt every contour even through the rough chain mail as her hands moved around his waist. She tied the belt, leaving a small strip of the material to hang at his side.
Lita moved in front of him again, taking both swords in hand. She strapped the long sword to his left side and the dagger to his right.
"Is that right?" She asked quietly, glancing up at Nero shortly, who gave a nod. "Good. I think we're almost done."
"What else do I need?" Nero asked, feeling fully equipped as he was.
Lita hummed as she paced around Nero, examining him. Nero's eyes tried to follow the girl until she disappeared behind his back. Again, she moved in front of Nero. Lita let a small sigh escape her lips as she examined a small black crest in the center of Nero's chest plate. She traced her fingers over its image.
"What's it for?" She asked, not looking to Nero.
"…It was my grandfather's- the emblem of the Tenpouin clan. It's the one trace of my family you will find on me. Tenpouin is a name I dropped, however."
"Why?"
"It's a name I don't deserve. Tenpouin was the name of a knight; not a thief." Nero said with a small shrug.
Nero's eyes cast down to his feet and his head sagged towards the ground. Lita lifted his head with two gentle fingers, looking hard into his eyes. She stood on her tiptoes, letting her lips touch his. Nero's surprise was mostly inward. His stomach did a back flip as his heart tore within his chest. Still, he didn't fight her. Lita let the kiss endure until Nero finally returned her kiss. When she got that, she broke away.
Nero's eyes were blankly searching for some type of motive for the girl's actions. Lita said nothing, but slowly moved past Nero and to his door. Before passing the threshold, she murmured, "I'm sorry…I know it's not what you needed."
Lita left with Syst, and Nero shortly followed after them. The three walked the halls until Izzy joined them with the other Nerrta sister. Other members joined soon after until a multitude of the clan was marching around Nero, escorting him to the plains of the Jagds. A sign of respect.
The wide double door of the fort's main entrance swung open. The sun flooded over the crowd of people and fell on Nero, seemingly using him as a focal point for her energy. The clan marched over the uneven terrain. Nero's head stayed to the ground, watching his feet. He matched their pace as they formed a ring around him. The crest of a final hill served as their resting spot. They could see clear to the horizon, which was shrouded by a black silhouette. Three smaller figures stood in the center of a flatted plain.
Harlen and Mongo stood with Montblanc. After a short while, the two parties separated and made their ways back to the clans. Harlen reached Nero with patience.
"Remember," Harlen said as Nero dropped to one knee, "this match means nothing. Just try to stay alive."
Nero smiled, though it was mostly inward. The clan parted as Nero started away from Harlen and down the hill. When it leveled off, he drew his long sword. His opponent stood ready before him. He was human, as Nero was. Under a steel helm, blonde, matted hair was still visible. Pale blue eyes stared curiously at Nero, wondering what to expect from this warrior. He took off his helmet slowly, letting his features show.
"I'm Marche. What's your name, fighter?" He asked as a form of introduction.
"You're too formal…" Nero sighed, "The name's Nero…I take it that you, Marche, are the strongest your clan has to offer?"
The young man let his eyes fall to the ground. "Not really." He said quietly, "In fact, I don't think I'm that strong at all. But, it's my job to bring you down and that's what I intend to do."
Nero chuckled lightly, "That's good. That's real good." His eyes flashed with a fiery blaze as he smoothed back his hair. "But you're fighting an arena combatant, my friend. I've been fighting all my life. Since I was a kid, I've wielded a sword. You look like you could barely parry a fencer. How do you expect to win?"
Marche glanced up at Nero, grimacing under his gaze. "Because I can't lose…I won't allow it. I will make it home. I will find a way to do it…Somehow."
"You're in over your head boy. I hope you don't have anyone waiting for you…'Cause they won't see you step out of here alive." Nero said, taking his sword in hand.
Nero slowly paced forward. His sword hung loosely in his hand. Marche took his helmet from the hilt of his own blade, which was buried in the ground, and placed it firmly on his head. With little strain March lifted the blade from the ground. Now the two circled one another- each set of eyes focused on the other.
They looked for small signs- a twitch of the eye, a hesitating hand, anything that would give away the other's intentions. Without warning, Nero lunged forward, twisting his sword in varied directions in swift, yet powerful combinations. The series of blows caught Marche off guard and it was all he could do to parry the attacks. Finally, Marche's retreat stopped as his foot ground into the dirt behind them. Their two blades clashed against each other, holding together for a time.
"Heh, can you feel it? Can you feel the strain on your body? The power this place takes from you?" Nero said darkly.
It was true. The aura of the Jagds themselves was enough to slow one's movements. Still, Marche wouldn't accept this fact. "You don't understand…" Marche said quietly, lowering his blade until the hilts met. Marche pushed off of his back leg and threw Nero's blade back.
Marche now spun his own web of steel. He stepped forward, gaining ground ever so quickly. His speed increased with each passing strike and parry. His strength seemed abnormal. After a short minute, which seemed so much longer to Nero, he managed to sidestep one of the blows and slide Marche's sword along the backside of his own. Marche's momentum carried him forward and past Nero, who took advantage of the moment. He sent a swift elbow into the warrior's back.
Marche doubled over. His sword left his hands as his hands flexed from the sudden rush of pain. He knelt on the ground, gasping for breath. Nero shouldered his blade as he sent Marche flying backwards with a powerful kick.
"Gah!" Marche rolled across the rough ground. He slowly brought his quivering body to stand upright.
Nero was waiting patiently. A content smile played at his features. Marche collected his blade slowly, wanting to regain as much of his strength as he could. He stood in front of Nero, his body controlled and his breathing calm.
"Good. Now," Nero sighed as he readied his blade, "entertain me."
Marche answered his request. He charged forward, lunging and slashing in varied manners. His attacks were angular and nearly impossible to read even with Marche's slowed pace. Still Nero deflected them. With a mighty clash that resounded through the valley, their swords came together at the hilts. Nero took a powerful step forward, hoping to be opposed. Marche had other plans. He followed Nero's movements and took a wide step back and sunk lower in his stance. The sudden movement unbalanced Nero, which gave Marche the advantage he needed. He kicked up, throwing the hilt of his sword skyward and letting it collide with Nero's jaw.
The move shocked Nero as he quickly stepped back. He ran two fingers along his jaw line, feeling warm liquid dripping from a two inch cut. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to drain him slightly.
"That's good." Nero complimented, "You fight well. Tell me- what drives you to such lengths? What makes you fight? Every man has a reason. What's yours, friend?"
Marche who had stayed silent through all of Nero's banter, answered quietly, "I…want to go home…But I can't do that without being strong. I have to be strong enough to protect those closest to me…" His thoughts all the while wandered to a girl still vivid in his memories. "I'm sure you have people you wish to protect. I think you can agree with me on the point that you can't avoid conflict to do it."
Nero nodded as he continued. "Ritz is someone I want to protect more than anything in this world. She and I are not closer than friends, but…" He searched for the words he wanted, "…I promised myself I wouldn't leave this land without her."
"Ah, so there's a woman involved. What is a warrior without such a passion? Well, I believe we've prolonged this battle enough. Let's say we finish this?" Nero sighed.
"Agreed."
Both charged simultaneously. Their swords clashed in an array of sparks. Their bodies joined as their swords did, and then their momentums carried them apart only to be brought back together. Nero weaved his most intricate and complex series of strikes and stances. He melded them together, making surprising inventions and techniques.
Marche parried each strike and soon the two were combining their defense with their attack. Finally, with one mighty blow, Marche knocked Nero's blade from his hand and sent a fist to connect with his jaw. Nero doubled backwards. He knelt down, cursing as he felt a small split on his lower lip. Marche moved into a lower stance, almost taunting Nero.
Nero sighed and lifted his sword from the dirt. He fired hot glares at Marche, who stayed calm and unwavering in his pose. Nero charged, lifting his sword above his head before swinging it down on Marche with tremendous force.
Before Nero could stop himself—it happened.
Marche quickly reached over his back with his free hand and drew a short sword. With it, he kicked upwards, throwing Nero's sword back over his head. In one, fluid motion, Marche ran his cold steel through Nero's abdomen.
Both stood still, almost in disbelief at what had chanced. Slowly, however, Marche withdrew his blade and Nero slumped onto his opponent's shoulder. Marche caught him with one hand as he abandoned his short sword. A hushed silence filled the Jagds and for a while no one moved.
Kara had finally managed to work her way through the crowd, fearing the worst. When she crested the hill, her eyes fell on the pair. She saw Nero's sword abandoned and the enemy supporting Nero's limp form. A cry shattered the cold silence of the valley.
"NERO---!"
Kara sprinted down the hill. Her momentum, along with the steepness of the hill, caused her to stumble and fall a short ways down. She ignored the pain and the small cut on her lip. Marche saw the girl running for him. Slowly, Marche attempted to lay Nero down, but he refused weakly.
Nero pulled himself up. He turned on weak legs, facing Kara who still ran for him. He attempted to take a step towards her, but felt his strength leave him and his knees struck the ground. Slowly, Nero fell backwards almost simultaneous when Kara collapsed next to him. The girl fumbled slightly, tears streaming her unusually pale face. She touched Nero's wound, feeling the blood seep around her fingers.
"Nero…" She whimpered weakly through choked breaths. "…Nero, I'm so sorry…" She cried into his chest, wishing she could do more. She knew there was nothing to help him now. Nothing in the Jagds could be undone.
Nero's trembling hand cupped against Kara's pale cheek making her lift her gaze. Suddenly, Nero felt a familiar chill surround him. He glanced to his side, seeing the lake, now unfrozen, in its stillness. The snow around him was now dyed crimson with his blood. The trees still retained their life, however. The sun was returned to its brilliant white color.
Kara's eyes slowly followed Nero's. "…What is this place?" She asked.
It struck Nero as odd that he now shared his dreams with her. Still, he didn't wish to waste his limited energy on thinking. "…This…ugh…is my dream. This is where I first saw what we were…" He explained weakly.
"Shh…" Kara attempted to hush him, though he refused her.
Nero's next words came slowly to him. The wind whispered into his ears, filling him with what needed to be said.
"We stood by the pond that winter day,
The sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod
-They had fallen from an ash and were grey.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove,
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And a few words played between us, to and fro,
On which were lost all the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing,
Alive enough to have the strength to die,
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
-Like an ominous bird awing.
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrongs have shaped to me,
Your face, the God-cursed sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves."
The last stanza was a struggle for Nero, as his breaths came in short supply. Still, he managed it and Kara took its meaning very clearly. "I'm so sorry, Nero…" Kara apologized again, lying her head in the crook of his neck.
Her body shook uncontrollably. Nero gently turned her head to look at him as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his steadily chilling lips to hers. Soon after, the trees began to whisper a different truth. A truth Kara had hoped never came to pass until now.
"Now, with everything revealed… his sorrow becomes her sorrow…. Her life falls with his…" They repeated this for both lovers to hear.
Nero held longingly onto Kara until his final breath escaped him and his head fell back to the ground. His hands slowly traced down Kara's arms, taking hold of her trembling hands with his final ounce of strength.
Slowly, the trees began to wither. Their leaves blew gently out onto the unfrozen lake. The ripples formed around two unmistakable entities. Two lovers' souls stood shoulder to shoulder, overlooking the tragic scene before them. Slowly they turned, facing the horizon. Taking hand in hand, they stepped lightly across the water and towards the sun. The ripples slowly faded as their lives did.