Title: Last Dance of Chances

By: Aina Song

Fandom(s): Radiata Stories

Genre: Yaoi

Rating: NC-17 (Um… eventually…)

Warning(s): Tonight, on the Warning Channel - Language; Death; Depression; Direct Quotes; Altered Scenes… Slight chance of OOC, major OOC to follow. Back to you, Bill.

Pairing(s): Flau + Jack + Ridley; Jack/Gil

Reviews: Yes, please.

Author's Note: Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. The game had its rules and specific plot points, but just so you know… I intend to break a whole mess of them with this one!

Teaser: What might've happened, had Ridley not survived that blood orc's attack? The Golden dragon will demand a vessel, regardless. Meanwhile, Jack is haunted by dreams of another life, a darker path…

Chapter Seven - Unpleasant Memories

"Wow," Flau murmured in awe as Jack stepped out of his apartment. "You look… really good."

Smiling self-consciously, Jack Russell smoothed his hands down the front of his new attire. Its first layer consisted of a skin-tight full-body leotard of brown stretch leather. Bronze knee-guards and a thick plate of the same metal over his upper torso was its second layer. The third and last layer were a pair of thick brown leather high boots, a pair of shining bronze gauntlets, and a tunic.(1) Said tunic was what drew the eye, Jack mused - pale purple in color, lined with fine trims of silver, with wide short sleeves, a dramatically pointed lower hem, and a thin strip of leather belted around his waist…

And every bit of it - the leather, the bronze pieces, the tunic - all of it had been magically imbued with the same element as his blade. His entire body had tingled as he was donning the armor, as though he was blushing warmly from the roots of his hair to the tips of his fingers and toes. Yet his body had swiftly calmed; his blood now swam through his veins in calm contentment. As it had been with his blade, it was as though he had reunited with a long-forgotten friend, and yet he knew their performance would be well in synch with each other.

"No, really," Flau insisted when he had failed to reply. "Jack, you're absolutely stunning. I only hope you don't treat that armor the way you've been treating the rest of your clothes, because I don't think you can afford another one."

His smile made a truer return as he secured his blade to his back. He knew, without needing to be told, that this armor would need very little maintenance. Like his blade, it was made of stronger stuff than it appeared.

Flau leapt down from the wall of his stone stairs, stepping down to throw herself to him in one of her customary enthusiastic embraces. "I have to go; I have to talk to my bosses before they get wind of what Lunbar did without their permission."

"Good luck," he whispered sincerely, arms tightening around her once before he released her.

"Same to you," she replied. And then she was gone, loping over the bridge and out of sight like a rabbit would dart beneath the shrubbery.

~o~

"Well, don't you look impressive," Jarvis greeted as Jack entered the Hecton squad room. "It's just as well," he continued as Jack sat down, "since we've received a new assignment. And this one takes us straight to the castle."

Daniel's eyes widened with curiosity and anticipation. Jack, however, was not so eager to return to where the worst of his memories lay in wait for him. "Why?" He softly demanded of his sergeant.

Jarvis shrugged, but his answer at least was more enlightening than his manner. "Apparently, we're to act as bodyguards to one of the nobles. We're to learn who, once we arrive."

"A noble," Daniel sighed in awe, considerably more excited about this mission than he had been about the last one. "One of the royals?"

"I don't know," Jarvis shook his head. "But the warrior guild is always receiving requests like this. The job might have required more strength than our small number can offer, but as we're not well-reputed enough to stand out too much, the chief and her second-in-command decided we make the best pick."

Jack decided that to comment on that last part would be unwelcome and rude. He knew well why a drunkard sergeant and his clumsy subordinate might not earn the kind of reputation that had been bestowed upon the other squads. Jack tried to do well for their squad, but the Hecton did not consist of him alone.

"Come on," his sergeant commanded, rising from the table. Jack and Daniel followed suit. "Let's go see who'd be so desperate," Jarvis suggested grimly.

~o~

It was the Royal Princess, herself.

Jack knew from the moment he saw her that she was trouble. Claiming 'Arnold' as a pseudonym, insisting upon touring though every public street of the city… It was no great wonder when she took a corner before them and found herself abducted by a pair of bandits. Jack raced after her, fervently hoping that he was not chasing after any of Flau's more honorable acquaintances.

Jarvis's binging habits and Daniel's inexperience forced them to drop behind in the chase, and Jack had had to wait out a frustrating handful of minutes before they could catch up to him outside an abandoned house. With Jarvis' permission, they followed into the house, only to discover a tunnel that led down into the sewers of the city itself - and an ambush.

The battle was swift. Easy. But Daniel foolishly rushed headlong into an obvious attack and was knocked unconscious. While the bandits ran off, Jack refused to be moved until he could be allowed a moment to check Daniel over. And he breathed a sigh of much relief. Though the blow had brought to Jack a disturbing sense of déjà vu, Daniel had fared better than had his late brigade-member. Only a rather large bump to the skull; Daniel would awake, with a headache but alive.

Jack informed to Jarvis that he had had to explore the sewers twice already on solo missions, and his sergeant agreed that they would navigate faster through its tunnels if Jack took the lead. He tracked the bandits too well, perhaps, for at the end of the trail awaited another ambush. For his part, Jack fought back savagely, but they had already stolen the upper hand. He and his sergeant were roped to chairs and treated to quite a beating.

Jack's memory of that dark hour was blurred and hazed. He had taken many bare-fisted blows to the head, and so was understandably disoriented by the time he heard their captors murmur in alarm. Lifting his head, he squinted through the blood of a split eyebrow to identify their rescuer. Though he had only ever seen the man during his test to join the warrior guild, Jack immediately recognized Gerald, the second-in-command.

The eye-patched man dared the leader of their captors with a sharp look and an even sharper tongue. In his hands were two blades, one larger than the other, his favored weapons. His very presence was formidable. Yet it seemed their captors' leader was somewhat immune; with two confident steps forward, he thrust his own blade forth - piercing through Gerald's leather armor and finding purchase in the stomach it was meant to protect.

Jack's eyes blurred further as Gerald sank to the floor, and within seconds his own head fell forward as he drifted into black nothingness.

When next he awoke, he thought it strange that he was no longer uncomfortable. He blinked his eyes open, swiftly taking note that the chair and ropes that had bound him had been replaced by a thin cot and linen sheets. Someone had taken the liberty of dressing his wounds, he noted wryly as his fingers cautiously felt at the bandages wrapped around his brow. It was perhaps that same someone that had stripped him of his armor - which now lay upon the seat of a chair beside his cot - and dressed him in simple white nightclothes.

Jack pushed up on his elbows, glancing around. Though he had never visited this room, he knew immediately that it must be the warrior guild's own small infirmary wing. In the cot beside him, Jarvis was very slowly regaining consciousness as well, and in a cot across the floor…

"S-sir…?"

Gerald paused in the midst of another sit-up, resting his arms atop raised knees as he tossed Jack a crooked grin. His eye patch was missing; his scarred left eye was milky white. "You sound as though you're about to have a heart attack, boy."

Jack tried to swallow, "A-are you all right? I saw that bandit's sword…"

"He deliberately avoided hitting me anywhere vital," the man shrugged, though there was a heated light in his good eye. "Toying with me."

It was then that there came a knock on the infirmary door, which finally coaxed Jarvis to come awake. He blinked owlishly at their second-in-command, but said nothing as Chief Elwen herself came into the room. Gerald attempted to stand in her presence, but she waved him down again. "Though the princess was safely returned, the higher-ups are not pleased with Theatre Vancoor. The reputation of the warrior guild has been compromised. I'm afraid we'll have to act swiftly if we hope to redeem ourselves."

"What do you want me to do?" Gerald asked of his only superior.

"No," the woman kindly shook her head. "I'm sorry, but it's time at last that you take on a successor. Let Jack do this for us."

Jack stared, certain he had misheard. "Me?"

"You kept a clear head throughout this last assignment, when more experienced men might have lost themselves to anger or distress," Elwen explained, turning in his direction. "And your streak of success over so many solo missions leads me to believe that you are overdue for a bit of acknowledgement."

"But, I-"

"Jack Russell," she patiently went on. "You are hereby a sergeant of Theatre Vancoor. Gerald will instruct you on everything a sergeant needs to know, and I myself will select candidates for your new squad."

"But what about the Hecton?" He asked, glancing apologetically toward Jarvis.

His former sergeant gave a weak laugh, seeming to struggle with his own disbelief. "We'll be fine without you, kid. Daniel and I will just have to make do like we did before you'd ever arrived. Don't worry."

~o~

He was not being given a choice.

Late that night, Jack returned home to find Flau waiting outside his door. He did not mention his mission; he knew that she would have learned of it in her own way by now. But his heart wrenched as he explained his promotion and the assignment they had dropped upon him this time.

Flau's spunky smile had turned into a pretty little pout by the time he'd finished. "But you're my friend, Jack. And if you're caught trying to uncover the secrets of the Void Community-"

"I know," he sighed. "We could be forced to fight each other."

"Don't do it. Please."

"I can't just turn up nothing, Flau. They'd start to get suspicious, and then I'd be investigated…"

Her lips pressed together in a grim line, but she nodded that she understood what Jack had left unsaid. Their friendship would be discovered, and then Jack would be suspected of spying for the bandit guild. His loyalties would be tested, and if he did not meet with satisfaction, he could be turned out of the city. Worse, he could be imprisoned. Or simply executed.

After much debate, the night passing on without them, they at last came upon a likely solution. Flau, one of her superiors' favorites, would explain that a friend on the outside was in danger of being discovered. It was not a lie, and so long as Jack's name was not mentioned there would be no questions asked. She would explain Jack's situation to them, in as little detail as possible, and suggest to her superiors that he be supplied with false information.

Flau's superiors were dangerously clever. They could invent information that would ring strong and true to inexperienced ears. Jack would on occasion report in with this false information, and none would suspect its nonsense.

Relieved that they had found the answer, Flau and Jack bade each other good night even as the skies were graying with twilight. Flau left immediately to put their plan into action, and Jack went into his apartment to catch a few hours' sleep.

For the next handful of weeks, it seemed to work. Jack reported in to Gerald's office every morning in case there was some extra assignment for him, and every third afternoon he gave his false report to Elwen herself. His squad had been given the name Acht, and though he had yet to accept any recruits, his own growing reputation set high expectations.

Jack continued to take on solo missions, finding his new freedom as a sergeant to mean that he could take on as many as he wanted, as often as he wanted. He was challenged by a woman named Ursula, once by accident, the next time deliberately. Both times Jack tested the strength of her golem, and both times left the woman frustrated over her own failures. He helped a servant named Sebastian save his master Star from a magic armor that had taken him over. At one point, he felt reckless enough to accept an anonymous challenge, and knew no surprise when it turned out to be a trap set up by a small number of country bandits.

One particular favor left him morosely sullen after he returned home. One of the dwarves of Earth Valley had knocked upon his door. The knights of Radiata Castle had been sent to that dignified valley, not on a journey of peace, but to ruthlessly ambush the dwarves and slaughter them all. Jack and the dwarf that had escaped had arrived upon the cliffs overlooking the valley only in time to witness as the majestic Earth dragon suddenly appeared in the dwarves' defense. Jack's heart had raced with strong hope and something else he could not name - but it was for naught. The dragon had been vanquished, and when Jack looked hard enough he had recognized the captain Cross Ward, whom Jack had only met directly after Ridley had received a blood orc's attack. And then, despite Jack's pleas to the opposite, the dwarf that had escaped descended into the valley, to be captured and slain with the rest of his kind.

That night, Jack tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find sleep. He had witnessed the death of a race. As significant and saddening as that had been, it paled when put next to what else he had witnessed. The death of a dragon.

Jack's own father had witnessed the same, more than a decade past. More than that, Cairn Russell had been the one to deliver the killing blow. The Water dragon, a two-headed beast of grace and power, had fallen to Cairn's blade. It was rumored that Cairn himself had died that same day.

Jack had long cherished his mother's memories of his father, but he had never been proud of Cairn's final act. And now, after witnessing the death of the Earth dragon, Jack's heart broke to realize the depth of the cruelty in which his father had indulged. Guilt overwhelmed him, even as he fell asleep, and his dreams echoed his despair.

Gleaming violet scales disappeared between the cliffs, and the deafening echo of a dying roar filled the skies. Jack shuddered as the dragon's corpse crashed among the rocks below, but he forced himself to turn away.

Blind to his inner turmoil, a shadow stepped up behind him and dropped a gauntleted hand to his shoulder. "Well done, Jack," a deep voice strongly praised near his ear. "You have slain the dragon. Just like Sir Cairn before you."

But Jack was not listening. He watched as the startlingly blue eyes of a pale light elf turned in his direction. The purity of the color in those eyes were now clouded with much pain, yet still the elf narrowed them in an attempt to focus their weakening sight. Lips parting to draw in a shaky breath, the elf spoke in a voice that had lost nearly all of its music, all of its lyrical strength. "D-did you say… C-Cairn…?"

Jack shrugged the shadow's hand from his shoulder and carefully drew closer. His heart raced as he watched the light elf follow his progress with eyes that had already lost their clarity. "Cairn Russell was my father's name," he confessed, though he could not say why. "He destroyed the Water dragon."

Those eyes widened with surprise. And then chills ran down Jack's spine as the light elf suddenly gave a breathless laugh, a soft chuckle that shook the elf's weakened form. Jack could not understand. The elf was wasting what little breath he had… to laugh? "W-what's so funny," he quietly demanded.

"The i-irony," the elf gasped. He closed his hauntingly blue eyes, shaking his head. "F-fate plays such t-tricks…"

Jack awoke with a start. He dropped back to his pillow with a low groan, yet he refused to return to sleep, instead waiting for the morning sun to appear outside his window.

~o~

Chief Elwen called Jack into her office that afternoon. "I have some good news for you," she announced. She lifted up a sheet of parchment from her desk. "This is a list of names. Gerald has looked into each of them for me, and I'm pleased to approve your pick of any of them for your squad."

Jack obediently looked over the list. He recognized the names of Olacion priests, Vareth students, even a few citizens that had tried out for knighthood and been turned away. Sighing, he set the list down again upon Elwen's desk. "No."

"Jack?"

"I don't want any of them. I'm content to wait a while longer before forming my squad."

The woman sat in silence for several seconds, but then she nodded her consent. "Very well, Sergeant Jack. The Acht squad shall be put on hold until you deem any candidates worthy to fill it."

Jack left his superior's office with much relief. Though he had not said it aloud, he truly did not wish to form the Acht into a true squad. He was much more comfortable working alone, so that he did not have to compensate for anyone's weakness but his own. Anyway, he was still deceiving Elwen and her second-in-command into thinking that he was constantly investigating the Void Community. A ruse that would prove difficult to maintain if he was forced to bring someone along with him.

Elwen continued to call him back into her office after that, with list after list of potential candidates. Each time, she left the decision to him. Each time, Jack refused them all as politely as he could manage. His insistence to work alone did not go unnoticed for long, and rumors began to circle about the only sergeant of the warrior guild to go so long without a squad.

Jack couldn't care less. He had his reasons.

One day, everything changed. He received a letter from Genius Weissheit, who had assisted the Rose Cochon during their final mission into the elflands. It bode terrible news indeed - Lord Nogueira, the dark elf leader, had succumbed to the rare but dangerous algandars disease. He did not survive.

Late that night, Flau propped her fists upon her hips as she watched Jack move about his apartment. "You can't be serious."

Jack continued to gather his belongings without pause. He had never felt completely whole since Ridley's death, and now the elf that had attempted to save her had died as well. The least he could do was to visit Nogueira's brother and pay his respects. And, anyway…

"Something is telling me I have to do this, Flau," he tried to explain one more time. "Even if I'm turned away at the door, I have to try to get into the City of Flowers. With everything that's happened - the dwarves' massacre, the death of the Earth dragon, and now this - I can't help but think the place for me to be now is in the elflands."

"But, why?"

"I don't know," he confessed, finally shouldering his duffel. "Maybe I'm wrong. But I really don't think I belong in Radiata anymore."

Flau's stared at him for a long moment, but then rushed after him as he stepped out his door. "Then I'm coming with you!"

That certainly gave him pause. He stared as the spunky bandit swept around him to block his path. "What do you mean?"

"Well, someone's got to look out for you," she smirked. "And I could use the vacation."

He hesitated, but could not deny that he would welcome her lively presence. Sighing, he nodded. "So long as you promise to be careful. I mean it," he went on, cutting her off when it became clear she was about to protest. "I don't want to lose another friend, Flau."

Her objections had been effectively silenced. With an uncharacteristically soft smile, she nodded her agreement.

And so it was that Jack Russell, with Flau Demure at his side, left behind him the city of Radiata and its penchant for stirring up unpleasant memories.

1) The Wind Garb. And yes, I ditched the shorts. He's sixteen years old; all those outfits with shorts made him look like an overgrown child.