A Road Less Travelled
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For a moment, there is silence. Faye feels a knot in her stomach as she sits and waits, her back against the tree. The words they use when speaking of Duma are dark and ominous, and she's not sure how to react to intruding on a private conversation of such heavy matter. And so, she doesn't, simply sitting and listening.
"I see..." Nomah's voice once more, this time slow and heavy. "In that case, it is possible that our journey to Duma's Tower may be even more perilous than I had feared."
"Yes. I can only wonder how Mila herself fares. No one else has heard from her since Rudolf staged his assault on the Temple."
A long, slow sigh. "And the reports say he brought the Falchion with him too. One wonders where it is now."
"Nomah..." And Faye can tell there's an edge to the old man – Halcyon's – voice now. "If you speak so openly of the Falchion, then do you believe it's needed, after all?"
"Who can say? I didn't want to consider the possibility, but the thought has gnawed at my mind ever since Mila withdrew her bounty. And now you say that Duma might be lost to madness too." A pause, pregnant with expectation. "Was it not for this very reason that the Kingsfang was forged?"
The words lodge in Faye's mind like cold molasses, and she only understands in a distant, detached manner that the two men are speaking of bearing weapons against Mila. Against Duma.
Against the gods.
"Yes, it was. I..." a sigh, and Halcyon sounds impossibly weary, "cannot deny the possibility. Yet, I have no information on where the Falchion is. We know Rudolf brought it with him to Mila's Temple. But after that, there are no records of where it rests now."
"Hrmph. Well, regardless, the princess' path will not change. We must still make for Duma's Tower, if only to confirm the truth with our own eyes."
"I see. Well, for my part, I'll continue trying to locate the Falchion. After all, if worst comes to worst..."
"Yes. Only that which comes from a dragon can slay a dragon." A sucking sound, like an intake of breath, before Nomah's voice continues, his words heavy. "If Duma is lost to madness as we fear, then Falchion will be needed, for what comes next."
The two men dance around the subject with their words, and the knot in her gut only tightens. Why – weren't they on a mission to rescue Mila? When had it turned – how had the issue suddenly become dragon madness and – and godslaying?
It takes all her self control not to let her breath come out in harsh rasps.
"Will you tell the princess?"
There is a silence for a long moment. Then, "I don't doubt the heart of any one of them who came on this journey. Nor their faith. But if it were to come out that the foundations of Valentia itself may be beginning to crumble..."
"And yet, they may soon come face to face with that knowledge regardless."
"If and when that time comes, we can better prepare ourselves. Plans are better made in the face of truth, not fearful speculation. As long as no one does anything rash, seeing the truth of the matter with our own eyes is probably for the best. Celica places so much faith in the Mother... I don't want her to worry any more than she needs to."
"I cannot deny events are taking a life of their own." Halcyon's voice is weary now. "Children, bearers of the brands, coming of age. The gods, sitting silent in their temples as the Divine Accord is shattered. What is to happen now? The princess is so burdened... so very burdened."
"Her sense of duty is admirable. Yet that same sense of duty might lead her to shouldering more than she can bear." Nomah's voice trails off. "I'm worried for her, Halcyon."
"So am I. Yet we can only trust in her strength – and in the support her friends would give her now in this fateful hour."
"Indeed. Then, at first light, we make for Duma's Tower."
"I am sorry. I would come with you, but my magic is all that keeps the Hamlet safe from Jedah's predations. I can do nothing but pray for your safety now. "
"You've already given us more than enough aid, Halcyon." The voices take a lighter tone and begins to fade in the distance – and Faye gradually realizes that they two sages are walking away.
Faye is left alone, in the cold and in the dark.
She doesn't know how long she sits there, her heart hammering in her chest. Finally, she pulls herself to her feet, and begins to walk in the direction of the Hamlet.
Her footsteps feel hazy, as if they are sinking into clouds instead of solid earth. More than once, she stumbles even though the path is wide and even.
Finally, she makes it to her room – a distant corner of her mind notes that Genny is already curled up in her cot – and crumples onto the bed. She lies there and squeezes her eyes shut, and she can only wonder what the future the bring.
(X)
The first time Faye nearly ruins her friendships, she is fifteen and sitting out in the summer sun as she prepares to mend a tear in one of Alm's shirts.
She hums a tune to herself as she carefully threads her needle. She is just about to begin sewing when she hears the sound of footsteps approaching.
"Yo, Faye!" Gray is there, and he waves to her with a smile on his face. Her hands are occupied, but she raises her face and gives him a smile and a quick nod in greeting before returning to her work. "What are you up to?"
"What's it look like? I'm mending Alm's shirt." This morning, Alm had stumbled while practising his parries, and had fallen against the fence. When he had gotten to his feet again, a large tear across the back was visible to all.
Uncle Mycen had grumbled about needing to repair the fence again, to remove splinters and tears, and of course Alm had volunteered to help. Faye smiles at the memory. Alm was always so thoughtful.
"Yeah... that's the shirt he was wearing earlier on, right?"
"Yup!" She shakes her head before making the first stitch. "Honestly, he needs to be more careful. If he'd fallen just a little to the left he could have seriously hurt himself!"
A sardonic chuckle from Gray as he flopped onto the ground, leaning against another fencepost with hands tucked behind his head. "Ooh, wouldn't that be a sight to see. Alm, lying on the ground bleeding. And of course, you'd be right there, fussing over him and trying to bandage him up."
"Well, of course I'd be." She raises an eyebrow at Gray's remark. "And why wouldn't I? Is there anything wrong with that?"
"No, I wouldn't say wrong..." Gray scratches at his chin. "More... predictable?'
"Predictable," she repeats, and her hands lower as she lifts her head to look at him.
"Well, yeah." He raises a hand, waves it carelessly in her direction. "I mean, look at you now. Alm gets his shirt torn and you're fixing it for him on the same day. Bet he barely had to ask once."
"He didn't ask," she says primly, and her needle jabs hard into the tough material of his shirt, for emphasis. "I volunteered to help him mend it."
She remembers the feeling – the happiness of knowing that she could help Alm. That she could be useful to him.
A moment of silence passes. Gray scratches at the back of his head.
"Faye, look... I didn't really want to bring it up, but..." he lets out his breath in a tired sigh. "You ever think that maybe you're a little too hung up on Alm?"
She stops pretending to sew and instead lifts her head to regard Gray, eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"Look, it's no secret you like him," a frown crosses Gray's face, "except maybe from Alm himself. He can be like a brick sometimes. And honestly, good for you. Could do a lot worse. But... sometimes it's like your whole life just revolves around Alm, you know? I don't think that's healthy."
The two of them are fifteen and older than the other Ram kids – although the distinction has grown less important once they all hit double digits. Still, as they approach adulthood there are concepts they know vaguely exist and can even begin to understand, but that they cannot articulate or express well.
Perhaps this is one such time.
Faye's glare hardens and her hand's bunch into fists around the fabric of Alm's shirt as she feels a spike of anger.
Anger at the accusation that she is guilty of liking Alm too much – as if there could ever be such a thing. Anger that she can't find it in her to say that Gray is completely wrong, and anger at Gray for bringing it up like that so casually.
And anger at the vague realization that yes, she had been spending less and less time with the rest of her village friends, especially of late. Time spent hanging around Alm, making things for Alm, or trying to get his attention meant less time on other things.
"Are you jealous or something?" she snaps, now on the defensive and her guard raised. "I don't hang out enough with you, is that it?"
"I'm just saying," Gray raises his hands in a 'calm down' gesture, one that utterly fails to make Faye feel any more calm. "Look, remember that time I got my pants torn? I'll admit I pestered you to help me with fixing it 'cause you're the best of all of us at needlework-"
"That's what this is about?" She stands, the shirt and sewing work forgotten. "You're mad that you need to ask to get your things fixed when Alm doesn't?"
Gray stands too, and his mouth is drawn in a thin line. "Don't be stupid. This isn't about me, and you know that sewing thing is just an example. Look, have you been able to hold a conversation this past week without bringing up Alm? With your parents, even?"
And she flushes, biting hard at her lip because of course what Gray is saying is true and she can't deny it. Not that she's spoken much to anyone of late, but whenever she does it's usually wondering how Alm would like something or how he'd perform at that task instead. She turns away, not willing to let Gray see the expression on her face.
"What's it to you?"
"What – Faye, I just said! Something like that isn't healthy! Even if you like Alm, that's not how you behave around someone!"
"And I suppose you're the expert on relationships now, what with you trying to flirt with all other girls in the village?" Gray winces a little, but before he can make a response, Faye has already stooped to gather her sewing materials as her face burns. "That's enough. I'm leaving."
"Wha- Hey! Faye, wait!"
She doesn't stop to respond, choosing instead to storm back to her house and is only prevented from slamming the front door by the fact that her arms are full. She throws her sewing work onto the table and falls onto the bed, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to ignore Gray's words and the ring of truth in them.
(X)
The dawn is grey, the few feeble rays that make it past the thick cover of clouds doing little to dispel the gloom of early morning.
Faye stands there, staring at the ground in front of her. The dirt has been trampled smooth by countless feet that have trodden on the path ahead of her, and the road is wide. Her destination – their destination – lies ahead.
That road should be easy to follow, shouldn't it?
She stands and stares at the path. Her mind is a mess of chaotic, jumbled thoughts, all of it mixing together in a dark whirlpool.
Alm. Celica. Leon. Duma. Mila. Alm. Madness. Celica. Gods.
She can't pick any of them apart to focus on something. She can't even begin to try – just thinking about it makes her chest tighten and her breathing come faster.
The road should be easy to follow. She knows the path they have to take.
And yet, taking a single step forward now seems almost beyond her strength.
"Hey, Faye!" a shout from behind her snaps her out of her thoughts, and she turns.
"Layna? What's the matter?"
"I was hoping to catch you before you left," she says in response as she nears. "I kinda thought you'd be with the others – I mean, they're all in the town square packing up and all."
That's right, she suddenly realizes. She should be with the others. She should be helping them.
The realization that she's not seems to press down on her shoulders even further, and she sighs, one hand reaching up to rub at her eyes. "You're right. I should go help them."
"Hey..." there's a worried note in Layna's voice now and when Faye looks up the girl has her head tilted to the side. "You okay? You look like fresh hell."
All of a sudden, she sees Layna's eyes, not filled with concern like they are now, but worried... distraught.
"But please... if you can, find out what's happening to Lord Duma. And... if you can... help him, too."
A sharp intake of breath and she jerks back instinctively. Layna's hand that had been reaching out to her wavers and draws back, the owner of it blinking in surprise at Faye's reaction.
"I'm – sorry." Faye shakes her head and finds that she is averting her gaze. "I just... have a lot on my mind now."
"I fear that Lord Duma's madness might have consumed him entirely by now."
What would Layna do if she knew? How would she respond?
Layna recovers and flashes her a quick smile. "Hey, no problem. I know you all have had it rough. And to be honest I figure I hardly look any better, what with staying up all night over the forge. In fact!" She snaps her fingers and reaches into her pocket. "That's why I wanted to find you in the first place!"
Faye doesn't say anything, but the questioning look on her face is apparently enough of a prompt for Layna to grin as she holds out a small drawstring pouch.
"Go on! Take a gander!"
Slowly, Faye pulls open the pouch and tips it over. A tiny silver ring, affixed with a green gemstone, falls into her palm. And even as it sits there, unmoving, Faye feels the magic within her stirring, reacting to the power dwelling within the ring.
"I'm not a patch on my boss,"Layna says as she rubs the back on my head. "But I'm no amateur, either. I can tell you've got a way with magic, so... I made this ring for you. It'll make your spells stronger – help you focus it across greater distances and stuff like that." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "Hope it'll be... you know. Useful."
"...Why?" Faye finally asks as her hand closes around the ring.
"Why?"
"Well, it's just," Faye bites her lip, takes a deep breath, "we barely know each other. We just met yesterday. Why... spend the night slaving away to do this for me?"
Why... Faye swallows hard, past the lump in her throat. Why waste the time and effort on me?
There's no reply for a long moment, and finally she shrugs.
"Guess it's true we don't know each other that well, but I figured – what you're doing, it's a good cause, yeah? Helping Mila and maybe Lord Duma as well..." She can see a frown come across Layna's face. "I always want to do more – but I can't. I'm not... well, I'm not a soldier."
Neither was I. Faye doesn't say that out loud.
"Anyway! You're heading into Duma's Tower, and there's bound to be danger, even if by all rights there shouldn't be." A frustrated sigh. "The way I see it, I think doing something to try to help keep you safe is the least I could do."
Faye doesn't reply immediately. In her clenched hand, she can still feel the arcane power of the ring, a steady pulse of magic that mingles with her own. Finally she closes her eyes and gives a single nod.
"Thanks. I'll make good use of it." Her raging thoughts are not silenced, but the knowledge that someone had given her a gift quiets them for a moment.
"Just make sure you come back in one piece, okay?" The other girl flashes her a wide grin. "No matter what happens, as long as you're alive, you get to pick up the pieces and try again."
Faye nods at the words, and musters a smile of her own before she bids farewell to Layna.
(X)
They make good time on their journey through northern Rigel. Evidently the chance to rest in the comfort of the Hamlet had done them all good.
Faye's walk is mechanical, focusing simply on putting one foot ahead of the next.
Sometimes she looks up and catches a glimpse of Leon, astride his warhorse. He's quiet, and Faye can't shake the feeling that he's making it a point not to look at her.
Sometimes she sees Celica at the vanguard, with Conrad at her side, and she feels her stomach twist itself in knots and pain flares in her heart. Part of her wants to go up and talk to Celica about last night, but she can't trust herself to remain composed once she brings the subject up. Part of her burns inside with sullen resentment and doesn't want to acknowledge Celica at all, and she knows this is wrong and hates herself for it.
Genny walks beside her, but after a brief attempt at conversation she'd quickly realized Faye was in no mood to talk and so she'd left her to her own devices, only shooting her the occasional worried glance. Faye supposes she is grateful, or at least the tiny part of her not boiling with anxiety, jealousy, and anger is.
Once or twice she finds her thoughts drifting towards Alm, and then she feels her breath come up short. Whenever she catches herself, she clamps down on it, willing herself to focus – on the leaf-strewn floor ahead of her, of the feel of the cold, foggy air on her face. Something, anything, other than Alm right now (and wasn't it strange? Not very long ago she could happily while away entire afternoons daydreaming about him).
Flora seems to sense her distress, and moves closer to nuzzle her ear. Faye manages a brief smile as she rubs her hand along her pegasus' neck, but it fades too quickly and she is once more left with the silence of her thoughts.
It's almost a relief when Conrad's call of warning sounds, letting them know that they've made it to Duma's Gate.
The fortress is much like the others they've seen in Rigel – if anything, only more so. Built of black stone, it stands firm in their path.
There's no other route to Duma's Tower. There's no way to avoid battle.
She stares up at the bastion. Once she would have felt anxiety, uncertain of how they were going to accomplish their task to assault the place and to drive the defenders out.
Now she settles into a sort of numbed readiness. She has her tasks, and she'll fulfil them, as best she can. With a gesture from her, Flora stays behind, waiting patiently for the battle's conclusion.
They break out of the woods quickly, moving as fast as they can towards the fortress. Almost immediately she sees flashes of light coming from the gloom around her, and she catches sight of dark shapes nearing them. Even at this distance, she can feel the sparking of magic, and a few spells are flung their way.
Witches. She keeps her head down, and keeps running for the gates.
A phalanx of soldiers stand guard at the entrance, and from above she hears the telltale screech of gargoyles descending. Conrad, Saber and Deen charge forward to deal with the soldiers, leaving the rest to fend off the airborne assault. Most of the Terrors are cut down by the Whitewings before they land, but one swoops lows and lunges at Celica with a bloodstained blade.
Faye wasn't around for discussion about the battle plan, but she knows the basics – Celica will need to conserve her energy for breaking into the fortress itself. If possible, she shouldn't be using her magic against any of the low level grunts.
She raises her staff, and light blazes from it. Layna's ring thrums with magic, focusing the energies of her spell and allowing it to reach farther, fly faster. The gargoyle is sent crashing onto the cold earth. It does not rise again.
Celica half-turns to shoot her a grateful smile.
Faye almost returns it.
Her attention returns to the battlefield, and she sees Conrad has scattered the men standing guard. Saber and Deen wade into the melee, preventing them from regrouping. For a moment, the gate to the fortress is undefended.
Celica charges forward, and as she does her hands begin to glow. As she reaches the door, she presses both palms against it and pauses for a moment, gathering her magic into a focal point.
"RAGNAROK!"
Fire blossoms from her hands, and the entire fortress seems to shudder as a hole is blasted straight through the ringed and barred gates. Faye has to shield her eyes from the fiery glow and she feels a wave of searing heat against her cheek, but when it fades, she can see the party preparing to move in.
"Let's move, folks!" Jesse is the first one through, sword at the ready, and she can see him fending off the defenders as he charges inside. Others follows close behind, seeking to secure the breached area and to allow all of them to make it in.
Meanwhile, Celica doubles over, hands on her knees and panting for breath. And Faye is moving towards her almost before she realizes it.
But Genny reaches her first, and Mae is also beside her, keeping an eye out for approaching foes as the cleric crouches down and tries to restore Celica's energy.
Faye spares her a glance before she takes a deep breath and enters the darkened hallways of Duma's Gate.
The place is filled with twisting corridors that lead every which way, and Faye is grateful that she's not the one in front navigating the hallways, and trying to find her route. She's vaguely aware that they're heading towards the central hall of the keep, but beyond that, she keeps her head down, and follows.
And then, Faye gasps as she feels the twisting in her gut. Wrongness. Something that should not be, is here.
Out of the corner of her eye, movement.
She pulls short in her walk a moment before the fireball impacts the ground in front of her. Whirling, she comes face to face with two witches, both hovering in the air, both with arms outstretched and glowing with magic.
"Kh!" Faye raises her staff as the closer of the witches makes her attack, and her counterspell intercepts a moment before the fireball would have struck home.
The second one darts closer, lightning crackling along its fingertips and Faye has no time to create a spell to counter it. Once more, instinct takes over and she dashes forward, swinging her staff like a club. The jewelled tip of the weapon slams into the side of the witch's face and it staggers with a cry of pain.
She has a clear shot. One good hit should be able to finish the witch immediately.
So... why is she hesitating now?
"There aren't many young women in the Sage's Hamlet. Or, well... most of Western Rigel, really. Most of them..."
An image of Layna flashes in her mind.
"Well, you've seen the Witches, I guess."
Suddenly she realizes a gloved hand is reaching up at her, and a fireball is blossoming right in her face.
"Ah-"
"Get back!" A crackling noise from behind her, and a fireball, expertly aimed, impacts with the witch's hand just before she can release her own. The creature – the girl – staggers back, and Faye sees Sonya jumping forward, a thin blade clutched in her hand.
Sonya cuts down the first witch, and Faye sees the second one had taken advantage of the distraction, and is lunging at her, hands crackling with lightning.
Thunk.
The sound of an arrow piercing flesh. The second Witch crumples to the ground and does not move.
Faye turns and sees Leon holding his bow. He looks at her for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turns and heads on, already drawing another arrow from his quiver.
Leon...
"Are you hurt?" Sonya's voice comes from behind, and she feels a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine." Her voice sounds weak and wavering as she shakes her head.
Silence, just longer than absolutely natural.
Then, "You hesitated." There's no judgement in Sonya's voice. There's no easy answer to give, so Faye doesn't reply. She tightens the grip on her staff.
Sonya seems to understand, and gently she guides Faye away from the site of the clash.
Behind them, the bodies of the slain witches dissolve into nothing.
(X)
When Faye pushes open the door to the room assigned to her, she sees that Genny is already there, head bowed over her notebook and scribbling furiously away.
The sight is able to quirk her lips for a moment, but her shoulders feel like they're weighed down with lead and she walks – practically staggers into the room.
"Oh, Faye!" Genny smiles at her. "You were assigned this room too?"
"Yeah..." Faye shrugs. "I guess they know we're comfortable with each other by now."
After all, your friendship is one of those I haven't wrecked yet.
Genny hums a note of acknowledgement before she returns to her writing. Meanwhile, Faye settles herself down on the empty cot, and stares at the wall, her thoughts still in turmoil.
What is she supposed to do? What is she supposed to feel?
The raw pain and grief that had come from the knowledge that Alm didn't love her had subsided by now, leaving a sort of numb ache in its place. If anything, that's the easiest part of the mess of emotions to deal with. The pain will fade with time. It must.
But Celica... Celica. Faye doesn't know what to think. A part of her still squirms and writhes with resentment, a serpentine whisper that hisses the mantra of 'it's not fair, it's not fair' into her head. And yet she wants to strangle that thought, bury it and never look upon it again.
"If I fell in love with him, I could hardly blame you for doing the same."
It was so easy for her to say that, wasn't it? With how much more beautiful and refined she was, of course she would have felt that it would be more likely that Alm would choose her instead of Faye! A fine thing too, being magnanimous and caring when she was the one who could afford to look down on-
Stop it. STOP IT. She tries again to arrest her thoughts. Celica isn't like this. She doesn't look at Faye that way. She doesn't. She can't.
"Faye?" Genny's voice is soft as she leans over to take a closer look at Faye. "Are you... is everything okay?"
No, it's not, but there's no easy way to give an answer that will satisfy her and so Faye reaches up and rubs at her forehead.
"I... just need to clear my thoughts a little," she looks around and sees Genny's book, lying open an unattended on the table. "Sorry, am I disturbing your writing?"
"What? No, of course not. I was... well, I was just a little worried about you."
Genny doesn't know anything about the situation with Alm and Celica, and for that Faye is grateful. She doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want to explain it. She doesn't want her emotions to get the better of her, and so she shakes her head and manages a tired smile.
"I'll be fine. And thanks for your concern. But enough about me. So how's your writing going?"
"Oh? Er, it's going pretty well, actually. I'm just planning out the climax!" Genny's demeanour changes dramatically as she talks about her interests. Now both hands are clutched close to her chest, and she's beaming with delight.
"The climax? Isn't that a little early right now?" She knows from hearing various snippets about the work that she's nowhere near done with writing the story.
"Not really. After all, nobody says I need to write the whole thing in order!" She walks back to the desk and she picks up her book, flipping through the last couple of pages. "After all, I need to properly plan the reunion!"
"The reunion?" She digs through her mind, trying to recall scraps of what Genny had told her about before. "You mean between the princess and her father?"
"No, no, that part happens earlier." Genny shakes her head, and one finger runs down the side of the book. "I'm talking about the part where she finally gets rescued from danger by her true love!"
It takes all of Faye's self control to keep her expression neutral, and she is forced to bite her tongue. Genny doesn't seem to notice – it appears Faye's attempts to distract her with talking about her book had succeeded, after all.
"Her true love?" It's all she trusts herself to say.
"Uh huh! The prince she met earlier in the story!" Her eyes shine and her voice takes on a more dramatic tone as she wield the book like a trophy in the air. "Though both conceal their identities at first, a chance meeting in a quiet village sparks the first hint of passion between them! Though torn apart by the cruelties of fate, they still strive to find each other again, with distance only making the heart grow fonder!" She trails off into a quiet chuckle. "I mean, I know it's not the most original plotline, but the classics are classics for a reason, don't you think?"
Faye almost responds but she swallows it and nods along. Genny is innocent, and doesn't deserve her scorn.
And does Celica? Does Leon? Again, her own thoughts seem to mock her and all she can do is sit there and feel powerless.
"Faye?"
"Genny, do you have anyone you like?" The question is out of her mouth before she can really think about it, and she mentally kicks herself again. Why can't she let this go? Why does she keep worrying at it, like a dog with a bone?
Even though it hurts her to think about it...
Even though it makes her stomach churn...
"Me?" Genny purses her lips for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Well, no one in particular. But... I always wanted to have someone a bit older as a partner."
"Older?"
"Uh-huh! I just... hm, I think it'd feel nice, like you're really being taken care of!" She frowns a little. "Mae tells me that it's because I'm still young. That when I grow up a little I won't feel the same way and that I won't want to feel like I'm being coddled."
"Well, what does she know?" Faye shakes her head. "You like what you like. You shouldn't let other people tell you what's the correct way or – or the correct person to like in the first place." She's experienced it before; people trying to dissuade her from so doggedly pursuing Alm. She didn't think much of them then. She still doesn't now.
Not that it matters much anymore.
"Yeah, I guess that's true." Genny lets out a sigh. "Thanks for that, Faye. And... I hope that you're able to work out whatever relationship troubles you're having now, too."
"Wha-!" Faye sits up straighter, blinks once, twice, and feels her neck heating up. "What do you – I mean, you could tell?"
"Well, I'm not that unobservant, you know?" She lays the book down on the table and her hand reaches up to touch Faye's shoulder gently. Faye stiffens for a brief moment before relaxing. "And... well, I can tell you don't really want to talk about it. At least with me. But... I think if there's someone you can trust about this, you should. Talking things out... clearing the air... that's usually helps."
Deep down inside, Faye is scared. She doesn't want to blow up again, doesn't want to push someone away like she did with Leon. But she can hear the truth in Genny's words, and the echo of Uncle Mycen's own as well.
She takes a deep breath.
And she nods.
(X)
Ten days go by with Faye not speaking to Gray after their argument. It's probably the first major one they've ever had, and Faye isn't sure how she's supposed to properly deal with it.
She supposes leaving it alone isn't an option. Trying to hang out with the rest of her friends without including Gray is awkward and not really possible, especially when Alm tries his best to word his questions and statement so that she and Gray have to interact. He doesn't know the reasons behind his friends' argument, and Faye isn't keen on volunteering that information any time soon.
But she knows things can't go on like this. It's... knowing one of her friends is deliberately avoiding her is a miserable feeling, and she can only wonder if Gray feels the same.
She knows she should talk with him. At the very least, it'll help to clarify where things stand.
But it still catches Faye by surprise when it actually happens.
She's just returning from Alm's house after delivering a parcel to Uncle Mycen, when she catches sight of Gray in front of his own, dutifully chopping firewood for his family.
For a moment she's unsure if she should walk away, but then Gray lifts his head and catches her eye.
Well, nothing for it, then. Slowly, she walks over. Gray doesn't respond immediately.
After a moment, the log on the stand splits cleanly in two, and he lean the axe down and wipes the sweat from his face before he turns to face her.
"... Hey." His voice is quiet.
"Hey yourself." Something about that line feels like it should included with a smile, but Faye doesn't see herself as capable of that. Not right now.
Another awkward silence. Gray scratches at his neck before he lets out a sigh.
"So, I don't know about you, but having one of my friends mad at me is a pretty lousy feeling."
"Yeah," Faye nods her head. "I know what you mean. But..."
"But?"
She doesn't look directly at him as she speaks. It's easier that way, gathering her thoughts without looking at the expression on his face.
"I don't know," she admits after a moment. "Doesn't it seem weird to you? That we were fighting and now... do we just make up? Ignore it and move on? Isn't that a little light for what we've been doing?"
"Guess you could say that," Gray's expression is thoughtful. "But if you wanna look at it the other way, if this is something that's so easy to make up about, maybe it was never that big a deal in the first place."
The explanation fits, and it's a comforting thought. Maybe that's why she jumps to accept it.
"Sure," she says with a nod. "Sure, I could go with that."
"Right. So... sorry," Gray gamely offers a smile, "I shouldn't have pressed you about Alm like that."
"I'm sorry too," she offers her own smile in return, "I shouldn't have snapped at you. And... maybe you were right."
"Right?"
She manages a bashful chuckle as she scratches at her chin. "Well, I was thinking about it, and... I really do bring Alm up a lot. I mean, if it bothers you... well, then I guess I could make an effort not to do it. As much, I mean."
There's a laugh from Gray, and suddenly all the tension is gone, just like that. "Well, nobody ever said broadening one's horizon's was a bad thing."
She laughs too, and that night she invites him over for dinner and they while away the hours swapping stories about their friends and their misadventures.
From that day on, she does her best to watch her tongue in front of her friends, and not to bring Alm up quite so much – at least, when he's not part of the discussion. For his part, Gray will sometimes subtly – and not so subtly – steer the conversation down a different path if Faye rambles on too much about one thing, as she is wont to do.
It works, and as Faye sticks with them, talking about the harvests, and training, and the day to day life in Ram Village, she knows.
She doesn't want this to ever change.
(X)
When Faye sets out from her room, she doesn't have a real destination in mind. Notwithstanding her acknowledgement that she should talk with the others, she's still not sure who exactly to seek out, or what she would even say when she found them.
It had always been easier, she realizes. Easier to be quiet, clutch hands to her chest, and to not say anything. Keep her thoughts to herself, and speak nothing of it.
But that wouldn't solve anything in the long run. She'd seen that for herself, the day she watched Alm's back as he vanished through the village gates, and now that she knows...
A fresh pang strikes her heart, and she shakes her head as she draws to a stop.
Would it have changed anything? If I'd been more open with Alm... if I'd poured my heart out to him, before the day that Deliverance knight arrived... would I have been able to keep him with me?
Would I not have lost Alm after all?
She's so wrapped up in her thoughts that it takes her a while to realize she's wandered almost to the battlements of the fortress. For once the sky is relatively clear, and she can see the sun, setting in the horizon. Cast in fiery red, she can see a dark shape, tiny and indistinct in the distance.
Duma's Tower.
Celica is standing so still that it takes Faye a moment too realize she's even there, but she is, back to her, staring out at the same tower. The only sign of movement are her hands – her left one is once more massaging the palm of her right.
"Celica..." Her voice is soft, but apparently Celica hears it as she whirls around to face her.
"Oh, Faye! You're here too?" She's walking over, all smiles, all warmth and kindness, and Faye feels her stomach twisting again. "I didn't get a chance to thank you. Leon's already passed me the sword. He said you wanted to give it to me, but left it in his room by accident."
Why?
"If there's nothing urgent, you should go get some rest," she sighs, and reaches up to rub at the side of her face. "We're probably going to increase our marching pace after this, so we'll all need to make sure we're at our best for what comes next."
"Yeah, I know... Thanks." She can't bring herself to meet Celica's gaze.
"Faye...? Is something wrong?" She can hear the concern in Celica's voice as she steps closer. One hand comes up, fingers brushing hesitantly against the sleeve of her shirt before Celica lets it fall to the side.
Faye closes her eyes. Celica is so kind, so thoughtful.
A better person than me. Her, riven with jealousy and self-doubt.
And so... so, she can do this much. She can. She can.
She opens her mouth, but the words seem to stick in her throat. She grits her teeth, swallows, and tries again.
"Celica, I just... wanted to let you know." Something writhes in her, something black and angry that howls about the monstrous unfairness of it all, but she pushes forward as fast she can. If she can just say the words, then maybe it will seem more real. "I... I won't get in your way."
"Get in my way?" A confused pause. "I... what do you mean?"
Of course. Celica wasn't like Faye. She had responsibilities, duties as a princess and as leader of their group. She wasn't going to spend every waking moment pondering her relationship with Alm.
"I mean... I mean," the words feel like gravel in her throat. "You and Alm. I won't be selfish. I won't ruin it for you, and for him."
"Me and Alm?" One hand goes to her chest, and Faye finds herself biting her lip as Celica frowns. "I..."
And only now does Faye remember that Celica doesn't know she was outside the sage's house when they were talking, and she sighs. She's such a mess today.
"Back in the Hamlet," she says as she takes a deep breath. "I... heard you and Alm talking. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, well, I couldn't help it." A distant part of her wonders at spilling all this, but she shuts it down.
They had promised no more secrets from each other, had they not?
"You heard that? Oh, Faye..." Celica starts, before shaking her head. "But... I was really happy to see Alm again, that's true. But Alm didn't say he loved me or anything of that sort. So you don't need to-"
"What?" Faye shakes her head. "He didn't need to say it, Celica! You mean you couldn't tell? The way he spoke to you! The way he sounded! The way he..." she breaks off, and one hand reaches up to brush limp strands of hair out of her eyes. "You never directly told me you liked Alm either, you know. But I could still tell. I think anyone could. Just from the way you talk about him."
And now Celica is the one silent, her mind silently replaying the conversation, trying to recall the way Alm had spoken, had behaved to her.
And Faye feels that same anger within her again. Alm loved Celica, and she didn't realize it? She could speak to him directly and look into his eyes, and she could miss out on that?
If that was the case, maybe she didn't... she didn't deserve-
"Faye..." the mention of her name brings her back to the present, and Celica is looking at her again, with eyes that hold... worry? Pity?
It takes all of Faye's effort not to step away.
"So, yes." She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Like I said... I know Alm... he's chosen you... over me."
No.
No, that wasn't right, was it?
Alm hadn't chosen Celica over Faye, because he had never seen Faye as an option at all.
Another deep breath, and she feels the sting of tears that prickle at the back of her eyes.
"So... I won't... I... won't..."
She'd thought she'd exhausted her tears about this, back in the Sage's Hamlet. That all that was left was the feeling of aching emptiness in her chest. But apparently the pain in her heart was still capable of flaring up and burning her. One shaky hands reaches up to her face, to wipe the tears that blur her vision.
And then, warms hands, reaching around her, and she's pressed close to Celica, and her tears are now spilling down onto Celica's shoulder.
"... I'm sorry, Faye."
"Why?" She speaks through her pain, and while one arm instinctively reaches up to clutch at Celica as well, the other scrubs angrily at her eyes. "You don't..." she has to say it. Even if she doesn't believe it, "you don't have anything to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I'm sorry anyway," Celica's embrace tightens, her voice soft in Faye's ear. "I didn't want my happiness to come at your expense."
Celica. So understanding. So perfect.
"Why?" Faye shakes her head, unable to make her voice more than a trembling whisper. "Why? Why not me? Why you?"
You don't know Alm. You haven't seen him for seven years. I know him. I've been at his side all this while. I'd do anything for him, if only he asked.
It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair.
The voice in her head pounds, growing louder the more she tries to ignore it.
She can feel Celica shaking her head, and then a soft admission. "I... I don't know."
And something about the way she says it, the uncertainty in Celica's own voice, causes the tightness in Faye's chest to ease, ever so slightly.
She lowers her head, and cries into the shoulder of Celica, the person she'd lost to.
She feels that if she weren't being held, she'd fall to the floor like a broken doll, all the strength gone from her body.
But Celica does hold on to her.
And so, she remains standing, holding on to Celica as well.
(X)
It is three days of hard marching later that they reach the Swamps of Duma, the last obstacle between them and the tower.
Faye spends most of the journey in silence. Her thoughts on Alm's relationship with Celica has reached an uneasy middle ground. She doesn't hate Celica or anything (she can't, she never will) but she can't just sit and talk with her, the way they used to. At least not now.
Time. She just needs some time. After all this nonsense, after the mess with Duma is over.
Thoughts of Duma once more leads her to remember the conversation she had overheard, and once more she feels anxiety trickle down her spine.
Is Mila...
Part of her wants to talk to Celica about it, to ask her if it's true that the gods might be going mad, and if there's anything they can do. But she remembers Nomah's words, remembers the quiet devotion Celica has for Mila, and she finds herself hesitating whenever there's a chance to bring it up.
Leon still hasn't spoken to her since that night. Faye supposes she can't blame him. She wants to apologize, but... what is there to say?
She pats Flora on the haunch, and continues walking.
"Are you all right?"
She looks up to see Sonya walking at her side, arms folded and a tolerant smile on her face.
"People seem to keep asking me that lately," she says by way of reply.
"Well, maybe you've given them reason to ask." Sonya shrugs. "After all, you've been a lot more broody ever since you left the Sage's Hamlet."
"I guess..." Maybe she can share a crumb of the truth. Sonya knows about the Duma Faithful, so maybe she'd be able to offer some insight. "I got to chatting with someone from the Hamlet and I learnt that the people there think something's gone wrong with Duma."
"Well, not a hard conclusion to draw, really."
"Hah," Faye allows herself a bitter chuckle as she looks about the desolate landscape, "I know. But I also learnt... the witches... they used to be women. Normal women, from all over Rigel."
There's no reply for a long moment.
"I know you said before, something about how the witches were products of Duma, but I never really understood it. But now... he's turning normal people – normal women, into them?"
Finally, Sonya lowers her head and sighs.
"That's right. A woman becomes a witch when Duma consumes their soul. In exchange for power, so the saying goals – for all the good it does them now."
Faye feels her spine turn to ice.
"So... all those witches..."
"Yes. They were all once ordinary women. Living their lives. Well, I don't doubt a few of them really did give him their souls willingly, but for most..." Sonya's expression is hard, and her fists are clenched. "They were sacrificed just to appease Duma's thirst for power. Everything's changed... from what I knew, growing up."
The desires of a mad god...
Then she frowns. "But... er, Sonya?"
"Hm? What is it, little one?"
"I don't mean to be rude, but... didn't you have command of a few witches, back in the desert?"
She heaves a sigh. "Yes, I did. I managed to wrest control of them from an Arcanist, a few years back. After that... well, it wasn't like I could leave them on their own. So I supposed I became their owner, if you want to think of it that way."
Faye looks at the ground, at the muddy earth that squelches under her boots. "If what you say is true about their souls being taken, then maybe death would be merciful for them."
"You know, maybe you're right." Sonya laughs, a harsh sound. "But I wanted... no, if there's still some way to save them, then I want to find it."
Faye blinks and looks up at Sonya. Her expression is distant and thoughtful, as she looks up at the sky. "That's my goal," she says with a nod. "To find a way to cure the witches... to be able to restore these people to their former selves."
That's a noble goal, Faye has to admit. Certainly loftier than anything she herself could aspire to. But still...
"Didn't you say their souls were already eaten? That... doesn't sound like something you can cure, to be honest."
"Well, nobody said it would be an easy task." Sonya folds her arms and heaves a sigh. "This is something that's important to me, though. I can't give up so easily."
They continue to walk in silence. The mud is starting to become more difficult to traverse, and Faye grunts as they continue to wade through.
"Sonya?" Faye pauses for a moment, weighing her words. "What if... if it turns you out can't actually cure the witches... If you end up not being able to fulfil your dreams... what then?"
"What then, huh?" Something about the way Sonya looks at her makes it clear she knows that Faye isn't really talking about her. But she nods, "Well, in that case I suppose I'd – look out!"
Alerted by the cry, Faye dodges to the side at the last second as some skyborne object plunges into the ground in front of her. Her first thought is that it's a gargoyle, but the movement and speed is all wrong. And as it rises up again, Faye sees it's more like a floating ball with multiple eyes all along the body.
"Mogalls!" Sonya is raising her hands, and magic gathers in them. "Ambush! Be careful!"
And then dark shapes are rising up all around them, and what had been a quiet march is replaced with the thunder and fury of battle.
Faye casts a quick look over the battlefield to see where aid is needed – and she lets out a gasp of surprise. What appears to be a massive armoured knight lumbers up to her, a spear clutched in its giant hands. It moves with a speed that belies its strength, and it's charging straight for her.
"Seraphim!"
Her bolt of holy magic strikes the fiend dead on, and the monster knight staggers – but only a moment before it rallies and continues charging her again.
Just before it reaches her Deen tackles it, and his blade rends the chestplate in two. Still it stands, and its only when Faye fires off a second spell that the creature finally topples.
"Greater Terrors," Sonya's expression is set. "This is no ordinary cantor. Whoever's in charge here is one of their elite."
Faye steps back, and turns her attention towards healing the wounded of their party. The armoured fiends are rallying points, massive creatures that must be dealt with through an overabundance of destructive power – but focusing on them gives the floating eyeballs – the Mogalls – chances to dart in and harry the attackers.
Faye twists to dodge a lunging eyeball, and she catches a glimpse of white, shooting straight up into the grey around them.
Flora! The suddenness of battle must have shocked her, and she's instinctively taken to the skies. For a moment, Faye hesitates, torn between chasing after her pegasus and aiding her friends on the ground. Mogalls see the panicked pegasus as an obvious target, and three of them fly up as well, chasing after her.
Then she sees Catria swooping in, spear levelled and movements sure, stabbing through one of the Terrors and blocking the rest from reaching Flora. Faye can only breathe a silent prayer of thanks to her friend, before she returns her attention to those around her.
The battle rages on, and Faye catches sight of Celica, flanked by Boey and Genny, working together to bring down another one of the fiends. With a nod, she starts to head towards them.
She's taken two steps before a Mogall plummets from the air, slamming into Boey and sending him sprawling. She sees, rather than hears, Genny's shout of alarm, and then she's scrabbling to heal him and get him back to his feet.
Meanwhile, Faye's attention is caught by the looming shape that has appeared from the darkness – a man, dressed in robes of purple, red, and gold. His arms are spread out in a gesture of welcome, and as Faye scrambles to Celica's side – to provide support and ensure she won't face him alone – the man begin to speak.
"So you've come, Anthiese. Heh heh heh. I am so pleased!"
"Jedah!" Celica's blade is drawn, but she doesn't lift it as she faces the man. "I am here, as promised. I would see Mila with my own eyes! Call your Terrors off!"
"I am afraid I cannot comply." The man shakes his head once in a gesture of mock sorrow. "My invitation was for you alone. Your companions, meanwhile, are trespassers upon the holiest site in all of Rigel. And my loyal guardians are beholden to slay any who violate Lord Duma's sanctuary."
"What? That wasn't part of our bargain!"
"Whether you come alone or with a gaggle of hangers-on is irrelevant to me. If you wish your companions spared, then pray they can surpass this trial." His grin widens and he extends an open palm. "Of course, there is always the alternative-"
"Back OFF!" Faye snaps as she raises her staff. The familiar energies gather in her – and freeze in place. Instead of surging out in a destructive spell that would draw out the man's life, the magic she had gathered disperses into nothing as she feels her muscles seize.
What-
The man's smile has vanished, and he turns to look at Faye. "Little worm... know your place!" The outstretched hand turns into a clenched fist, and Faye feels magic gathering.
"No! Stop!" At her side, Celica raises a hand as well, but then she shudders and steps back, a pained expression on her face. "What – my magic-?"
"I've no need for any of you, save the princess." The man continues, and as he opens his palm, a tiny black ball of darkness floats up from it. "Now, begone-!"
Almost too fast for the eye to follows, the bolt of darkness is hurled at Faye. She dodges at the last moment – almost. But pain sears her arm, she almost loses her grip on her staff as she cries out.
"Faye!" A call from behind her – Genny's voice. And soothing light is bathing her wound.
"Genny, get back!" Faye manages as she stumbles through the waterlogged terrain. "That man – our magic doesn't work-"
"JEDAH!" The howl of rage is bestial, and it takes her a long moment to realize that it's Sonya who made that scream. She sees her charges forward, blade drawn – but the man – Jedah – simply stands still, and still the strike fails to draw any blood.
"Sonya... you're here?" Jedah's eyes widen for a moment before they harden into a predatory glare. "You always were the most troublesome of your sisters. You could have joined them in service to our lord, but instead here you are, making scraps as a mercenary."
"You stole my sister's lives and fed their souls to Duma!" And Faye's eyes widen as she realized the personal nature of Sonya's relation to the witches. "I swear I'll avenge them, here and now!"
"And how will you do that? Useless girl." Jedah sneers and he waves a finger. Another bolt of darkness lances forth, and Sonya staggers back, clutching at her midsection. "What will you accomplish with your meagre training and abilities?"
This time, Jedah spreads his hands, and Faye can feel the new surge of energy – it's massive, far stronger than his earlier cantrips, on par with the amount Celica uses for her strongest spells.
"Sonya!" She sees Genny break away and rush up to her, staff raised. Sonya coughs and Faye can see blood trickling down her chin as she lifts an arm to ward her off.
"No-! Genny, get back!"
"Oh, you care for this girl, do you?" Malice shines in Jedah's eyes. "Then I grant you the joy of watching her perish!"
The spell is flung – and it morphs into the demonic skull Faye remembers. Genny is midstride, caught by surprise. There's no way for her to dodge. The skeletal jaw creaks open-
"No!" Suddenly, Genny is facedown in the mud, away from the spell, and the waves of darkness are instead covering -
"SONYA!" Faye's scream sounds alien to her own ears.
She staggers back under the onslaught, one step, two. Then, both hands raise, and they glow with silver light.
"Excalibur!"
The blades of slicing wind are called forth, and somehow, this time the spell succeeds. They slam into Jedah, and the man is sent staggering. Blood spatters on the ground where he stands.
"Gah!" A pause. "Keh heh heh. Such delightful struggling. Very well. In honour of your desperate clawing for life, I will withdraw for now." Jedah slowly wipes the blood from his mouth before he shifts his attention to Celica, still staring at him silently. "Anthiese! I shall await you at the pinnacle! There, you may see the truth for yourself – and there you may decide."
A clap of thunder, and where Jedah stood, there is nothing. Abruptly, the forest around them grows silent.
Faye stands, staring at the empty space on the ground for a long moment. And then, suddenly, she remembers Sonya, and she turns-
Sonya is lying on the muddy ground. Genny is staggering to her feet, trying to get to her, and Faye moves over as well, preparing to heal her.
But as she nears, Sonya smiles up at her. The smile is gentle.
Tired.
Faye feels her heart lurch.
"Don't... bother."
"What?" Faye's brain seems to have frozen, which is why she can't articulate the fear, the creeping unease of something she knows-
Something that can't happen.
"Didn't I... tell you before?" A chuckle, and this one brings with it a spurt of dark blood. "Aren't very many... who can take a Death spell... and... live to tell... of it."
"No... no!" Genny has reached her side, and heedless of Sonya's own words, she raises her staff, and light shines down.
But when it fades, Sonya is still pale – too pale, and still lying on the ground, her breathing still slow.
"No..." Genny is all but mouthing the words now, as she kneels down by Sonya's side. "This isn't – It's not... If I... if I knew stronger spells I could-"
"Hey... don't cry." Sonya's lips curl upwards and she exhales, a long wheezing breath. "I said so... didn't I? It'd be a waste... to let... anything... spoil... your pretty faces..."
And Faye finds that she doesn't know what to say. What to do. All she can do is also crouch by Sonya's side, hold her hand.
But... no. No, it can't end like this!
"Sonya! Sonya, don't die! You can't die! You still had a goal, didn't you? You wanted to learn how to save the witches! You wanted – you wanted to restore your sisters! If you die now, you'll-!" She's cut off by the tightness in her throat, and she rubs angrily at her eyes as the tears blur her vision.
"Ah... that's right..." Sonya closes her eyes, and for a horrible moment Faye fears she will slip away right then and there. "Marla... Hestia... I'm sorry. I couldn't... save you after all..."
"Ahh... aahhhhh..." Faye can't say anything. She can't do anything but make strangled sounds as she sits and clutches at Sonya's hand.
"But... it's okay..." she feels Sonya's fingers tighten against her own, slightly. Ever so slightly. "Faye... you wanted to know... if I never reach... my goal... what then?"
She can't respond.
"But it's fine... it wasn't... what I intended... but I could still... protect... the both... of... you..."
Sonya's speech slows. Faye's heart is in her throat.
"No! Sonya! Sonya, hang on!"
"That's... why. It's... fine."
Sonya breathes out, a long shallow breath, one last time.
And she smiles.
(X)
"What the hell was that?" Faye can't remember the last time she swore. But then, she can't remember the last time she was this upset. Not when she realized Alm had left her behind. Not when she had learned that Alm loved someone else.
She stands in front of Celica, who is quiet, her face pale. Behind them, Genny continues to mourn over Sonya's corpse. A part of Faye wants to join her, let loose her grief. But a larger part wants answers. A target for her anger.
Celica looks to side, obviously fighting to keep herself calm. "I – I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't think it would turn out like this."
"You knew that person? He was obviously expecting you! And what's this about a bargain?" The words come out from her mouth in a torrent, one question barely asked before she moves on to the next one. She can't stop them, she can't think hard about what she's demanding or saying.
Celica opens her mouth to answer, but then the words seem to get stuck in her throat and she squeezes her eyes shut. "I'm... sorry, Faye. I need... I need you to trust me. At least on this."
"Trust you? Trust you?" Faye gesticulates wildly for a moment, before pointing vaguely south. "Celica, I've followed you all the way from Ram Village! I've literally crossed the continent for you! Do you think that would have happened if I didn't trust you? Why can't you trust me?"
"I do!" The answer is given with a vehemence that startles Faye. Well, that's only fair, she thinks sourly. It seems Celica is as upset with insinuations of a lack of trust as much as she is. "I trust you all with my very life! But this is... different." She takes a deep breath. "I need to... I need to see Mila. With my own eyes. It's only then I can make a decision."
The words stick in Faye's mind. Her breathing quickens, and she finds her fists are clenched.
"As long as no one does anything rash, seeing the truth of the matter with our own eyes is probably for the best."
The words from the frigid night float up to her.
"Celica places so much faith in the Mother... I don't want her to worry any more than she needs to."
"Celica, is this... is this about Mila... and her..." She pauses, her mouth working for a moment. "Her... state of mind?"
Celica's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. That's all the confirmation Faye needs.
"So you knew too." Another secret. Although I'm hardly one to talk in this case. "How? I overheard Sage Halcyon and Father Nomah discussing it. But they were certain you didn't suspect anything." She pauses, sifting through the possibilities. "Was it that man who told you? Jedah? Was this part of your bargain?"
"I... nothing is confirmed yet." Celica repeats, her voice emphatic. "I need to see Mila first. I promise you, Faye. I swear to you, I'll tell you everything after that."
Perhaps in better circumstances, Faye might have left it that, and ignored the unease in her heart. But these aren't better circumstances, and Faye can still hear the faint sounds of Genny's weeping, and so her glare and her heart hardens. "Why can't you tell me now? We both know Mila might be going mad. If that's not the worst part, what is?'
Celica shakes her head, looks away. "It's – you wouldn't understand-"
It's exactly the wrong thing to say at that precise moment, and likely Celica realizes it as soon as the words leave her mouth. But it's too late, and Faye feels her jaw tighten.
"Yes... I wouldn't understand. I guess you're right. After all, what would silly little village girl Faye know of the affairs of gods and royals? Better for her to just be quiet and follow orders. Isn't that correct, your highness?" She whirls, about to storm off, to where she does not know.
"No, wait!" Celica reaches out a hand, touching her shoulder. "I didn't mean-"
"NO!" She surprises herself with the strength of her yell as she jerks, slapping Celica's hand away. "No, you do not get to take those words back!"
She sees a room. Herself, wrapped in warm blankets, mouth wide with shock. Leon, jaw tight and lips pale with outrage.
After all, I didn't get to take my own words back either.
"You were the one who brought us out here!" Her voice is raw in her throat. "You were the one who made a bargain with that man over... over something! And he ambushed us and tried to kill all of us, and you still refuse to tell us what this is about?" Faye pauses to take a deep, ragged breath.
Celica looks at her with lost, haunted eyes, and Faye opens her mouth, one more time.
"He killed Sonya! Sonya is dead!"
Because of you. Those three words are on the verge of leaving her tongue when she clamps down, and swallows them, feeling them burn like coals in her throat. Even now, even in the throes of her sorrow and outrage, she knows that uttering those words will lead them across a threshold they can never come back from.
And so instead the two of them continue to stare at each other, taking deep gulps of the cold evening air.
From above comes the beating of wings, and Faye sees Catria helping to guide Flora down for a landing. The pegasus knight looks over both of them, but says nothing as she releases Flora and returns to the skies, probably to scout for any other potential attackers.
Faye automatically moves to rub Flora's flank, calming her down, and on an impulse cllimbs atop her. The movements are smooth and automatic now, and suddenly she finds herself wanting to take to the sky, and to fly away from all this.
Back south. Back home.
Back to Ram, where war is a distant rumour, and witches are unheard of, and death happens in bed surrounded by loved ones, not in a forsaken hellhole of mud and fog.
But she doesn't.
There's enough, just enough of her that refuses to abandon Celica, and Genny, and Catria, and Leon, and everyone else.
And it just makes her feel even worse.
"You know, for the longest time, I kept my feelings for Alm a secret. I was worried about how you'd react, about what bringing that into the open would mean for our friendship." She says this, and then turns to look at Celica. "But if this is what our friendship is worth, then why did I even bother?"
Without waiting for a response, she snaps the reins, and Flora leaps into the air. Faye looks over the landscape, at the rest of the party beneath her. She can see Saber and Jesse, crouching over Sonya's body and wrapping it in a shroud, and she feels an odd sense of guilt that she should go down and help.
Instead she wheels in the air, and looks up, at their destination.
Duma's Tower looms ahead.
Chapter End
Author's Notes:
So. This chapter.
Biggest thing for me for a large chunk of this chapter was trying to strike the balance. I wanted to show Faye somewhat self-destructing here, and also to hint that those problems didn't just spring up out of nowhere – stress and circumstances are making it worse, definitely, and she's just not coping very well at all – particularly when most of the people she looks up to for strength and guidance aren't available for... reasons. At the same time part of her reactions are rooted in her flaws that she's carried all the way from her days in Ram.
And of course, at the same time the goal is still to present her as sympathetic, so I didn't want to go too far in the other direction too. Well, the results will speak for themselves so I hope you found it compelling.
Another issue in terms of 'striking the balance' was having Faye's personal conflict about Alm be measured against the bigger problem of Duma potentially going insane. She's depressed and worried about both things, albeit not really in equal measure. And so I wanted to write it so she's juggling both these issues and... well, not really succeeding at dealing with either one.
Also pacing. This was partly the chapter where stuff is all supposed to come to a head, and I can only hope that it didn't feel too rushed or cluttered to the readers. Basically the big emotional chapters are the ones that a big bugbear to write because you can't stop worrying that if you do something wrong the whole thing ends up going over like a lead balloon.
Also, Sonya. I don't have that much to say here, except that I've been planning and working on this for a long time. I hope I did her justice.
As always, thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it, and comments and criticisms are very much welcome!