Tales of Symphonia © Namco
A/N: This chapter has been heavily rewritten.
"We're losing her!"
Screaming. The world is dead around me, and my eyes stare vacantly into the empty space above my head. The face of a doctor invades my vision, and a sudden jolt of electricity shocks my body.
Again, a third time. My fingers are tingling, as are my toes and the doctors and nurses scramble around the room, like beheaded chickens. My head is split into four pieces and one of them is missing.
A loud buzzing settles into my ears, and the room whirls around me in a sudden vortex of white. Splashes of colour drip into the empty canvas, spinning and crashing into the empty space. Invisible walls stop them from hitting me and instead they splatter right above my face.
The clicking of shoes on marble floor invades the distorted world and a jumble of words comes from all around me. A sheet is draped over my face, but it doesn't stop me from watching each colour of the visible spectrum drip into the spinning whirlwind of white. They're blending and meshing together, like a ripped and destroyed painting from a blind man who has never been outside a day in his life.
Moving. The bed beneath me shifts and I'm left in a room. The once white walls are now a disgusting heap of mashed up and desecrated browns and greens and once the winds stop, they still. The mess stays and is all I have to occupy myself with before a hammer comes and smashes it into a billion pieces and I'm ripped from my deathbed.
"Sh," the hands shush me, even though I haven't even breathed, "stay silent and we'll get out."
We're underwater and the hallways are swarming with sharks and whales. They smash into invisible walls, still stained by the colours that had freely thrown themselves to their death just minutes before. The glass shakes, and the cloth on my face is washed away by the water as it swarms over both of us.
The hands are a man and their face shows up right in front of mine. I feel the ground moving as his lips form words that I'm too tired to figure out. His ears are wide and knife like and black hair frames his near snow white skin. His hands are cold.
The water slides down a sewage drain and suddenly we're in a forest. The vines wrap around my throat and rip out my lungs, leaving me screaming silently for air. Centipedes climb through my ears and inject poison into my brain.
Then I'm laying back on the bed with the sheet over my face again. Everything repeats; an exact replica of what just happened, except the centipedes stay clear away from my face and instead slither up the vines of the trees.
I'm dropped, and the face of my mother flashes on the distorted and destroyed canvas before being smashed into oblivion by an explosion. Honking slithers through my ears, making my brain rattle and my head ache. I reach for the broken pieces, and despite the fact that I can feel my arm moving, it stays firmly grounded at my side. I feel myself sit up; and yet, I still stay laying on my back. I perform actions that my body doesn't respond to, despite the fact that I can feel and recognize the responses.
A peacock drills into the left side of my neck and maggots start to eat at the flesh. When only a hollow hole remains a cold and smooth rock is placed in the hole and a bracelet is slipped around the stone. It connects to the severed and destroyed nerves and veins, pumping energy and fluid through my body. Warmth engulfs me and suddenly I'm breathing again. I twitch my fingers, and they respond — and when I reach for the few, tiny remaining shards of my mother's face, my arm responds and shoots up.
My hand sets itself on fire when it touches the invisible glass, and I can actually scream this time as the pain shoots through me with a new found energy. It destroys the nerves, and the hot liquid from the stone rushes to the spot, numbing the pain and repairing each one as they're burned away by the white hot glass.
I wake up with a hiss, yanking my fingers away from the dying flames. Sheena stands from her rock and when she realizes I'm awake wordlessly motions around us. I realize I woke up right in time for my watch so I stretch my back, letting out a small groan. I rub my non-burnt hand against my cheek, a strange feeling of disease resting in my gut. I can't place a reason for it.
As Sheena settles down to sleep I yawn. I reach for one of the apple gels I bought, the moon shining overhead as I smear the contents of it across the burn. I only use half of it, so I firmly clasp it shut again and put it back where I got it from.
'Why was I reaching for the flame in the first place?' I wonder, watching the smoke lazily rise into the air. My head twinges painfully, the beginnings of a headache starting to creep up on me. I yawn again.
Night watch is boring—there's really nothing to do. It's too dark to read, there's no one to talk to but myself, and in the end all I have left is my thoughts which … well, I really would prefer to stay away from when I'm supposed to be on alert.
The flames continue to flicker, nearly burnt out by now, and I get to my feet to grab some more wood for the flames. I pick up a few pieces of dried wood from the forest at our back, searching for any shrubbery that would work, and when I return to the campsite I feed the flames with the wood and shrubs.
The flames pick up, not enough to be of any danger but high enough that my cheeks are warm, and I sigh in relief. The headache is quickly disappearing and I take a drink from my canteen, crossing my legs underneath me.
I wrap my blanket around my shoulders so the wind doesn't affect me as much. Quietly, I begin to hum; at first random tunes but, as time ticks on, they become the melody to songs.
"You reside in brand disguises … just to get, get away from it all," I hum the next part before continuing, "falsify the life you're hiding … just to get, get away from it all …"
I fall back to humming, drawing my knees to my chest and letting my eyes wander the campsite. Nothing suspicious. Not that there ever really is; you'd think that, with all the monsters we encounter during the day, that it's be a lot more dangerous at night, but … surprisingly, it's really not.
"Kill the lights, kill the actor, kill the actress …"' my eyes are heavy despite being wide awake and I let them slip shut. "I'm afraid that the spotlight dried you up—"
I trail off when I hear a faint crack from the forest, my voice going dead. I don't hum anymore and I adjust the sword at my side, letting the blanket slip from my shoulders so I can move if needed.
Eventually, after a long wait, I hear it.
It's faint and, I'll admit, if I wasn't specifically listening for it I would've missed it. Something—either someone or something is in the forest. I tense and for some reason it feels as if the forest moves. Pulsates, even.
Yet it isn't, at the same time.
It's … hard to explain. All that matters is that I can feel something there, and it doesn't feel right.
I get up as quietly as I can, looking over at Sheena to check if she's asleep. When I see she is I edge my way towards the forest, my sword grasped in my hands due to my belt still being at the campsite. I take care to avoid stepping on any branches or leaves.
When I'm finally surrounded by the trees and shrubbery of the forest I let myself breathe and brace myself up against a tree trunk. The pulsations have faded into noises; voices, to be exact, and while I can hear them there I'm not close enough to understand what's being said. It's like trying to listen through static.
The forest pulsates again. I shudder, the feeling going right through me and making me feel strangely nauseous. It's compressing and decompressing at a rapid pace, flicking between a heavy, smoldering smog to something weak and fragile like morning fog.
I try to put a name to it, but find nothing.
I peek around the tree and find nothing. I prepare myself before stepping out and heading towards the compressions, listening carefully for anything that could be recognizable. I have to force the feeling out of my head but the further I go, the harder it becomes.
It's almost choking me. I find each breath harder, and it takes quite a bit of effort to keep my breathing even so that I don't become noticeable. Finally, I stop, when the voices tune in and I can understand the words being spoken.
"Are you sure they came this way?" A feminine voice questions. I quickly duck low, using the bushes and leaves as cover. My sword is clutched awkwardly between my stomach and knees. "If this entire thing ends up being useless …"
"Don't worry," a male answers. I swallow dryly. "Ev saw them. I doubt they're just wandering around aimlessly, and this is the path that leads to Hima—the most direct one, that is."
The woman lets out a sigh. "They could've taken one of the other routes," she argues. "Who knows?"
"Do you have to question everything?" he snaps, his voice becoming irritated. "The maps lead through here. Why would they take any other route? Ev said it herself; they're not from around here. It's not like they're going to know the back routes."
There's silence, before reluctantly the woman says, "Fine. Are you sure this will even work?"
"One of them was using paper," he answers dryly. "Magic paper, that is. The other was just flinging around a sword. We'll have no trouble taking them on."
My heart catches in my throat. Paper and sword as a weapon—they're talking about Sheena and me. Who's Ev, though? Sheena and I haven't really interacted with many people, and—
The bandits.
The woman was left wounded; if these people are her comrades, then it's likely they're coming for revenge. The others that were with the witch—Ev, probably—are likely dead.
It's not like we looted their corpses, but if we killed one of their own …
I shudder. This is bad; really bad. Night time is a good time to attack, at least strategically, but at the same time it's dangerous; the visibility is limited.
I can't let us stay here.
The pulsations continue, growing erratic until another joins in—and then it smoothes out like a blanket, covering the entire area and, surprisingly enough, helping me control my growing panic.
I need to get out of here, and fast. If they hear me, I'll be the one facing them, completely alone; I'll have no choice. And then they'll get Sheena, who won't even see it coming and—
My heart pounds in my ears and I cup my hand over my mouth, breathing into them as quietly as I can. The conversation has lulled into the background and I try to make myself move only for my legs to refuse.
'I have to get out,' I think, practically deafened by the pulsations in the forest. I can't figure out what it is, even now. 'I can't stay here.'
'I can't move.'
The conversation stops and I stop breathing as well. My weapon suddenly weighs a ton and more than ever I scream at myself to just move but—
A hand grasps around my arm and wretches me from my hiding place and I cry out in pain, stumbling to the ground from the suddenness of it. My sword falls to the ground and I swallow a scream when I'm faced with three strangers. The ones I've been listening in on.
"Looks like we have a little rat," the one who pulled me out says calmly, but there's a cold smile on his face. "What do you know?"
"W—What?" The woman mumbles. "I didn't feel anyone enter; how did she get here unnoticed?"
I blink rapidly, tears pulling at my eyes, and I choke back a whimper when the man's eyes return to me. There's something dark lurking in them. The shadows from the forest make him look even more ominous. "So, what brings you here?"
"I—" my voice sputters out weakly and I struggle for words. "I-I'm—I—"
The first man, the one standing next to the woman, lets out a small laugh. "I think you're scaring her, Roman. Maybe you should give the squirt some space."
Roman releases my arm, getting up from his crouch and towering over my seated form, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller. "Hmm?"
"I'm—I just g-got—got lo—lost," I stammer, panic riddling my brain. "I came for fire—firewood, and then—t-then I felt a-a thing, a blob, I-I don't know, I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop I just—"
My breathing becomes too erratic to continue and I hold back a scream, the noise lodging in the back of my throat. What do I do, what do I do?
"Say, doesn't she look like one of those two Ev described?" Roman asks casually. "Looks like we found one of them."
I blink back tears, a hiccup bubbling from my throat. The woman takes over, a strange look on her face. "What do you meant by you felt a blob?"
I make the motion with my hands, ignoring how I'm shaking. My legs are weak. I struggle to find my voice and she's patient enough to wait as I gasp out breaths, overtaken by panic and fear. "I-It was la-large. H-Heavy, it just came o-out of nowhe—nowhere."
"I didn't feel her come in," the woman says to the two men. "I still can't feel her."
The first man raises his eyebrows. "How interesting … either she's hiding her Mana Signature with something, or you cast the spell wrong."
She bristles. "I did not—who do you think I am!?"
Roman cuts off the argument easily, instead turning to look at me. "Get up."
I scramble to my feet, sword all but forgotten. "You and your friend killed a few of mine," he says simply. "And crippled the remaining. You see … we're not all too happy about this. Friends stick together, right?" He smiles, but it's a dangerous thing. "You should understand … we can't let this go."
I hiccup again, squeezing my eyes shut and ignoring the tears that drip down my face from the action. "I-I'm so so-sorry," I gasp, "I didn't want—I didn't—I-I'm sorry."
I can't make excuses; we did kill them. We killed people. Or at least, Sheena and Corrine did, apparently. And I crippled the woman; Ev. Her name is Ev.
I could've killed her.
A hand settles on my head and I stiffen, my breathing all but stopping at the motion. When it makes no motion to hurt me I let a shaky gasp escape, instead keeping my eyes shut as tight as I can.
"But … an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind," he says softly, as if he's talking to a child. "So we're not going to kill you. Or your friend."
There's an if, somewhere in there. They're not going to kill us—whether that's a decision he just made, or if that was the original plan, I don't know. But we're not getting out of this unscathed.
"It appears our previous plan won't work, so we'll … have to make some adjustments." Roman turns to the woman. "Chelsea, remove the barrier."
Chelsea grumbles to herself, simply turning away. And then, out of nowhere, the pressure and haze that's been lingering is gone, leaving the forest as clear as it was when I came for wood. I gasp, having not realized just how hard it was to breathe with that in the air.
A barrier—I guess to keep people out, but … I didn't even realize I entered it. There has to be another reason for it.
"A-A barrier?" I whisper. "Is th-that the feel—feeling?"
Roman hums. "Feeling … you said a blob? Perhaps. Chelsea—this girl … is she an elf?"
Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest, an uncomfortable look coming across her face. "I don't know. I can't read her Mana Signature."
"What?" The first man looks at her oddly. "What do you mean you can't read it?"
"Exactly that—I couldn't feel it. That's probably why the barrier didn't pick up on her." She looks at me evenly and I shrink back, my hands clutching each other tightly. "Now that she's here, I can—but it's ..." she huffs in frustration, struggling to find the right word. "Scrambled. There's something odd about her."
He crosses his arms as well. "Well then why didn't Ev say anything about it?"
"How the hell should I know, Ivan? It's possible she just wasn't paying attention. She's not the most … observant of people," she says the last part quieter, to the point where I can barely hear her. They're all speaking in hushed tones. "Maybe it is a good thing that we have to change plans."
Roman smiles again, his hand finally moving off my head, and my shoulders relax a fraction. "I suppose this is more like a mouse than a rat, isn't it? Say, mouse—do you fear death?"
My heart clenches at that, and I look around the forest desperately, trying to find some way out of this. I don't like it, I don't like it why is this happening why didn't I just leave when I had the chance?
His hand catches my chin and I almost scream when he wretches my chin up, forcing me to look up—and by look up I mean look up because he is tremendously tall. "Answer me, mouse."
"I-I do," I answer weakly, wincing when his fingers grip my chin tighter. "I—I don't wa—want to die."
I don't want to die.
I didn't want to die, either. We didn't have a choice.
I'm shaking so hard I can barely stand and when Roman releases my chin I all but fold in on myself, my arms wrapping tightly around my stomach and head bowing low as I choke back my sobs. I don't want to die, I have to get home, I want to go home. I want my mom, I want my dad, I want my brothers, my bed, my friends—
"Well, we're not going to kill you, mouse." Roman shakes his head. "No … you're useful, it seems. If Chelsea can't sense you, then I wonder … will others be unable to?"
Chelsea says nothing, but I can tell she's annoyed by the way the conversation is going. Roman reaches into the pouch at his hip, removing a single package. I see her eyes widen.
"You are going to Hima," he says, and I nod. "Good. Deliver this."
I take it with shaking hands, barely able to croak out my question of where to bring it to.
"There should be an old man there … just tell him it's from Roman," Roman orders softly, his smile returning. "He'll understand."
"W-What?" My eyes widen. "How a-am I supposed—supposed to—"
Roman shushes me. "You'll know him when you see him. He's got a … shady look to him. Just do as I instruct, mouse."
"And then wh-what?" I stammer, though it's beginning to get more manageable as time passes without anything happening. "I—I hurt you-your friend. I got them k-killed." The word feels dirty in my mouth. "You're just gonna le—let me go like—like this?"
Roman chuckles. "Oh, no. We'll meet again. If you do well, you'll keep your life … and the life of your friend." His eyes twinkle. "Don't you worry about when. We'll find you."
I clutch the package tightly, his instructions burning their way through my brain. Find an old man in Hima, give him the package, say it's from Roman.
It's so … simple.
What the hell am I even delivering?
I don't dare ask.
"Now, go along, little mouse." He pats my head again. "Do not linger, or I might have to … reconsider our actions. It should be obvious that this is our little secret, yes?"
I nod rapidly, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of the forest—out of this area, actually.
But if they have people in Hima … where the hell am I supposed to go? Luin?
There's probably people there, too.
I resist the urge to burst into tears again. I've gotten myself into trouble—a lot of it. And there's no way out.
The only thing that reassures me is that, eventually, I'll be in Tethe'alla; I'll be safe there. Or … as safe as I can be with what's going to happen.
But we'll return eventually, and Roman … and his friends will be here waiting.
"Now, what do we say?" Roman asks, and I blink rapidly. "Come on, little mouse, I'm waiting."
I stumble for a response, before blurting out, "Th-Thank you."
He smiles. "You're welcome. Now go."
I retreat as fast as I can, barely remembering to grab my sword in my haste, and I realize that there's no blobs as I leave.
I make it out of the forest on the verge of a panic attack, and I barely make it to the campsite before the tears are flowing freely, my chest constricting painfully and making me struggle to breathe. I gasp, my breathing choppy, and forget about the package and sword for now—I just crouch into a ball and hide.
'I messed up. I messed up.'
I should've left. I should've left, told Sheena, and then gotten the hell out of here.
I stayed too long.
A low whine escapes my throat, cracking once it meets the air, and I clasp my hand over my mouth, body shaking violently. It feels like I'm going to throw up.
It takes a good amount of time before I get myself under control, and even then my breathing is still erratic. I shakily pick up the package, feeling for what it might be, but I don't dare opening it. I can't take that risk. I place it in my bag and then hide my face in my bag, squeezing my eyes shut tightly.
This watch is more tense than any before. I keep my eyes trained on the forest, just incase Roman and his friends decide to change their mind and kill us now—or do … whatever it was they were planning in the first place. From Roman's words, it didn't sound like they planned to kill us. But … that leaves the question of what they were planning in the first place, as well as that … barrier, thing.
My thoughts are foggy and my legs feel numb. Everything feels surreal—fake. This has to be a dream. A dream inside a dream?
Roman's smile crosses my thoughts again and I collapse on myself in a mess of tears and quivering. I don't dare hide my face this time, and I keep my eyes firmly locked on the forest despite the tears that blur my vision.
It takes hours for dawn to come, and although physically I have recovered, my mental state is not as lucky. Sheena wakes up slowly and that's my cue to pull myself together entirely. I blink a few times, staring down at my closed bag. The package.
I can't let her know.
"Good morning," she offers, yawning. I simply nod in response. "The watch went fine?"
The events of the night flash through my thoughts. My throat burns and my eyes threaten to tear up again and I—
I push it all away and smile.
"Yup. It was just cold and boring."
Sheena nods. "That's how they tend to be …"
We eat breakfast, train, and then pack our things up and go on our way, but I keep myself a few paces behind Sheena, constantly glancing over my shoulder. I don't want to see them; even as we distance ourself from the campsite, I continue looking, because although I know that they won't be there, I can't risk it.
I'm scared.
Monster fights are hard but I distract myself with the thought of Hima. Hima, Hima, Hima—I have to deliver a package. I don't know what it is.
I could be getting myself into some drug cartel, for all I know.
… Then again, that's unlikely. But …
It doesn't matter.
I can't mess this up, or else I'll put Sheena's —and my own— life in danger.
A day later we reach Hima. It's a small town, with only an inn and a few houses. Stray dogs are chasing children up and down the rocky paths of the town and I silently hope that none of them have rabies. Or whatever Sylvarant-equivalent there is for rabies.
Night is approaching fast and we check into the inn, a chipper girl greeting us at the counter. I wander up to the second floor as Sheena deals with her; I'm too tired and stressed to negotiate with anyone right now.
I watch them talk from above, leaning over the railing and resting my cheek in my hand. More than anything, I just want to take a long bath and sleep. But … that's not an option.
Roman's job.
I can't mess up.
"Since when do you talk to strangers?" I ask quietly as the ninja unlocks one of the middle rooms. I go in after her and shut the door.
Sheena drops her bag beside one of the beds. "Well, unlike you, I don't ignore people who are trying to talk to me."
I blow out a breath. "Rude."
As I take a seat on the other bed, I open my bag up. The package sits on my folded clothes, looking exactly the same as it did yesterday. My hands clutch the fabric of my bag tightly, and I force myself to look away. "I wonder if their food will be better than T-Triet's," I muse, as Sheena continued to remove her things from her bag.
"Maybe," she replies with a shrug. "We're not in the middle of a desert anymore, but we are on a mountain."
I nod. "True."
I head out of the room a bit later with the excuse of going to buy another pair of pants to sleep in. Sheena accepts the excuse without any protest and I breathe out a sigh of relief when she doesn't even question me bringing my bag with me.
Old man, old man …
I look around the inn and see simply a small stall. I peek in for a moment and see an aging man sitting on the ground, leaned up against a safe. He gives me a wary look.
Could it be him?
… No. I can't just assume that it's the first older person I see. There have to be more.
I leave the stall quickly and head up the mountain. I ignore the houses, because it'd be rude to just go knocking on doors and asking if an old man lives there—but when I reach the top of the mountain and find no one matching the description, my stomach drops.
I wish Roman had given more information. Shady and old.
I return to the stall.
The old man looks at me warily again, and I fidget nervously. "I …" my voice is hoarse, and suddenly my mouth is dry. "D-Do you … sell casuals?"
He stares at me, and I specify, "S-Sweatpants, long sleeves—"
The man says nothing, instead turning and pulling out a single pair of sweats … or at least, something similar to them. From what I can tell, though, they're huge. They'll swamp me.
"A-Anything small-smaller?" I ask, my voice growing weaker as time passes. I can feel his eyes on me. I'm scared. I'm scared.
"No." His voice is crackly and haggard and I wince at the sound of it. "Will you buy them or not?"
I remove my money pouch wordlessly. They're two thousand gald exactly. I'm not sure whether that's a good or bad price.
I take them wordlessly, folding them and placing them in my bag, and then I hesitate. The package sits there, and I stare at it, my hands sweating with nerves.
What if this isn't him? What if he yells? What if he doesn't know what I'm talking about?
… But it's my only choice. Roman said he'd know if I succeeded—he'll know if I fail. He knows where I am.
I don't know how, but he'll know.
I take it out wordlessly, placing it down on the table, and the man's posture stiffens. "I … I-I have …" my voice is weak, and I struggle to get the words out. "I-I have a—a delivery for y-you."
He looks at me for a long time, his beady eyes practically burning holes through me, and when he doesn't make any move to take it I specify, "It's … from Roman."
He snatches it off the table and snarls at me. I step back quickly, grasping the straps of my bag tightly. "You're working him?" He hisses.
"I—I-I—no," I reply weakly. "I-I got … I got in troub-trouble." The words are weak and my hands are shaking badly. "He asked me t-to do this. A-As … as repay—repayment."
He clicks his tongue. "You … you poor, unfortunate fool." He doesn't open the package. I'm assuming he's waiting for me to leave before he does. "You have no idea what you got yourself into."
My heartrate skyrocks. "H-How do I get out?" I ask quickly, my voice desperate. "I do-don't want to—I'm scared," I whisper, looking around frantically. There's no one here but us. It's dark out. The sun has set. "He'll kill me. He's gonna—"
"I know what he's gonna do!" He snaps, and I immediately shut up. "There's no out. You'll be tied into this for life, missy."
I feel tears bubble up in my throat. The memory of his smile, the cold look in his face, the impassive tone in his voice—it scares me.
Roman scares me, and I've only known him for a total of maybe five minutes at most.
I don't want this. I don't want this.
"Get outta' here," he finally orders, not looking at me. "Get the hell out and don't come back."
He doesn't have to say it twice. I retreat back to the inn with tears burning my eyes, and the girl from before offers a smile only for it to fall when she sees my face. "Are you alright?"
I swallow thickly, pressing my hands into my eyes to stem the tears. Now isn't the time, now isn't the time. Sheena will be suspicious, and I'm not allowed to tell her. They'll find out, somehow. I know it.
They'll find out.
They have eyes everywhere.
I cannot cry. I cannot show fear. I have to be strong, I have to deal with this on my own.
"Nothing." My voice is surprisingly steady as I speak. "I'm … it's just fr-from the cold," I reply, offering a weak smile as I pass.
She frowns. "Are you sure?"
I pause at the stairs. Breathe. In, out. In, out. On the count of three I'll turn, smile again, and thank her for the concern. Then, I will go upstairs like nothing happened.
One. I clutch the straps of my bag tightly between my shaking hands.
Two. I take a deep breath to even out my voice.
Three.
I turn, and offer a more sincere—or at least, sincere looking I hope—smile to her. "Yeah, I'm sure. Th-Thank you, though. F-For the concern."
Turn. I make my way up the stairs but pause when the girl calls out to me.
"Sophia—" I don't turn, "my name; it's Sophia. If you need, just come get me, OK? Even if I can't do anything …"
The name sounds familiar, but I ignore it. There are a lot of Sophia's in the world. A friend back home is named Sophia. That's all it is. That's all it has to be.
I just wave to her before entering the room.
Sheena is in the same position as when I left, and she look up, intending to ask something, only for me to drop my bag to the floor and fall face first into the bed before she has the chance. The pillow in my face makes it harder to breathe but I ignore that fact.
Calm down. I have to calm down.
"Did something happen?" She asks, and I can hear the frown in her voice. A shudder runs down my spine. "You seem a bit off."
I sit up shakily, making sure to keep my back to her. "I'm fine," I repeat, looking down at my hands. "Just … tired. I-It's cold outside," I tell her. "Y'know … cold air, dry eyes …"
Sheena hums, but says nothing. I reach into the bag and remove the sweatpants I bought, staring at them blankly for a few seconds before turning them over in my hands. I stand up, holding them to my waist. They go way past my feet.
"Those look way too big for you," Sheena points out. I give her a look.
"I know …" I mess with the adjustable band before admitting, "He didn't have a sm-smaller size."
Sheena raises an eyebrow. "Really? That's … a bit odd."
I shrug. "I … I don't care. It's something, at least." I sigh, throwing them onto the bed. "I'll just have to grow into them … or something."
Neither of us brings up the fact that these are likely for a teenage boy. Or a young adult male.
I'll never be this tall.
Sheena watches me for a moment before she gets up, and I watch as she ambles over to her bag. I can't see what she removes. "I'm going out," she says. I hook my arms behind my head.
"Where to?"
"Food shopping." I blink. Oh. That's right, we're getting low on stuff. But still … at this time of night?
I reply, "It's late, though. The sun is mostly set."
"Yes, but … it's better if I do it now."
I frown. "I guess …"
The door to our room shuts soon after. I stare up at the ceiling for a few minutes before finally getting up and stripping out of my clothes. I quickly pull on my sweatshirt before attempting to get the sweatpants on.
Falling back onto the bed, I sit on the edge and unfold the pants. I slip one foot in first, and even though I push my leg all the way through my toes just barely graze the outside of the cuff.
I blow out a frustrated breath. I push the other leg through and stand up. They slip down my waist and nearly hit the ground. I catch the waistband before they can and yank on the strap. I pull it as far as it'll let me, allowing them to balance on my hip bones. My feet are covered by the fabric and I sit back down on the bed, rolling them up to my ankles.
Now that I'm not in danger of tripping over the fabric I wander around the room, crouching in front of the fireplace. It is still lit, and I warm my hands in front of it.
It is almost soothing.
My eyes feel tired as I stare into the flames. They curl up in the chimney, swallowing each other and emerging larger and stronger than before. It is captivating to watch and I ignore the pain that the smoke causes my eyes as I watch the flames dance around in their cage.
I don't remember dozing off, but I'm woken up by Sheena nudging my back softly. I blink tiredly and sit up, pressing my palms to my eyes. The flames have died down a bit. I wonder how long I slept for.
"If you're tired, then you should sleep," Sheena says. "Probably on the bed rather than the floor, though." I nod, and get up. The cuffs of the pants have come undone, but rather than taking the time to roll them back up I simply hike the sweatpants up further until my feet are clear.
Yet, by the time I'm laying down I'm wide awake, all bits of drowsiness gone from my body. Sheena is still awake, so I turn on my side and watch her work.
Silence falls around us. I stare up at the ceiling, thinking of earlier on this week.
Ignoring the recent events with Roman, I can't help but feel … uneasy. Ever since I woke up in Tethe'alla, there's been a nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something. Everytime I wake up, it feels like I'm missing something; like something should be there, but it isn't.
It's as if I'm missing a chunk of time.
I know I am, realistically. Between the last day on Earth and my first day in Tethe'alla, something has to have happened. I wouldn't have an Exsphere if it hadn't.
But when I think about what that missing chunk could be, I feel sick. My head begins to pound and a wave of nerves hits me, making it hard to concentrate. While I hate not knowing, I also hate the feeling I get when I try to remember what it could be.
It puts me at … a standstill, really.
"Sheena," I start, again. I wait a few seconds before continuing, "H-Have you ever ... ah, like ... " I link my fingers between each other, "you ever just ... just feel like you've forgotten something super important? O-Or that something is just ... missing?"
Sheena is quiet for a few seconds. "Sometimes, I guess," she answers, "but not very often. Why?"
I lay my hands over my face and breathe out tiredly. "Well ... " God, I can't believe I'm actually telling her this, "ever since ... awhile ago, I've just had that sort of feeling." I gaze up at the ceiling. "Like ... one day, I just woke up a-and it felt like I had had continued living, but had no memory of it." I blink as tears suddenly form in my eyes, and my voice cracks. "I could remember falling asleep, but ... but i-it, it f-felt — feels like between the time I fell asleep a-and the time I woke up that something ha-had happened ... a-and I forgot about it." I swallow back a lump in my throat, rubbing at my eyes.
"Do you get what I mean?"
" ... Kind of," Sheena finally says, after another short pause. Her eyebrows furrow. "How long is 'awhile ago'?"
I blink.
" ... Awhile ago?"
She sighs heavily. There isn't much else to be said, so the conversation drops soon after. Although I'm still upset, Sheena is kind enough to respect my privacy and space and not push me to talk about it; I'm grateful. She continues to go through the documents from Yuan and the maps we've collected. It is boring to watch, and so after maybe twenty five minutes of laying on my side and observing quietly I finally push the covers back and crawl underneath.
I curl into a ball and adjust the pillow so that it is twisted — half is under my head, and the other half is clutched between my arms.
"G'night," I mutter. Sheena parrots it back to me.
It doesn't take long to fall asleep, thankfully. Before my mind can droop into places I don't want it to I've been whisked away into a comforting blanket of unconsciousness.
Halfway through the fourth day, Sheena and I reach Luin. We left Hima the morning after arriving, around nine in the morning probably.
Luin is larger and busier than Hima. There are children running around each other, stray — owned? — dogs barking at them playfully when the children stumble past them, and adults wandering the town. It is peaceful.
For now, at least. As we are checking into the inn, my mind begins to wander. How long until Luin is attacked? A week? A month?
A month is probably more likely. We haven't seen Lloyd's group since the Ossa Trail, and while my memory of the game isn't the best I know that we are supposed to fight them one more time before Luin is attacked.
Where, though? The only two remaining seals, excluding the final seal and Palmacosta seal, are ... the Tower of Mana, and the Balcruf Mausoleum. We can only meet them at one of those, so which one will it be?
I shake my head. There is no use wondering — I can't remember anyways.
Seeing as there is still a good amount of daylight left, we simply stop by the room to drop off unnecessary items like our bags — and, in my case, weapon — before heading back out.
Sheena heads in a different direction than I do. While I head further into the part of town we're already at, towards the town square and weapon shop, she crosses the bridge and heads into the southern part, where, if I remember right, the general shop, church, and Mayor's home reside.
The weapon — and armor shop — are the closest to the Inn, so I step into the building first. I don't need a new weapon, or new armor, but rather …
I'm looking for something else. A compass or something similar, in case I get lost. They always point north, so with a map I would at least be able to find my way back to civilization … unless the poles don't work the same way here as on Earth. In that case, I'm all around screwed.
I groan quietly, so as to not catch anyone's attention. I'm just going to hope that isn't how it works.
There are no lines at the moment, so I simply step up to the counter. The man behind it turns his attention to me, and I open my mouth to speak.
"D-Do you have —"
I'm cut off before I can finish. A larger man steps right next to me and I stiffen. I fight the urge to step away — personal space is very important — and instead turn to look at him with a strained smile on my lips.
"Um, excuse me, I was here fi-first ... "
"Oh, I know," he shrugs off my annoyance. He towers over me, having at least twenty centimeters of height on me. I grit my teeth together. "I just think it is a bit ... odd, for a young girl like yourself to be in a place like this." He motions around and it is obvious that he's talking about a weapon shop.
Something about him is familiar, but I can't pinpoint what.
I cross my arms, attempting to appear unbothered, but my nails grip the bare skin of my forearms tightly. I ignore the pain. "Wh-Who says I'm a girl?"
His eyebrows shoot up, and before I can step away a large hand has grabbed a lock of my hair. I jerk back, and hiss when his grip doesn't loosen and my hair gets jerked on. "Boys don't have hair like this, girl."
I swat at his hand with my left hand. My hand is grabbed in his other one, and suddenly my blood is rushing faster. My mind is screaming at me — predator, predator you fucking idiot — but I can barely hear it over my racing heart. This is bad. I have one free hand, yes, but I'm sure that he could grab that faster than I could hit him.
He lets go before I can pick out places to aim and I give him a wary look. In response he flashes me a weird smile before turning and leaving.
The man I was talking to earlier gives me an almost sympathetic look. "Don't worry about him," he tells me, with a wave of his hand, "that's Louis. He likes to mess with people."
"I can tell ... " I grumble. After a second to regain my composure, I start again.
"So, do you have c-compasses here?"
An hour and a half later I'm making my way back to the inn, a small compass tucked into my pocket. I wasted a good amount of time just hanging around the shop to make sure I wouldn't bump into Louis again.
I'm humming to myself; a Set It Off song, though I can't remember the exact name, when a familiar figure steps in front of my path.
I cease my humming immediately and glare, ignoring the way the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. It's the man from the store; Louis. He's wearing the same weird smile he had when he left.
"Wh-What do you want?" I ask, trying to ignore the way my shoulders are tensed up and my hands are sweating. "I—I have places t-to go, y'know."
Louis raises an eyebrow. "Can't a man just hold a conversation these days?" I say nothing, and although he doesn't take another step closer his smile becomes a bit more dangerous. "I heard from a little birdy that you performed an errand for the boss."
I go still.
He's with Roman?
"I—" my voice fizzles away, and I take a step back, eyes wide in fear. "I-I—I did what he asked—asked me to."
Louis nods. "You did, and you did a good job." He takes a step forward and suddenly I'm frozen in place. My mind is screaming at me to move and my thoughts are frantic, searching for someway out; but the only way out is behind me and I don't want to turn my back on this man. "But there's more to it, you see."
He steps forward quickly and suddenly I'm shoved, my cheek smashing into the stone and my arms twisting behind my back in an iron grip. I hiss in pain, struggling uselessly for a moment before I give up. Louis makes sure to keep enough weight on me so that I'm pinned.
Against my will, I tremble. Tears pull at my eyes—why did I have to mess up like that? Why did I have to go to the forest; why couldn't I have just … left?
"Are you scared?" Louis asks tauntingly. "You're shaking."
I squeeze my eyes shut. Make it stop, make it stop I don't want this. I want to go home.
There's no home anymore, though.
"W-What do you wa—want?" I whisper, a whimper escaping my throat. No one will be coming through this path anytime soon. It's the back route for a reason. I should've taken the main route—it would've been safer. This wouldn't have happened otherwise. "Please—just … j-just let me go, I'm—"
He snaps his free hand over the back of my neck and I stiffen completely, my shaking ceasing. He's just centimeters away from my Exsphere. "Now now, no need to struggle—the boss just wanted me to pass on a message."
I struggle to breathe. My lungs have stopped working.
Sheena, where is Sheena? She'd help me, she'd stop this she'd—
'She'd be dragged into this,' I realize. 'I'd be breaking one of Roman's rules.'
There is no escape.
"He'll be in Asgard for the next few weeks. Meet him there." I breathe out a shuddering breath when Louis releases my neck, and when he finally lets go of my arms I all but dart away from him, practically slamming into the plants there. I stumble, my arms flailing frantically, and Louis watches amused. "If you can't, then let me know."
"I—" I shake my head. "I-I don't know if—if I can do that," I whisper. "I don't con-control where we're going. I-It's random."
A lie; I know where we're going, to an extent. I just don't know how long it'll take.
Louis frowns. "Well that causes a problem, doesn't it? I'll have to let him know."
'How?' I wonder, but I don't voice that thought. I can't. I don't want to know more than I have to about this whole thing … if they ever let me out, then it'll be easier this way.
If I don't know anything important, then I can leave easier. They won't keep me.
… Hopefully.
"Meet me back here tonight—after sunfall." Louis passes me, patting my shoulder hard, and I feel my knees buckle. "Don't be late."
It takes a whole minute before I'm able to move, and I all but collapse against the stone at my side, my breathing labored and shoulders shaking.
I can't do this.
'I'm hyperventilating,' I realize. 'This is bad.'
Breathing exercises. In, out, in, out, in …
Each breath feels heavier than the last and it takes a long time before I'm finally able to breathe regularly. My heart rate has fallen to a more normal rhythm, and I swallow thickly before making my way back to the inn slowly.
It's empty when I unlock the door and after kicking off my shoes I sink into one of the beds, curling forward so my head rests on my knees. The silence is welcomed—I may have calmed myself down to an extent earlier, but I have to get it together before Sheena returns.
I can't let her see me like this. Too many questions that I can't answer.
I remove my gloves and stretch out my fingers, cracking each one at the middle knuckle. After that comes my bottom knuckle, and finally my wrist. I turn my attention to my left hand.
The Exsphere sits in the middle of my hand, shimmering slightly. Around it is what is, most likely, a standard key crest. I observe the ruins carved into it.
Nothing stands out.
I pick at the corner of the crest. Eira told me that I could take it off and put it wherever I want, but … where else would I put it? On the other side of my neck?
Speaking of which …
Although James told me not to mess with the Exsphere, the thought of having two of them on my body is a bit nerve wracking. It definitely can't be good to have two of these things on at once. One is bad enough.
Two human lives.
I shudder at the thought
James said not to take it off. Don't take it off …
I sigh.
'Ah, fuck it.'
I move my hair to my shoulder and feel for the Exsphere, and when my fingers slip under the crest I wince. This one hurts. I pull a bit harder and nearly let out a whine of pain; it hurts. Just trying to edge it off hurts like hell.
But, still …
Before I can muster up the courage to pull it off the door opens, and Sheena steps forward. I immediately shove my hair back over my shoulder to hide it, straightening my posture on the bed. She waves in greeting and I wave back.
I glance at her hand. Her gloves are a lot more … skin tight than mine, but I can't see any bulge from the Exsphere. Plus, when she sleeps, I don't see it on her hand, either.
"Where is your Exsphere?" I ask, out of nowhere. Sheena blinks. "Eira put mine on my hand—" I hold up my hand at that, "—but I've never seen yours there."
Sheena continues to mess with her bag as she answers, "Initially they put it on my hand, but since I could move it anywhere I put it … somewhere else."
I frown. "Where though?"
Her cheeks flush a bit. "Just—don't worry about it!" I jump at the raise in tone. "It doesn't matter."
"Um … OK," I reply, a bit hesitantly. "Sorry …"
Sheena pauses, the colour in her cheeks disappearing quickly. "Don't worry about it."
I watch her silently from then on out. She takes out a few gels and places them on the bed, and after a minute or so gets to her feet, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. "So … I'm going to be gone for about a week."
I jerk at that, memories of my conversation with Louis flowing back to me. "What? Why?"
She shifts in place. "I met this guy —" I blink, "his name is Pietro and ... well, he asked me to accompany him to Hima."
I stiffen. Pietro ... as in, 'escaped from the ranch and went totally crazy' Pietro? The one who tells the group about the Mana Canon after a pointless search for a healing method to cure him of his insanity?
"I ... see." I don't know what to say to that, to be honest. One one side, I'm happy to know at least roughly how far we are into the plot. Plus, that also gives me a week to … experiment with the Exsphere, I guess.
But on the other side, Pietro's presence is, to me, a symbol of everything going to hell. I mean, not too long after his appearance in the game Luin is destroyed, Lloyd learns about his parents from Kvar, and ultimately Colette loses her soul.
And, on top of that, I'm supposed to meet Roman in Asgard in two weeks. There's no way we're going to be there in time.
My stomach tightens with nerves. What will he do if I refuse? It's not like I have a choice in the matter, but—
Sheena must take my silence wrong. "I'm getting payed for it; besides, there isn't much else for us to do right now. We're just waiting, right now."
I shake my head. "I don't care if you escort him," I twist my hands between each other, "just ... b-be careful."
"I will." She's silent for a good amount of time. "Just stay here until I get back, OK?"
I hesitate. "Yeah."
Sheena is silent for a moment, before she says, "Sorry to leave you here like this," she apologizes. "I know you're probably scared, being left alone; but I promise, I'll be back as soon as possible. Alright?"
"Oh—yeah," I reply, somewhat distractedly. "I ... I'll be OK, though. I-I'm ... I'm a big kid, after all."
My tone of voice betrays those words. Being alone in Luin is bad enough, but having Louis, and … whoever the hell Roman works with breathing down my neck … it scares me. It scares me shitless. If I mess up, I'll put the both of us in danger—I don't have any knowledge of what's going to happen.
I don't have any protection.
Not to mention the fear that something will happen to Sheena and I'll be left all alone and—
'No.' I shake that thought away. 'No. It'll be OK.'
"Did ... something happen?" Sheena asks, after a long silence. "You seem ... uneasy. More so than usual."
I frown, unsure if the last part is supposed to be an insult. "I—um ... I-I—" I struggle for an answer, wondering if there's any way to answer her without breaking the promise I made to Roman. Eventually, though, I come up with nothing. "No ... I'm fine. S-Sorry."
Sheena shakes her head. "No need to apologize; I'm sorry for prying."
We don't talk after that. Sheena leaves the room probably twenty minutes later, after informing me that the Innkeeper already knows and that she would leave some gald for me to use if I need, and I lean back against the wall.
By the time nightfall comes I'm practically jumping out of my skin from nerves. It takes all my courage to leave the room, especially without my sword or even the knife as protection. But … that'll make it seem like I've come for a fight, and I can't risk that.
'I'm scared.'
My breath catches as I make my way through the back path, retracing my steps from earlier. Louis will be up ahead. I can't let him see me scared. I have to be strong, I need to put up a facade, I need—
"Well, look who showed up."
I swallow thickly, clenching my hands into fists to keep from bolting. I look at the man, taking note of the significant distance between us. I don't doubt that he could get to me in an instant if he wanted to, though.
Be careful, or you might get a sword shoved down your throat.
"I … I can't go t-to Asgard," I begin weakly, forcing my voice to stay stable. I need to be calm. I can't let my emotions overwhelm me. "My—my friend, she's going t-to be gone for a—a week."
Louis tilts his head. "And then?"
"A-And then …" I struggle to figure out where we're going. Sheena didn't say anything about that. "I … I don't know. I-I think … a mauso-mausoleum?"
He hums. "The Balacruf Mausoleum?" Hesitantly, I nod. The name sounds familiar. It's more likely than the Tower of Mana, at least … they'd have to get the key for that, and no one has shown up in Luin belonging to their group. "That's a six day travel from here, and two days from Asgard. You can make it."
"But—!" I cut off my protest when Louis' eyes focus in on me, and my voice falls to a more manageable level. "I-I can't just a-ask—"hey, let's go to Asgard" when w-we have places to go."
Louis laughs. "Asgard is the closest town to the Mausoleum. I doubt you and your friend will trek all the way back to Luin just to rest."
"B-But … fifteen days," I argue. "What if we're la-late for some reason?"
Louis' smile twists into something terrifying. "Well, you better hope you aren't."
I squeeze my eyes shut.
'I don't want to die.'
"And you said … R-Roman will be in Asgard—A-Asgard for …?"
He looks up at the sky, thinking to himself, before nodding. "Seventeen days from today."
I wince. That's cutting it really close. Only two days grace period. If we … battle the group, there's a good chance we won't go to Asgard.
"I … I really don't know," I whisper, my hands shaking. "I-I'm gonna try, but—but m-my friend, she's—s-she's in charge. Of wh-where we go."
Louis stands up straighter and I stumble back a few steps. He just laughs at my reaction, and I can't help but feel exactly like what Roman called me all those nights ago; a mouse.
A mouse being toyed with by a tom cat.
"Fine, fine. I'll let the boss know that you might not be able to make it. But … that just means he'll have to visit you." The smile is razor sharp and I exhale shakily.
No, I can't risk that. I can't have him coming to the Mausoleum; if he sees that we're trying to … assassinate the Chosen, who knows what will happen. He could turn on me quickly. He could kill me and Sheena.
… Or, really, most likely just me. Sheena is strong enough to survive … she has to be.
Right?
"I'll … try." I want to shut my eyes and hide, but I can't take my eyes off him. "Please … d-don't send him to the Mausoleum. Please."
I'm surprised how steady my voice is. I meet Louis' eyes reluctantly, and his smile doesn't disappear as he nods. "Sure. But, in return, you have to guarantee to me that you'll be in Asgard within the next seventeen days."
I squeeze my hands together.
I have to do it.
"F-Fine," I relent. "I … I'll be there." Somehow, I'll get to Asgard. I'll lie to Sheena if I have to. Granted it doesn't mess up the storyline. But … if we're dead, it doesn't really matter how messed up the storyline is. "Where … wh-where do I meet—meet him?"
Louis nods. "In the back part of the city, there should be a house belonging to a half-elf. Beside it is a brown, two story house. Knock three times and wait."
Brown house next to a half-elf's house. How specific—how the hell will I figure out whose house belongs to the half-elf? I open my mouth to ask, only for him to say, "It's by the cliffside. There's a balcony."
"I—" I frown. "R-Roman's? Or the—?"
"The half-elf's."
I nod wordlessly. I guess that narrows it down a bit … kind of. It's that bomb guy, right? The one who tries to blow up the stone thing?
Yeah … it has to be him.
I unclench my hands, feeling my knuckles creak from how tight I was clutching them. "Is … that all …?"
"I'll let you know if I need you again," is all he says, before he passes me. Again, he pats my shoulder and, again, I feel my knees buckle.
I stand there for a good minute before I move. I'm on autopilot as I reach the inn again, and as soon as I slide the lock into place for the room I let the tears come.
I don't leave the room until mid afternoon the next day.