Sheena's heart jumped in her chest.
She sat upright, glancing around. A breath of relief went out of her. It was that damn grandfather clock again. That was the third time it had woke her up that night. She shoved her bangs out of her eyes and rubbed them open. Pushing herself off the couch, she went to survey the house again.
Going upstairs, she made sure Seles was okay first. While the girl was initially moody with her, she started warming up before she went to bed. They talked about Zelos's antics, for the most part. She had pressed on a long time about how this event went down, but after a while, the girl gave up asking questions. Sheena wasn't sure if it was because the girl didn't think she would get more information or if she was disgusted by the details. Despite the nature of their conversation, the girl was still fast asleep and free of nightmares.
She passed an empty guest room, then sighed. She wished Colette hadn't been in such a hurry to take off. She could have used someone that didn't hate her to talk with her. In a selfish way, she wished that she went with Colette, if only to forget about this disaster for a while. Regal wasn't any company, either. He could hardly keep his supper down, his mind distant and wandering. At least his fever finally fell.
Tiptoeing downstairs, she considered what had to be done tomorrow. Colette would most likely not be back for a while. She would probably be awake for the entire day while Zelos and Lloyd slept off their fatigue. If Regal was feeling better, he'd have half the city scouted out and breakfast served before seven. Heck, maybe even Seles would feel like pitching in.
"Miss Fujibayashi? May I help you?"
The voice startled her. It was Sebastian. She put a hand to her forehead, relieved. "No. Just doing rounds again. What are you up to?"
The butler confessed, "I find it harder to sleep, lately. It's taxing when one's employment rests in the hands of a...shall we say, energetic man like Master Zelos." His smile dropped, and he resumed a somber state. "Has he returned yet?"
"No, not yet." Sheena shook her head. "It's still a couple of hours before sunrise."
Sebastian nodded. "I see." He placed a hand over his mouth and yawned. "Pardon me. I appear to be more fatigued than I thought."
"Don't worry about it. I've got everything under control," The ninja gave him a smile. It was nice to talk to somebody like Sebastian every once in a while. He never really got worked up—he was always in a happy neutral state.
"Alright. Good night, Miss Fujibayashi," The butler bowed just a little, then turned back to return to his own quarters. "Do get some rest yourself. Sir Bud will take care of Master Zelos until they get back."
Sheena rolled her eyes. "Those idiots are harder to kill than cockroaches." She thought she heard the slightest murmur of a chuckle coming from the butler.
As she went to go back to sleep on the couch, Sheena tried brushing a small fear aside. Stupid Sebastian. Of course Lloyd and Zelos would be fine. Why did he have to bring up something like that? She pulled a cushion behind her head and got comfortable. This really was a nice sleeping couch. She knew why Zelos liked to crash on it. Now, if it only didn't smell like him, it would be perfect. Not that it was a bad scent, but she just didn't like to think about his situation while she was sleeping.
Four turned into five. Five turned into six. Six snapped to seven, and then eight.
But nobody would be coming home.
/***/
A jarring screech snapped Colette out of her slumber.
She didn't remember when she had fallen asleep. The last thing she recalled was an endless ocean spreading out in front of her, carrying onward forever. She was planning on landing in Iselia with the hope that she could find the Professor and Genis. It became obvious that she had steered off-course in her slumber. There was no reason Iselia would ever be snowing in the middle of summer.
She had beached the Elemental Cargo in the Flanoir harbor.
"Oh, no!" Colette flushed bright red. She unbuckled herself and exited the vehicle, dreading what she would find. Despite the awful grating noise, it looked like the ship would be okay. There were scratches along the bottom part of the hull from where she had slammed into the cold beach. Thankfully, none of them were all that deep. She had been lucky again. Still, she couldn't believe that she'd fallen asleep. Maybe she shouldn't have been so gung-ho about finding Presea.
She was deep enough into her thoughts to be startled by a new voice, "Oooy! We've got another one!" Colette squeaked in fright and jumped around. Several burly men came up to see what had happened. They seemed unaffected by the cold, all in naval uniforms with thick jackets. She wondered if she should run, but the men weren't being aggressive.
Colette got enough courage up to talk with one of them. "Pardon me, but you said 'Another one.' Another one what?"
A man with a square jaw and a well-groomed beard responded. "You're from Altamira, aren't you?"
"Well, no. I come from a town called Iselia, and—" Colette started to correct the man, but stopped. "Wait, what do you mean Altamira?"
Another man explained the situation to the blonde. "We've been getting ships in from Altamira for the past couple of days. Spooked out of their wits." He rubbed his nose and sniffled. "Strangest damn thing I've ever seen."
A new flare of panic rushed through the Chosen's brain. "Is anyone taking care of them?"
"The doctor's doing the best he can," a young, slim man answered. "The entire town's been working to help these people. Even some of the tourists are helping." He sighed and crossed his arms. "We've tried to send letters to the king, but we've gotten no response. It's such a mess."
"Say, hold on," The first man stopped and studied Colette. "Think I've seen you before."
Colette smiled, bowing towards him. "Oh! I'm sorry. I'm Colette Brunel. I came here with some friends when—"
"Oh, for the love of Martel!" The young man cried out. He grabbed the Chosen's hand and shook it profusely. "It's such an honor! A blessing! A miracle!" Colette blushed again, not sure how to respond.
The second man snorted and shook his head. "Wouldn't you know it? Angels among us."
"I'm not really an angel. I'm...well, never mind," Colette didn't know how to explain her condition to them. She smiled, "I don't know how much I can help. I'm actually supposed to be looking for Presea Combatir. Suppose you don't know her?"
The first man scratched at his chin. "Can't say we've been getting a lot of vacationers this way lately, but you never know who gets tired of the damn heat."
Colette nodded. This wouldn't be a complete waste of time. Maybe nobody would know anything, but at the very least, she could help people out. That was her job, after all. She couldn't stop being the Chosen. It was against her nature. She followed her entourage to the isolated town, skipping along as she went. She'd just have to hope the others would forgive her for losing a little bit of time.
The city was bustling with activity, groups of people huddled together as they made their way. It was easy to tell the Flanoir citizens apart from their visitors—they walked with their backs straight, taking the cold to their chest like a plant absorbing sunlight. Some of the people gave her an offhand glance, knowing who she was but not otherwise shocked to see her presence. Lines snaked around the inn and hospital, masses seeking refuge in the local cathedral. It was a city swollen with grief, many hands seeking help.
It was at dire times like these that Colette wished she had Professor Sage's healing arts.
She worked through the crowds, asking the same questions over and over again. Some gave her little more than a grunt. Others, a curse. A few despondent people would shake their heads, then hold her hands. No one had seen a little girl with pink pigtails. It was too crowded, too busy, too chaotic.
"I'm sorry. I'm too busy keeping an eye on my children."
"I don't want to talk about what happened to me."
"Quit trying to cut in line!"
"I can't find my wife. I need to find her first!"
"She'll show up. Be patient."
Each person had their own burden to suffer through. The inquiries of a ditzy blonde girl were too much for them to handle.
Her head lowered, Colette moved to the next person in line. She tugged on his brown sleeve, then went through her script once more. "Pardon me, sir. I'm looking for—"
"Miss Brunel?" came a rattled voice.
Colette looked up. The face of the old man was familiar, but not intimate. His hair was gray, eyes drooped, moustache neatly combed. His neck was covered by a thick, red cravat. He had a weariness about him, a life filled with regrets. Yet, he still had kindness in his eyes.
"—George?" Colette asked.
The old man cupped her hands. "I am glad to see you, my dear. Are you all right?"
"Fine! Perfectly fine," she chirped back. She patted the old man's hands. "I'm glad you're well. I know Regal will be happy to—"
"Master Bryant is alive?" The news brought energy to the old man's face. "I should not have doubted him for one moment. Thank you, Miss Brunel. I feel as if a weight has been taken off my chest."
"Are you okay?" Colette inquired.
The elderly servant nodded. "Only a few scrapes and bruises. Still, it was quite the escape, for an old man like me. This weather is painful on my joints. I feel as if I may freeze stiff!"
Colette beamed. "Then, you shouldn't be outside!" She tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the inn.
"I certainly could use a warm drink," George replied.
The old man and the young lady weaved through the lines, managing to squeeze through the front door of the inn. The tables were full, walls lined with weary refugees. It felt like a sauna, hot and filled with the scent of sweat. A tiny waitress made her way towards them, taking orders for warm drinks. With all the heat inside the inn, it didn't take long for both of them to unwind.
"What brings you this way?" George queried, wiping coffee from his moustache.
"I was supposed to head to Iselia, but I fell asleep while driving," Colette confessed. "I'm looking for Raine and Genis. Presea, too. Nobody seems to know where she went."
George nodded. "That is unfortunate. Miss Combatir and Master Bryant got into a bit of a tiff a while ago, so we haven't had knowledge of her activities. I don't know if they have exchanged letters in a few weeks."
"What? Why would Presea and Regal fight?" Colette asked. She winced, realizing that was a dumb question. The two had hard history together. Any mention of Presea's sister would either have both of them in tears, or Presea at Regal's throat. It was only at the end of their travels with Lloyd and Colette that the two had managed to patch up their relationship.
The answer George gave was much different than Colette expected. "Miss Combatir is a young lady, not a child. I believe Master Bryant sometimes oversteps his bounds when it comes to advising and guarding her."
"He does worry a lot about her," Colette agreed. "It's hard not to, though. She's a good friend. She's been through a lot, too."
George bobbed his head. "I believe it is easier for her to have solitude. She is just discovering who she is—how she feels. She has been alone for most of her life, too. Opening up, sharing her thoughts and plans…why, it's difficult for any young lady."
"So, I suppose you haven't seen her here?" Colette asked.
The old man lifted his gaze. Dozens of figures were huddled around the front desk, begging for rooms that weren't available. Others were glad merely to have shelter in the lobby from the cold. Many were weak, tired, tucked under robes. Wide, wary eyes watched him, nervous about what he was doing. He closed his eyes, then grimaced and nodded.
"There are so many people here. Locals, tourists, refugees. If Miss Combatir is here, then I have not seen her," George said.
Colette sighed, then tipped her head. "That's too bad. We could really use her help." She paused, then launched into a loud, fast explanation. "That thing that attacked Altamira? It came from Meltokio! Zelos and Sheena have been trying to stop it, but it keeps doing weird things, like eating people and hunting for exspheres. They said that it was looking for Presea, so Lloyd and I decided to help fight it! But we can't find her anywhere, and that's got all of us worried, and it did gross things to Regal, and it's super messy and disgusting and eww, and if that thing found her—"
"M-Miss Brunel," George stammered. "Please, lower your voice. Many of the survivors would be horrified to know such information."
Wincing, Colette shrunk down. "I'm sorry."
George lowered his head. He sighed, then patted Colette on the shoulder. "Where will you go next, if she is not here?"
"Well, guess I'll leave from the harbor and head to Iselia," Colette replied. "We need to get Professor Sage and Genis' help. Then, I'll take them to Meltokio and keep looking for Presea." She giggled, then corrected herself. "Genis will want to come with me, though. He's got such a cute crush on Presea. Total puppy love! I love that it's called puppy love too, because dogs are super cute and fluffy and—"
"It is best you keep to your schedule, then," George cut Colette's rambling short. "If I see Miss Combatir, I will send her your way."
Colette was stunned by George's offer. "You mean, you'll search for her too?"
"If Master Wilder requires assistance, then you should get him all the help you can. Since I have little more I can offer, I may as well do my part to help you out as well," George replied, his smile softened by his moustache.
Colette grabbed the stiff old man in a sharp hug, spilling some of their drinks. "Thank you so much!"
George lowered his head, embarrassed by the blonde's outburst. "Y-you are welcome, Miss Brunel. Now, please. Finish your drink before you leave."
"Right!" Without a second thought, the Chosen threw her drink back. Hot fluid pulsed through her chest, reaching out towards her fingertips. George watched in a stunned stupor as she rushed up to the front counter to return her mug and pay, then burst out the front door. The one with the wary eyes turned away from her, then headed upstairs. He smiled, wondering how one girl's energy could blind her from her own goals.
"Thank you so much, George!" Colette shouted. "I'll tell the others that you're okay!"
George raised a hand, then waved the ditzy Chosen off. "Good luck, Miss Brunel!"
He sank against the wall, weary from the conversational typhoon that had struck him. Others passed by him, frustrated with the crowded atmosphere inside the tiny inn. He took his time to finish his drink, thoughts tangled in his brain. He felt elated—perhaps from the Chosen's residual energy—but disturbed as well. Such matters seemed taxing, insurmountable.
A small shadow flanked him as he prepared to leave. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't move. His companion had a pack over her shoulder, eyes fixed straight ahead, a hood tucked over her head. George didn't dare look at her for long. She was still, quiet, reserved—a ghost that reminded him of sour days.
"I should have gone after that monster," the shadow murmured.
George shook his head. "I couldn't let you. If something would have happened to you, Master Bryant would have—"
"I know," his companion said.
"…I suppose there is no stopping you now," George sighed.
"I need to help my friends," the shadow replied. "Besides…it may stop hunting others if it finds me. I need to engage it on my own terms, at the very least."
"Do be careful then, Miss Combatir," George pleaded. "Please hurry. She'll be leaving the harbor at any moment."
The small girl smiled. "There's nothing to worry about, George. She'll have slipped in the snow three times by now."
/***/
Author's Note:
I noticed that there was a bit of a hole last time around about what had happened to George. With as much time as I spent focusing on Tokunaga and Sebastian, I felt like I was dropping the ball by missing an aide. Fixing that problem made a neat scene in Flanoir, so I ran with it.
I cut out an unnecessary battle scene as well. It seems creepier to leave off the story where I had it last chapter. That's something that went missing during the latter chapters of this story—a sense of dread.