The Ties That Bind
Chapter 8: Overloaded
Ooh, Pokemon Platinum announced!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"Well," Russell's soft voice broke Elena from her daydream. "We're here."
She glanced up at the ancient stone edifice. Castle Karona was not unfamiliar to her – after all, when Gulcasa still had command of it, she'd been here often enough with Master Zilva, ready to receive her assignments.
Of course, I botched a fair number of them. She thought, with a bit of lingering distaste. To be sure, a large amount of the reason for such a failure had come from the incredible competence of Yggdra and her ragtag freedom fighters – and of course, Master Zilva had usually fared no better – but the undeniable fact that she had muffed up her assigned tasks wasn't something that sat easy with her.
Of course, it was all null and void after what she'd done anyway…
Upon catching sight of Russell's approach, the soldiers manning the gates hurriedly gave words for them to be opened, and the small band of travelers entered the courtyard.
After the marauders had left so many displaced and homeless, Russell had ordered the gates of the fortress to be opened to the refuges, and now they were packed into the courtyard, displaced villagers with nowhere else to turn.
All around them, servants hurried around, dispensing foodstuffs and other necessities. Women huddled about in rags, clutching their children close to them. A few men wandered aimlessly around the area, lost, dazed expressions on their faces.
Silent, Elena averted her eyes. Even after all her training, she could never bear to see innocent suffering. She could almost hear Master Zilva's voice right now, lecturing her on how the heart was a liability in combat.
But no matter how hard she'd tried, it had never worked out. Admittedly, she had never tried very hard – she could never shake the feeling that to harden one's heart to such scenes would be… well, that it would be akin to giving up a bit of her humanity.
"What are the developments?" She heard Russell talking to an aide who had rushed up.
"We're doing all right in terms of providing adequate rations for the refugees… but only barely." The aide sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Milord, if I may be so bold as to ask, how did your petition for extra supplies from the Queen go?"
"About as well as could be expected," The purple haired fencer sighed. "We'll be getting aid, but far less than what we need. They simply don't have the resources. Anyway!" He half-turned to gesture at the group of people still standing in the entrance of the courtyard, as if unsure of what to do. "Get guest rooms ready for them. We'll be on the march again soon enough, but I think comfortable rooms are in order for at least one night."
"Of course. Right away…"
"Hey, boss!"
Milanor glanced up from where he had been sitting perched on the windowsill, gazing down at the crowding mass of people in the courtyard. "Yeah?" He drawled lazily as he turned to face his underling. "What's up?"
A confused look appeared on the bandit's face. "Uh… not down?" He finally ventured.
Milanor closed his eyes, sighed, and counted to ten. When he was done, he opened his eyes and shook his head. "Never mind. What did you want me for?"
"Dinner's ready. I got sent to tell you that."
"Right. You can tell 'em I'm not hungry." Milanor waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Enjoy the grub."
"Er… okay." The bandit turned and departed, leaving Milanor to his vigil.
"Something the matter, Master Milanor? You seem distracted."
At the sound of the gentle voice, he looked up. "Ah, Lady Flone." He stood and bowed stiffly. "Been a while."
"Indeed it has." Russell's wife nodded in return. "Milanor, you are certain you don't wish to partake of the evening meal?"
"Maybe later." Milanor shrugged and turned back to the window. "Right now, I just want to be alone, you know?"
Flone sighed and smoothed out her skirt. "Milanor, I know you're still brooding over the death of Kylier, but-"
The silver-haired thief jerked upright, whirling around to face her. "H- how could you tell?" He sputtered.
Flone blinked, surprised. "That's… Milanor, it's written all over you. The way you carry yourself, your behaviour… Didn't anyone else notice?"
"Well, your husband thought I looked a bit out of sorts, but that was about it?" Milanor sighed. "It wasn't as bad back in Yggdra's castle – there was no shortage of crap to mess around with, so my mind was occupied." He had no idea why he was suddenly babbling like this now, it was just that he'd kept it bottled inside for so long, and now that someone had come over who could peer at him and uncover what he'd been hiding inside he didn't see the point in hiding it anymore, that he might as well unburden himself. "But when we came out on this trek I had a lot of free time doing nothing, and I just couldn't stop thinking that maybe if I'd fought better, done something, I could've saved her…"
"…" Flone didn't speak for a while, merely resting her arm on Milanor's shoulder, which caused the thief to realize that he was trembling.
"I keep having this dream." He blurted out. "We're at the gates of Flarewerk, and we're getting our asses kicked. Gulcasa's got that Ankh of his, and it's blasting all of us to holy hell. Then Kylier shows up and tells me not to worry, that she'll protect me and that she'll make sure everything will be okay. And then she's flying towards the Ankh and I'm yelling at her to stop, and I'm running as fast as I can, trying to grab her, trying to stop her from killing herself, and suddenly there's this huge flash of light, and… and then I wake up." He finished lamely.
"Kylier's death wasn't your-" Milanor had already raised his finger to interject.
"No. Don't start that. Not now. Don't even try."
"…"
"Look… thanks for hearing me out. But I kinda want to be alone now, okay?" A moment after his outburst, he felt reticent and withdrawn, wanting nothing more than to be left to his ponderings.
The noblewoman bowed slightly. "As you wish," and then she was gone.
A cool breeze wafted through the single window of the room, providing some relief from the oppressive heat.
"Whoever designed this castle did not know architecture." Azel mumbled to himself as he lay on the thin mattress, trying to catch some sleep. Of course, it was equally probable that the person who'd designed it simply didn't care – comfort was not high on the list of priorities for soldiers of an army, and this philosophy carried through to the army barracks.
Still, he'd gone to sleep in far worse conditions than this – he'd just been involved in a continent-wide war, for crying out loud, so that he currently couldn't sleep probably wasn't due to the stifling conditions of his bunk – even though it obviously wasn't helping matters any.
With a sigh, he sat up on his bed, rubbing his hair wearily. Well, if he couldn't sleep, then he might as well go for a walk.
He'd stayed in Castle Karona before, so he was familiar enough with the layout to quickly make his way to the castle ramparts. A small smile played across his face as he felt the cool breeze caress his face.
The smile vanished as he noticed Elena crouched on the edge of the castle wall, seemingly lost deep in thought.
Just as he was about to consider moving away from that particular location, Elena noticed him. "Oh… Sir Azel…" Hurriedly she clambered off the stone ledge, back onto the floor. "I – I didn't notice you there."
"I just arrived anyway." He said guardedly. "I assume you couldn't get to sleep either, correct?"
She hesitated, before nodding. "Bad dreams again." She managed a crooked smile as she said it.
"A common occurrence?" It happened the other night too.
Elena's expression became shadowed, and she lowered her gaze. That was all the answer Azel needed.
"About your brother?"
The assassin finally closed her eyes. "Sometimes. But sometimes it's Master Zilva, accusing me of betrayal, executing me for being a traitor… and… and…" She shivered.
The Crimson Rider let out a long, slow sigh. "Leon always spoke of you as being soft-willed. The night he came in and told me his baby sister had made it into Master Zilva's Shadows, he was utterly incredulous. He said he wouldn't believe you could kill someone until he saw it with his own eyes."
"…" The violet haired assassin made no reply.
"I admit that my initial observations of you seemed to bear largely the same results. When we went on our reconnaissance mission to Fantasinia, you were so nervous I thought you were about to suffer a breakdown."
"I… it was my first mission where I was working with people outside the Shadow squad," Elena spoke softly. "I was so afraid that I would mess up, that I would cause our mission to fail…"
"And yet, when the time came for you to do your part, you pulled it off remarkably well. When you had to silence the Fantasinian knight to ensure he wouldn't give away our existence, you did so. You've a wellspring of resolve somewhere in you." Azel continued emotionlessly.
There was another long pause and Elena crossed her arms, hugging herself. Finally, when she spoke, it was in a small voice. "Sir Azel… are you telling me this because you wish to praise me… or because you wish to remind me of what I did and condemn me again for it?"
The Bronquian knight shook his head. "It's just me wondering where this resolve of yours stems from… and how it sustained you when you were facing down Leon. I know it failed you at least once." Try as he might, he failed he keep the venom out of his voice.
"It wasn't like I had any choice." Elena said softly, still trying to keep her emotion in check. "He was completely out of control. And towards the end… he'd… he'd started killing the Fantasinians we took prisoner just for sport."
"I know that. And that gave you the right to play judge and jury with his life?" Azel shrugged. "I don't know how you justified your actions to yourself, but, please, keep them to yourself. I've no interest in hearing what machinations you used to arrive at the conclusion that his death was a noble and righteous thing for you to partake in-"
"He was my BROTHER!" Something had obviously snapped deep within Elena, and the torrent of grief and rage and self-loathing exploded from her in the form of a feral cry. "Do you know how many nights I spent trying to find some way, ANY way other than killing him? Do you know how I felt when I finally realized the cold hard truth, that no one else but me seemed to care that my brother had turned into a monster, that no one, not Master Zilva, not the Emperor, none of the Dragon Generals, certainly NOT you, was going to offer the slightest help? Do you know what it was like, knowing Leon when he was a kid, when he laughed at jokes and jests and not at pain and suffering and death? Do you know how many nights after killing him where the guilt tore at me so bad it was all I could do not to scream. Do you know what it was like seeing the look in his eyes as I fired the shot that pierced his throat, seeing the blank shock, seeing it fade away into tired emptiness, seeing the way he slumped over slightly on his horse, him finally falling over and… and…" She paused, gasping for breath, and it was only then that she realized that she was crying, her vision blurred over, and she reached a hand to wipe away the tears.
Axel had remained silent throughout the outburst, staring at her, his usual unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly, she felt very, very tired. Shaking her head, she managed to mumble a quick "I – I'm sorry," before she turned and stumbled for her room.
Achaeus was one of the more reliable time keeping devices in the world, Russell had learnt. Shortly after the griffon has passed into his care, he'd learnt the hard way that Emilia had valued early wakeup calls, and Achaeus saw no reason for his new master to be any different.
Consequently, Russell had the opportunity to witness a sunrise practically every morning. It wasn't much of a bother when he slept alone, but being once more at Castle Karona with Flone at his side, he'd hoped to at least have one morning where he could wake up peacefully, with his wife at his side, before they set out again.
That was not to be. Of course, this time it wasn't Achaeus after all…
"Master Russell!" The servant was obviously in a panicked mood, but decorum would not allow him to enter the bedchambers where his Lord lay in slumber, and so he stood outside.
Roused from his sleep, Russell paused to give Flone a resigned sigh (she responded with an equally resigned smile) before heading over to the servant.
"What is it?" He questioned. And it had better be good was unstated, but nonetheless understood by both parties.
"We've received reports of a massive bandit movement towards the north of here! If unchecked, they'll reached the villages and Tern and Finstown by nightfall today."
Russell resisted the urge to utter a curse. "Mobilize all the men we can spare. Send messengers to nearby garrisons immediately and tell them to stake out for Tern. We march as soon as we can. Move!"
The servant paused to bow only slightly before rushing off. Russell sighed, then turned to another servant standing nearby.
"Rouse Master Milanor, Sir Azel, and Dame Elena. Now."
In a few minutes time, all available soldiers were assembled. Still a lot less than Russell would have liked, but they didn't have the luxury of mustering a more sizable force.
Elena joined the press of soldiers, unsure of where exactly she should fall in. She was more used to operating amongst the shadows than marching with the main army, and she felt uncomfortable in the presence of so many.
"Elena." The calm voice startled her and she spun to see Azel regarding her. Silently, he indicated that she should fall in behind her, which she did so hesitantly.
She still had no idea what he'd made of her outburst last night. She'd kept it pent up inside her for so long that when it finally came out... She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her cheeks burn from embarrassment. What did she think of her now?
Then she heard Russell's command to move out, and she cleared such thoughts from her mind, as she had been trained to do.
There was a battle to be fought. Personal issues could come later.
Chapter End
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