A/N: I'm ba-ack! With yet another chapter as I continue to delve into Fakir's experiences throughout the series! Because he's fascinating. For the record, I don't have a crush on him, nor am I romantically attracted to this character in any way. He is, however, my favorite. Which means his life is going to royally suck in every other story I write with him as a character. Which is also why my mental representation of him keeps trying to murder me…a lot. My head is an interesting place when I write. Also I am changing Yagiko-sensei's name after all. Her name is now Miss Koza. It's as close as I can get to Anglicizing the Russian word for nanny-goat; according to Google Translate at least. I may need to start asking people to give me better translations… Oh, well… Also…TWO MORE CHAPTERS (not counting this one) UNTIL I COVER MY FAVORITE EPISODES! WHEEEE! Let's begin the chapter now, shall we?
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Back to fleeing for my life!
Chapter 9: Fate
By the time Mytho returned to the dorms that night, Fakir was already lying in bed with his eyes closed. Yet he was not asleep. He couldn't sleep. His mind would not calm down enough. The white-haired teen said nothing as he got ready for bed himself and lay down. The young knight flinched slightly at being ignored so thoroughly by his best friend. The dark-haired young man sighed softly as he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling pensively. At the moment, his friend's emotional state was less of a concern than his own. His feelings were churning inside him so violently that it was making him feel a bit ill. Worse, he could barely identify what he was feeling from moment to moment. The only ones he could pin down were fear and guilt. There was a lot of guilt. Fakir wondered if he should try apologizing, but part of him doubted that the prince would accept it. He hadn't earlier after the taller teen had struck him. The troubled young man flinched again as he remembered the look on his friend's face. He still felt terrible about having done that, and wished he could reverse time to take it back. To do anything other than strike the one person he'd sworn on his life to protect. A broken sigh slipped out of him as he rolled onto his side and watched his friend sleep. 'I only ever wanted to keep you safe from harm,' he thought mournfully, 'I never meant to hurt you… I am a pathetic excuse for a knight and an even worse friend… Forgive me…'
The young knight didn't get any sleep that night. His tormented feelings and his growing doubts combined to induce his subconscious to conjure up the worst nightmares he had ever experienced every time he started to drop off. Fakir groaned quietly as the sun peaked through the curtains and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. Two consecutive nights without sleep on top of everything else he was currently dealing with was not helping. His mind did not work right when he was sleep deprived. The dark-haired young man glanced over at where Mytho was sleeping and sighed as he concluded that it might be for the best if he left before his friend awakened. Partly because his guilt had him convinced that the other teen probably didn't even want anything to do with him right now, and partly because his emotions were such a mess that even looking at the white haired young man hurt. He needed to leave if only so he could get his head on straight before he tried talking to the prince again. 'Otherwise I'll probably end up saying something I regret,' Fakir smirked bitterly, 'As usual…' The exhausted teen slowly climbed out of bed, put on his uniform, wrote a note explaining his absence for his friend, and slipped out of the dorms. Besides, there was always a chance that going for a walk would help; maybe. He could hope.
Fakir once again wandered aimlessly through town for most of the morning, lost in thought, until his path carried him to that fountain. The fountain Edel had found him questioning his actions. The fountain he'd used for the ritual the night before. He didn't know why he ended up there, but he was so far past the point of caring. The young knight stared brokenly at the falling water for several minutes before a shudder ran through him and he looked down at his right hand. "With this hand…I tried to pierce Mytho's heart," he murmured guiltily. He clenched his fists briefly before relaxing them and allowing his arms to fall limp by his side as he returned his gaze to the fountain. "I believed," he continued quietly, "it was the best thing for Mytho. However…now Mytho wants his heart returned to him. What can I do when I can't even stop him?" A pained look crossed his face as he raised his head slightly, "When I think about what I can do now…it basically amounts to accepting my fate…without fear." Fakir's heart clenched tightly at that admission and he started to tremble slightly. His body's reaction caught him off guard and his eyes widened slightly as he brought his hand up to his face, "Fear?"
He knew the fate that awaited the knight from the original story as a terrible one, and it had been a recurring theme of his nightmares for years. After reading 'The Prince and The Raven' to Mytho so many times over the years it was impossible for him to be unaware of the end that awaited him. Yet Fakir had never before considered what it was about that fate that frightened him so much. Was it the fear of failure as he had so long believed? Or was it something far more basic? His instinctive reaction was starting to make him suspect it might be the latter. The young knight turned away from the fountain and started to wander once more as he contemplated his reaction. He was aware that he was missing classes, but that didn't matter to him right now. His classes had never been that high on his priorities list anyways for all that he pushed himself to excel.
'What is it that I am afraid of,' he wondered uneasily, 'Considering present circumstances there are many things that could be driving it, but what is it specifically? I don't know…' However, he had an idea of how he might find out. He knew of an old used bookstore that had a copy of 'The Prince and the Raven'. He'd read it so many times as a child he could practically quote it from memory. Fakir also knew the campus library had a copy, but seeing as he was basically playing truant he wasn't going anywhere near the Academy until after classes had let out. That left the used bookstore as his only option. He'd read the story once more until he came to the part that covered the knight's death. Maybe it would give him some clarity on what was fueling his fear and how he might overcome it.
It was around noon by the time the young man reached his intended destination. The used bookstore was fairly small and nestled between two other businesses. The owner was a strange old man, but he was accommodating enough to allow Fakir to read whatever books he wanted free of charge. When the dark-haired teen opened the door to the shop, the old shopkeeper perked up and gave him an odd grin. "Have you come to read that book again," the old man asked. "Yes," the young knight replied shortly as he walked into the store. "It's in the same place as always," the shopkeeper chuckled, "You read it often enough I'm surprised you haven't just broken down and bought it already." "Shut up," the teen huffed before making his way up to the second floor. The novel was located in a dusty aisle near the back of the store where most customers rarely tread. The malachite-eyed young man retrieved the book, walked over to a nearby table, adjusted the brightness of the old kerosene lamp resting on said table, and started to read.
Drosselmeyer's language tended to be flowery and dramatic which made his progress slow. Normally, he would be drawn into the world of the story and lose himself in the words. It happened every time he read a work of fiction regardless of who wrote it. However, the young knight could not afford to indulge himself this time. Page by page he diligently worked his way through the unfolding narrative. Fakir lost all track of time in the dark corner of the used bookstore he had settled in as he read. As he drew near to the part where the knight died he started to frown. "Just why do I have to be afraid," he challenged himself quietly as he read on. His anxiety had been growing the entire time and it was starting to get on his nerves. "Ridiculous," he scoffed quietly, "'The Prince and The Raven'. What is written here is Mytho's story." 'Not mine,' he reminded himself. "The fate of a prince who tried to protect all who were weak," he continued bitterly, "And to do that, hurt himself and even lost his own heart. That's all." The next page detailed the fate of the knight and he hesitated as he grasped the edge of the page.
Before he could overcome his hesitation a familiar sing-song voice interrupted him, "There is happiness for those who accept their fate. There is glory for those who fight against their fate." Edel's chilly hand covered his own as she reached out and turned the page from across the table. Fakir looked up at her in surprise, "You're…" "The story is continuing," the pale woman stated evenly, "The story is living." A soft gasp escaped the young knight as he looked back down at the book. There on the page looking up at him was an artist's rendition of the death of the knight…rent almost clean in two by the raven's claws. The knight was in full armor, though its protection had been utterly useless, and the track of the wound across his body…matched the dark-haired teen's birthmark perfectly. The reaction he experienced looking upon that picture was the same as that he'd experienced by the fountain. "This is…," he murmured shakily, "You're saying that this is my fate?" 'Is there no way I can change this end,' he breathed shakily as he fought his fear back down.
Edel gazed at the grim young knight with a look vaguely resembling curiosity on her face before she asked, "Is it sad for Rue? Mytho? Ahiru? Or maybe…" Fakir raised his head to ask her what she meant by that, and gasped as he realized the woman had vanished again. "Sad for Rue," he wondered aloud, "and Ahiru? What do they have to do with any of this?" He had long suspected that Rue might have a role in things to come considering how close she was to Mytho, but…Ahiru? Could that silly duck-like girl actually be involved in this mess? "Impossible," he shook his head sharply. There was no way that idiotic red-head could have gotten tangled up in things without him knowing. The dark-haired teen glanced back down at the book and swallowed hard as he reached out to shut it. "I'm afraid…of what my death would entail," he admitted at last.
He had always known that he didn't want to die, but then no fifteen year old did. Not wanting to die was normal as far as he was concerned, but he had never fully realized just how much the prospect terrified him. "I don't want to die," Fakir murmured brokenly, "because if I die that means I will no longer be able to keep my promise to Mytho. I'll have failed him in the worst way possible. There's nobody else I can trust to keep him safe." He briefly flashed back to how desperately Princess Tutu had tried to protect Mytho from him yesterday and scoffed. She may think she was helping the prince. She may even think she could protect him, but he had seen the hesitation in her eyes when he'd fought her. Tutu was not willing to kill, and if she couldn't kill she couldn't protect anyone.
Fakir let out a long slow breath before he moved to replace the book and turn the lantern back down to its lowest flame. There was no point in lingering any longer. He had his answer to why he was afraid; though that still left the problem with how to deal with Mytho choosing to regain his heart. The young knight stepped out of the store to find it was now the middle of the afternoon. Classes at the Academy were done by now, so he started to make his way over to campus. As he walked he considered the problem he faced in regards to his friend. True, he knew the other teen better than anyone. They had grown up together after all, but it was the emotionless, heartless version he was the most familiar with. In spite of how many times Fakir had read the story the prince came from that Mytho still felt like a stranger to him in some ways. The true prince was someone larger than life who was to be admired from a distance and not like his best friend at all. There as a gap between the two versions that the dark-haired teen simply did not know how to reconcile. Worse, the more heart-shards his friend regained the less he recognized the white-haired teen. Would the person the other teen was turning back into even want to be his friend? The green-eyed young man doubted it, and that was something he wasn't sure he could live with.
The fact was his friendship with the white-haired teen was the only thing keeping him from succumbing to suffocating loneliness. He literally had no once else. The dark-haired knight's relationship with Charon had deteriorated so far that it may as well not exist. His surrogate older sister – Raetsel – had moved out around the time he had entered the Academy, and he hadn't seen her in years. The other students at the Academy were either afraid of him, hated him, or were so obsessed over a fictional version of him that his real self would end up being a massive disappointment. He had no close living family members that he knew of and most of the distant relatives he knew of were content to ignore that he even existed. If Mytho decided he no longer wanted anything to do with the taller teen…that would be it. Fakir would be completely alone. He didn't know if he could handle that without breaking. As he walked, memories of the changes overtaking his friend flashed though his head. The white haired teen questioning how he felt about his taller friend, questioning whether the young knight even knew what was best for him, deciding to go meet with Ahiru against his friend's wishes…
"Mytho is changing," the young man admitted aloud, "Into a Mytho I don't know." A sudden outburst from the nearby pizza parlor caught his attention, and he turned to look. Mr. Katze and Miss Koza were in the middle of some sort of discussion. "That is something that cannot be helped," the anthropomorphic feline said firmly, "We both even think differently, after all." The troubled teen watched as the feline took a bite of his pizza and the goat-woman devoured the menu. The cat-man set his pizza down with an exasperated huff as he stated, "As you can see, even out interests and what we eat are completely different. So, I don't want to marry you!" The feline instructor suddenly surged to his feet as he declared passionately, "I have no intentions of changing my will!" That statement resonated with Fakir as he turned to face the couple fully. 'My…will,' he wondered before he felt his mind clear, 'I want to protect Mytho. Regardless of how much he changes…my will to protect him remains the same.' The young knight turned sharply on his heel as he resumed his progress towards the Academy.
Fakir had almost reached campus when a full conspiracy of ravens flew overhead. He felt a chill run down his spine as he looked up warily, "What's this?" They were all flying towards the Academy and one of them dipped low enough that he caught a glimpse of its red eyes. "The Raven's servants," he whispered in before his eyes widened in horror, "Mytho!" There was no doubt in his mind that the Raven would send his minions after his friend. 'I have to hurry,' he grimaced as he started to sprint down the streets, 'Stay safe until I get there, Mytho! Please!' The young knight was a remarkably fast runner thanks to the conditioning practicing ballet gave his body. If there was one thing it was good for it was building up core and leg strength. It took the teen less than a minute to cover the remaining distance to campus and reach the main lawn. Fakir paused for a few seconds to check where the ravens were gathering and found them swarming around the art building.
The young man didn't even hesitate to jog over, yet he paused once he drew near enough to see in the windows. "Kraehe," he hissed as he recognized the figure of the black clad ballerina. So she was going after his friend again, was she? Not if he had anything to say about it. A flash of white drew his attention as he realized Tutu was there as well. He stealthily slipped closer and peered through the window to get a clearer look at what was happening. To his surprise, Kraehe was hunched over on the floor and seemed to be in a daze of some sort. Princess Tutu was standing by Mytho and was pressing something in her hands to his chest; something that glowed red. 'She must be returning another heart shard,' the young knight realized before his eyes narrowed, 'Did she actually manage to defeat Kraehe on her own?' If so he might just have to reconsider his opinion of her…slightly. However, once the heart-shard had been returned, all the white-clad ballerina did was talk to the dark ballerina. "That idiot," Fakir hissed, "Words aren't enough!" It had been a hard lesson for him to accept, but accept it he did. The dark-haired young man took a few steps away from the building and tensed. If Tutu wasn't going to do something about Kraehe…then he would.
He sprinted forward and leapt towards the large window with his arms across his face for protection. The glass shattered with a sharp crash, and he shifted position in mid-air to turn his dive into a tumble that would carry him passed the black-clad ballerina. "Fakir," he heard Princess Tutu exclaim in surprise. As Fakir rolled across the floor he snagged a shard of glass to use as a weapon and recovered into a crouch facing Kraehe with his makeshift blade held out in front of him. "Disappear," he snarled viciously, "You damned raven!" Kraehe stared back at him in shock for a few moments before she seemed to recover and a haughty smirk crossed her face. "I remember now," she proclaimed arrogantly as she spread her arms out to the side like raven's wings, "I am a raven, and I am the true prima donna, Princess Kraehe. What I want, I will take by force if I must!" She brought her arms down in a sharp gesture and she vanished in a swirl of black wind and feathers.
A/N: And that's the end. I realize it is a bit more abrupt than normal, but in the series the next episode is a direct continuation off of the end of this one. It is also one of my favorites because little Fakir is freaking adorable. I am not kidding, he is one cute kid. I don't even like kids. Continuing to drop hints at future events because foreshadowing is fun. Also more time in Fakir's head because I enjoy working out what motivates him and how he reacts to things. Fun bit is I think I'm actually managing to not have him be too badly out of character in the process. It helps that I relate to him a lot. I have a much easier time writing for characters that have traits in common with me. I am so looking forward to the next chapter… It provides the impetus for one of my favorite moments in the entire show! Involving Fakir and his messed up priorities. I laugh every time… He's so adorable when he's freaking out and embarrassed… It's funny… I love episode 12… Right. Stopping here. See you next chapter!
