Disclaimer: I do not own LOD or anything related to it.
Author's Note: Thanks to Skibinigagen for putting up a review on the last chapter, and for putting the story on your favorites. Sorry about the wait…again.
"Come on, sleepyhead. Wake up."
A soft voice cut through the black fog of sleep that Syuveil's mind, a small hand gripped his shoulder and shook him, jerking him to awareness. Startled, he grabbed instinctively behind his back for his glaive before remembering he'd set it down in the corner. He rubbed his eyes as Damia giggled, a piping, birdlike trill that was not at all unpleasant to hear.
"Nice to have you with us again," Damia said, a grin on her face, trying not to laugh again.
Syuveil yawned and stretched, trying to ease the pain in his back that came from sleeping in a hard wooden chair. "I guess I dozed off while you were gone," he said groggily, still not quite coherent yet. "It's been a long day."
"It took longer than I thought to get the food," Damia remarked apologetically. "There was a slight disagreement about the price of some fruit." She set the bag she was carrying down on the floor. "Give me a bit, and we'll have fish and some apples for dinner."
A short time later, as the sun was beginning to set on the horizon, they were all three seated around the table, eating. It took a concerted effort on Syuveil's part not to lose control and erupt into tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a real meal. He'd been living on slave slop for so long he'd almost forgotten what actual food tasted like. He ate ravenously, every bite that he chewed and swallowed feeling like the best thing in the world. Beside him, Kanzas was tearing into his food in a similar fashion. Damia watched them both with slight incredulity.
"Hungry, are we?" she asked. Syuveil nodded, his mouth too full of fish to speak. "You must not have had many chances to eat during your journey," Damia remarked.
"What?" Syuveil asked, confused.
"You said you were travelers from Gloriano," Damia said.
"Oh," Syuveil said, remembering his lie. "No, we haven't eaten a lot."
"Where in Gloriano are you from?"
"Um…it's up in the northern part," Syuveil said evasively. "It's a rather small village, most people haven't heard of it."
"What's it called?"
"Well, we never really gave it a name."
Damia was beginning to look suspicious, making Syuveil uneasy. They would have enough trouble avoiding Wingly search parties without anyone else knowing they were escaped slaves. He wasn't lying about his village; it was in the northern part of Gloriano, and it was true that no one had ever given it a name, but his answers didn't seem to be satisfying the girl, even if they were true.
"You must have had a hard time crossing the Kashua Glacier," Damia remarked, still looking mistrustful. Syuveil could tell her statement was meant to gauge Syuveil's reaction; her eyes were closely watching him, searching, trying to see through him.
Unfortunately, he had no idea what the Kashua Glacier was. "Yeah, we did," he said simply, hoping she would be content with that.
She wasn't. "I hope you didn't meet a Windigo," she said, her eyes narrowed. "Those things kill anyone who crosses their territory."
You hope we didn't meet a what? Syuveil tried to put on a reassuring smile, as if he was grateful for Damia's concern. "Don't worry, we didn't see one."
Far from being gratified, Damia's mouth turned downward into a distrusting frown, still glaring at him. Her stare was making Syuveil uneasy. Thankfully, she shifted her gaze downward to her food after giving him a bit more of the icy stare, but then suddenly her eyes shot back upward, this time staring at his chest, apparently just noticing something.
"Syuveil," she asked softly, "why is there blood on the front of your breastplate?"
Cursing inwardly, Syuveil looked down. Sure enough, there were small smears of blood on his leather armor, blood from the guards he'd killed to escape. They were hard to see due to the brown color of the leather, but they were there. He looked up at her, his mouth opening to offer some sort of explanation, but the words never had a chance to come out. In a blur of motion, Damia rose from her chair, dashed over to the shelf in the corner, grabbed her hammer, and held it ready in her hands. Syuveil and Kanzas were also on their feet, eyeing her warily.
"Who the hell are you two?" she hissed. "You're obviously not travelers. What are you then? Mercenaries? Assassins? Criminals?" If she'd been glaring before, it was nothing to what she was doing now. Her eyes shot daggers at the pair of them, glinting with a fierce light sharper than steel.
Syuveil put his hands up in a placating manner, trying to calm her down. "Easy, now," he said soothingly. "We're not any of those things. Just put the hammer down."
"Then why is there blood on your armor?" she snapped angrily, almost shrieking. "I thought I saw some on your glaive, too, when that mob was in front of us, when you pulled it out to threaten them. I couldn't tell in the sunlight so I just didn't say anything." She tightened her grip on the hammer.
With a jolt, Syuveil realized the girl was right. There was still some of the guards' blood on the glaive. He'd done his best to wipe it off when he and Kanzas were arguing, before the wolf attacked, but apparently he'd missed a few spots. He racked his brains, frantically searching for the best course of action. The way Damia was holding that hammer, she didn't look fit to believe any story he told. Lies would only anger her further. He decided on the truth.
"We're escaped slaves," he told Damia.
That made her pause. "What?"
Syuveil opened his mouth to elaborate, but was cut off by Kanzas roughly grabbing his arm. His iron fingers tightened, making Syuveil wince.
"Have you lost your mind, fool?" Kanzas snapped at him, the words coming out in a growl from between clenched teeth. "Shut up! What's wrong with you?"
"Calm down, Kanzas," Syuveil replied, trying to ignore the pain that lanced up his arm as Kanzas gripped it even tighter. "She won't believe anything we tell her. This is the better way."
"How in Endiness is this the better way?" Kanzas asked incredulously.
"Maybe she can help."
"Oh, right! Sure! Just trust any half-breed stranger with the fact that we ran away from the Arena, because maybe they'll help!" His voice rose sharply in anger, his teeth baring. "Yeah, and maybe she'll sell us out to Malavis, too! Did you ever think of that?" Kanzas spat on the ground in rage.
"Kanzas," Syuveil said in a soothing voice. "She won't sell us out, I just know she won't." His friend was still looking angry. "Just trust me, Kanzas," Syuveil said. "Trust me, and let go of my arm."
Kanzas shot Syuveil a filthy look, but released Syuveil's arm all the same. "And you thought my plan to escape was crazy," he muttered mutinously. "Just remember what'll happen to us if we get caught and sent back. We'll be hanging in cages before the sun sets."
"I know," Syuveil replied. He turned to Damia, who had watched the entire exchange with wide eyes. She still hadn't lowered her hammer, though her gaze wasn't as fierce. Syuveil opened his mouth and began.
"Kanzas and I used to be slaves in the Imperial Arena at Kadessa. I was there for two years. Kanzas…" He stopped, realizing that he had no idea how long his friend had been there. He glanced over at the dour warrior. "How long were you there?"
Kanzas scowled, then, spitting the answer out as if left a bad taste in his mouth, said, "Five years."
Syuveil turned back to Damia, who was staring at him, her eyes growing even wider. "The Imperial Arena?" she asked, a look of terrified amazement on her face. Doubtless she'd heard stories of the place.
Syuveil nodded at her. "Yes. The Imperial Arena." As he spoke, he noticed with some satisfaction that her hammer lowered a fraction of an inch. He continued on. "We were to be sold to a Wingly noble, but we killed the guards at the teleporter and escaped." Her eyes widened even more. "The teleporter sent us to the forest, where we ran into you. That's it. We're just men who wanted to be free again."
Damia studied them for a moment, then slowly let her hammer fall to her side. "I believe you," she said softly.
"And you're not going to turn us in?" Syuveil asked.
She shook her head. "No."
Syuveil gave a small sigh of relief. He looked over at Kanzas, grinning.
"See? I told you." Kanzas made no reply except to throw him another dirty look.
"But you can't stay here," Damia said suddenly. "You have to leave. Now."
"Why?" Kanzas said aggressively.
"If you really are escaped slaves," Damia answered, "the Winglies will come searching for you. This'll be one of the first places they'll look. They'll take you back to the Arena in chains, and annihilate the entire village." She looked scared, even more so than when the mob had confronted them. "They won't care that no one knew you were runaways. They'll still think we helped you." Her jaw was set, the lines of her face hard as stone. "I won't let that happen."
"You seem to be rather keen to save the lives of those that hate you," Kanzas remarked. "I find that strange."
Damia glared at him. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. Everyone, no matter how misguided their views might be, deserves a chance to live. I won't let them die. You have to leave."
Kanzas looked as though he was about to reply with some cutting remark, but suddenly, a large chunk of rock crashed through the window, sending pieces of shattered glass everywhere. Syuveil cursed angrily as one of the shards cut a deep gash in his cheek, spattering more blood on his armor. He ran to the broken window and another curse, this one more graphic, escaped his lips as he saw what was coming towards them on the beach.
The mob was back, and they were angrier than before, if that was even possible. They carried burning torches that stood out sharply against the dusk sky, illuminating hard, unforgiving faces. By the light of the fires, Syuveil could see that they all carried weapons. Some were waving pitchforks and scythes, others were brandishing swords and maces. One even had a morningstar, the wicked-looking spiked ball whirling through the air as the man holding it swung it round and round. Drunken, raucous shouting filled the air as the mob drew closer and closer.
Kanzas let out a violent laugh as he came to stand beside Syuveil at the window. "These are the people you want to save, eh?" He sneered at Damia. "I don't think they're here to thank you, half-breed."
Much as he hated to admit it, Syuveil agreed with Kanzas. "He's right," Syuveil told Damia. "They're here to kill us. We have to fight." If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have laughed at the irony of it all. Here he was, the man who hadn't even stood up to the bullies that ruthlessly tortured him during childhood, who hated the fighting he'd done in the Arena with a passion, was encouraging violence to a fifteen year-old girl. The world had gone insane.
Damia bit her lip, hesitating. Kanzas grabbed her roughly and shook her.
"We don't have time for this, girl!" he yelled. "They've got us surrounded, we can't escape! Come on!"
Damia looked unperturbed by Kanzas' behavior. "Let me talk to them first," she said.
Kanzas' jaw dropped in amazement, and Damia took the opportunity to shrug free of his grip. Picking up her hammer, she calmly walked towards the door. She was almost there when something made her stop. Turning back, she went to the shelf and grabbed the teal-blue stone that her mother had left her. Again, as before, it began to glow as she picked it up. She held it for a moment, her eyes closed, a small smile playing on her lips. Then, her eyes snapped open, and she walked out the door, Syuveil and Kanzas staring after her.
They remained where they were for about half a second longer, then Syuveil jerked himself out of the trancelike state he'd been in. He grabbed his glaive and raced out the door after her, Kanzas, swearing angrily, following suit. They stood on either side of Damia like bodyguards as she addressed the crowd.
"People of Furni!" she called out. "Please go home! Leave me in peace!"
"Fuck you!" someone in the mob screamed.
"Kill the freak!" another man yelled, and his companions howled their assent.
"Stone her to death!"
"Burn her house down!"
Tears were rolling down Damia's cheeks. "What did I ever do to you?" she cried. "Why can't you leave me alone?"
But the mob didn't even hear her. They were too far gone, drunk on alcohol and bloodlust. Syuveil glimpsed movement within their ranks, and suddenly one of the torches came flying through the air, heading straight for Damia. Syuveil stepped in front of her and swung his glaive, cleaving the torch in two, the pieces falling harmlessly to the ground. The mob roared in fury.
"Kill them all!" A collective cry of hatred rose up from the throng of villagers as they charged at the three, steadily gaining ground. Syuveil could see that they were vastly outnumbered. He gripped the handle of his weapon tightly, sweat pouring down his head, mixing in with the blood running down his cheek.
"When I pictured my own death," Syuveil heard Kanzas say, "this wasn't how I visualized it." He sighed. "I didn't want to die like this." He sounded almost sad. The mob was almost upon them, screaming with rage, waving their weapons high in the air.
"Soa save us all," Syuveil whispered softly.
Less than a second after the words had left Syuveil's mouth, a beam of light lanced downward from the sky, striking the ground and creating a small explosion that threw up sand five feet high. The mob stopped in their tracks, their howls of hatred changing quickly to screams of fear as their heads rose up to look at the sky.
Something was descending towards them, enshrouded in a ball of light that was brighter than the shine of all the torches that the mob carried. It landed in between the mob and the three warriors, and Syuveil could feel a soft breeze from what could only be beating wings. The thing extended its arm and pointed at the villagers, who shrank back in horror at the sight before them.
"Begone!" the thing said in a loud, commanding voice. "Leave this place now!"
The mob didn't need to be told twice. As one, they all changed direction and ran back to the village as fast as their legs would carry them, screaming in terror. Syuveil was awestruck. It's an angel, he thought for one wild moment. Soa heard my prayer and sent an angel to help us. But as the thing turned towards them, the light surrounding its body vanished, and Syuveil could see that it was not an angel after all, but something much more amazing.
Their rescuer was a woman with long red hair, clad in silver armor that covered her upper torso but left her midriff bare. Red gems the same color as her hair were embedded in the tiara she wore, as well as in her knee high silver boots and her breastplate. Silver gauntlets and gloves were on her forearms and hands, and the shoulder protectors she wore were covered in red enamel. A red skirt was worn under silver armor that protected her lower body, but her thighs were left bare. An enormous, silver bow was in her left hand. But the most amazing things were the wings. Wings of what looked like pure energy grew out of the back of her armor and stretched out behind her. She flexed them once, smiling at the three.
Syuveil stood there, utterly dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. All he could think was, No…no, it can't be. It's impossible. They can't be real, they just can't be. But what he saw was at odds with what he thought; even though his mind was disbelieving, his eyes saw the truth clearly. His legs felt weak, he was ready to fall to his knees. Finally, he found the strength to speak.
"A Dragoon…" was all he managed to get out.
The woman laughed and nodded. "Are you three alright?" she asked. They nodded shakily.
"Good," she said. "I got here just in time."
"Time for what, exactly?" They all turned to look at Kanzas. "Why did you help us?"
Syuveil glared at him. Why did he have to be so rude to people they'd just met? Luckily, their savior didn't seem offended.
"You ask a good question," she said. In answer, she pointed to Damia, who stepped back, looking shocked.
"Me?" she asked. "What am I to you?"
"A Dragoon," the woman said. "Just like me."
Damia shook her head, the astonishment Syuveil felt mirrored on her face. "Impossible," the half-breed said, her voice trembling. "That's impossible."
"Oh?" the woman said, looking amused. "Take out your Spirit, then, and I'll show you."
"My what?"
"The stone in your pocket. It's your Dragoon Spirit. Take it out."
Staring at the woman as though unable to believe that she was there, Damia fished the stone out of her pocket. For the third time, it started to glow at her touch. The woman raised her arm again, as she'd done with the mob, and pointed at Damia.
"Arise, Dragoon Spirit of the Blue Sea Dragon!"
As the woman spoke, Damia was enveloped in a blinding, teal-blue light, a light that seemed to come from the stone in her hand. Syuveil stepped back, amazed. Even Kanzas looked awed. The girl rose a few feet in the air, still shrouded in the light. She seemed to be changing somehow. Then suddenly, the light vanished to reveal Damia floating above the ground, still shining softly in a halo of the same teal light.
Where before Damia had worn a tight-fitting tunic and leggings, she was now encased in armor similar to Shirley's. A blue cuirass covered her torso all the way up to her breasts, leaving her collarbone and shoulders uncovered. She wore blue gauntlets and gloves, like Shirley's silver ones, as well as a tiara, which was slightly different from Shirley's. Blue armor protected her thighs, and she wore short, high-heeled boots. Damia's armor was encrusted with gems as well, glittering in the teal light that continued to emanate from her. And, of course, there were the distinctive Dragoon wings, sprouting from her back. Even her hammer had changed; it was now enormous and stone-gray. Syuveil and Kanzas just stared at her, unable to believe their eyes.
Damia lowered slowly to the ground, examining her new armor with wide, scared eyes. Then suddenly, there was another flash of light, and Damia's armor vanished. She collapsed to the ground, sweating and breathing hard. Syuveil ran to her, helping her to her feet. She leaned against him, utterly exhausted.
The woman smiled again. "Now do you believe?" Gasping for breath, Damia nodded.
"Excellent," the woman said. "Now we must leave. We have to get to Vellweb." She motioned for Damia to follow her.
"Vellweb? You mean it actually exists?" Syuveil blurted out.
The woman laughed. "Of course it exists. Haven't you heard the stories?"
"I heard the stories," Syuveil said, "I just…"
"You didn't believe them," the woman finished for him. Syuveil nodded. "Well, it does exist, and that's where we have to go. Goodbye." She scooped Damia up in her arms and prepared to take off.
"Wait!" Syuveil yelled. "What about us?"
The woman regarded him for a minute, surveying him with a piercing gaze that seemed to strip away his flesh and lay bare his soul. After a moment of silence, the woman spoke.
"I was only commanded to bring the girl, but there is something about you that draws me. Your friend as well," she said, motioning to Kanzas. "I can't explain it. Perhaps Emperor Diaz will know what to make of it." She set Damia down. "Very well. You may come."
Syuveil grinned. "Perfect," he said. "What about you, Kanzas? Are you coming?"
The grim warrior thought for a moment. "Sure," he said, shrugging, "why the hell not?"
"That's settled then," said Syuveil, turning to the woman, who nodded.
Since we're not flying, then," she said, "there's no need for this." She closed her eyes, and in a flash of silver light, her armor disappeared. She was now clothed in a white tunic, leather leggings, and travel boots. A quiver of arrows was slung across her back, and her bow, now changed from its enhanced form, was a normal, wooden shortbow. "My name is Shirley," the woman said.
"I'm Syuveil, and this is Kanzas."
"I'm Damia," the half-breed girl piped up, speaking for the first time since her transformation.
"I'm glad to meet you all. Now come, we must go. It's a long journey from here to Vellweb on foot, and we cannot waste time." She turned to the west. "It's this way. Grab your things from the house and let's get moving."
The three scurried to the house, Syuveil assisting Damia, who was still worn out from her ordeal. They grabbed their packs, weapons, and the like, and then raced out to Shirley. "We'll skirt the village," she told them, "so we won't have to deal with that mob again." She began to walk west, Kanzas following her. Syuveil made to follow Kanzas, but then noticed that Damia had hung back. She was looking back at her shack, a wistful look on her face.
"Damia," Syuveil called.
She jerked, as if waking from a dream, then turned and began to follow Shirley and Kanzas with Syuveil.
