Disclaimer: I do not own Ragnarok Online. I also made up most of the characters' names so coincidence of having a name similar to theirs is possible. Well, there is an exception for Liatris as I got her name from Macross. I am also changing the rating of this from K+ to T.

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THE ANGEL OF THE MURDERER

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Chapter Twelve: To Break Them Apart

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"It's a good thing that you're doing well," Margareth remarked after changing his bandage around his arm. "Your wound is healing in a good rate as well."

"Thank you," Scyle murmured mechanically.

"You know, this is nice," Margareth smiled while cleaning the sidetable, "us spending more time together."

"I couldn't wait to get out of this room," Scyle sighed out of boredom.

"Don't say something like that," Margareth remarked sweetly. "Qiara said that we have to make sure that effects of the sleeping arrow are totally out of your system."

"I've been cooped up inside this room for almost a day," Scyle observed. "Don't tell me she used the strong ones."

"The guild master's order," Margareth laughed as she sat on the edge of the bed, right beside him. "Two days would be enough, I suppose."

Scyle remained silent and instead, focused his attention outside the window. Margareth watched the assassin while cleaning up the table. The silence remained for a very long time. Finally, the priestess took the courage to break the quietness.

"We haven't really spent time together recently," she stuttered, "we don't even talk to each other that much."

Scyle looked at her.

"Scyle," Margareth desperately sounded, "I love you."

His eyes narrowed upon hearing her confession and his entire body became still. Each nerve in his body wanted to get out of the room and avoid her at any cost but he knew that he has to face the situation sooner or later.

Teary-eyed, Margareth watched his face for any emotion, expecting that he would confess the same feelings. That he would reciprocate her love. Yet, the only thing she saw is blankness.

"Marga," Scyle said in almost an apologetic whisper, "a child can say a lot of silly things. He has no idea that there is a big difference between reality and ideality. He also didn't know that years can make a big difference – a person change, feelings change, horizons widen. Will you forgive me if I break my promise?"

"Silly you," Margareth broke a tiny laugh of denial. Tears started to fall from her eyes. Her cheeks tainted with wetness. "All we need to do is spend more time together and everything will return to what it was."

"Margareth," Scyle finally uttered. "I'm not the person who can make you happy."

"Yes, you are," Margareth sounded desperate. "All my life, you are the one I pine for, the person I see myself loving forever."

"Margareth," he called once again, trying to extend his patience.

"Is this because of that priestess from Prontera?" She angrily accused.

"She is not the sole reason," Scyle attempted to explain, "because I knew that whether I have met her or not, I know that I cannot make you happy."

She sat on his bed, facing him, and placed her hands on his cheeks. "You are my happiness, Scyle. Please give me a chance."

"No," Scyle replied with resolution in his voice. He tightly held her hands and removed them from his cheeks. "Will you just leave me alone?"

"Fine!" Margareth yanked her hands off his and angrily yelled, "you'll be sorry, Scyle."

Crying and distraught, the white-haired priestess stood and walked out the room, banging the door behind her. Scyle sighed heavily as he placed his hand on his head and closed his eyes.

Confrontation is not his forte and he knew it. However, the conversation between him and Margareth gave him an air of clarity, especially for the priestess's part as she assumed that the young Scyle and the assassin are the same.

He recalled his confrontation with Frieze. He knew that at that time, he was ready to make another kill, if it weren't for the raven-haired priestess. When he saw her face, worried and hopeful, he knew that he had to stop.

Scyle wanted to see her. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to spend more time with her. His inclination towards the woman was beyond repair and he knew that he was deep into his personal oblivion.

Suddenly, he heard a soft knock from the door. The assassin assumed that it was Margareth, ready to apologize about her behavior. He knew that he was not ready and certainly not in the mood to tolerate the woman's behavior so he shouted, "Margareth, I told you to leave me alone."

Instead of Margareth's usual sultry voice, a high-pitched small voice echoed from the other side of the door. "Sorry, I thought that-"

He certainly knew whose voice it was – Liatris. So he immediately replied, not letting her finish her sentence, "Lai, come in."

The door slowly opened and the young priestess slowly peeked in, as if trying to avoid trouble. Instead of her usual let down of her black long hair, she braided it and was slung on her right shoulder. Dark circles were under her eyes, a sign that she had not yet slept well.

"Hi," she greeted nervously as she bowed her head slightly then closed the door.

"What took you so long?" The assassin blurted out as a greeting with an annoyed look on his face.

The priestess felt more nervous and played clumsily with her fingers. She avoided eye contact with the man and instead, awkwardly stood right in front of the door.

"Have a seat," Scyle pointed out the empty seat adjacent to his bed and Liatris gracefully accepted his offer and sat.

"I'm very sorry," she bowed once again after settling herself on the chair. "My reaction two days ago was unacceptable. I shouldn't have done such an immature action."

"Yeah," the assassin looked outside, avoiding her eyes as well and slightly blushing. "You don't just walk away from someone who just confessed his feelings for you."

"I'm very sorry," she apologized once again, blushing as well. The assassin watched the woman's facial expression from his peripheral vision and sighed in defeat. He finally faced her and said, "I'm not forcing you to reciprocate my feelings. Besides, I think you gave me a clear picture of your resolution with your running away from me."

The priestess seemed choking and her eyes widened. She tried opening her lips but was unable to utter a single word.

"A simple no is enough," he added while smiling, "but running away from me? You could have left a little pride in me."

"It wasn't like that," Liatris finally articulated in a soft voice. She felt warmth across her cheeks.

Confused, the assassin then asked, "then, what is it?"

"Things like this, I never thought that they would occur to me," Liatris honestly explained. "I spent all my life inside the convent and surrounded myself with the teachings of the Church. I was surprised with what happened that time. I never thought that I deserve such feelings, especially yours."

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to pat her head and wrap her around his arms. He wanted to be the man to tell her how beautiful, kind, talented, and smart she is. He wanted to tell her how wonderful she is.

"I tried reflecting on what you've said," Liatris softly added, "I even tried cleansing rituals yet it didn't change the fact that I was moved by what happened that day. It didn't change the fact that I feel happiness with you. It didn't change the fact that I feel envy towards Margareth."

"Cleansing rituals?" Scyle laughed, "Am I really that repulsive?"

He then reached for her head and put his hand on. In a warm manner, he said to the priestess, "I'm not telling you to let go of your teachings. Those are part of you."

Surprised, Liatris looked at him and cried hard.

"I was ready to kill Frieze," Scyle confessed, "but when I saw you, I don't know, but I suddenly had an urge to stop."

"Maybe," Scyle added as he looked out of the window and watched the peeking sunlight from the cloudy skies. "you are my light, someone who will guide me out of the darkness."

Liatris took his hand and placed it on her cheek. He could feel the warmth of her hands and cheek and it made him the happiest person at that moment. He caressed her soft cheek and smiled.

"How are you?" He asked, trying to change the topic. He knew that he cannot force the woman to easily reciprocate his feelings. He knew that she needed time.

She dropped his hand and her forehead creased.

"What now?" He asked, wondering. "I asked you in a nice and polite way and that's how you'll answer me? Silence and a frown?

"You have the nerve to ask how I am," she angrily stated as she looked at his injury, "you're the one who's bedridden. I should be the one who's worried. Not you."

"Well, atleast one of us is worried," Scyle teased. "Did you even worry about me?"

"Of course, I did and I still do," she grumpily answered. "that's why I'm visiting you."

"Took you so long," Scyle murmured.

"Frieze needed me," the priestess replied mechanically. "Someone should tend to him."

The middle of Scyle's eyebrows creased as he asked, "how about me?"

"You have Margareth," Liatris replied with bitterness in the tone of her voice. She thoughtfully recalled how fast the other priestess went to Scyle after Qiara shot them.

"You know, I could use a younger priestess," Scyle teased. "Someone who's not so strict. I've been cooped up in this room for too long now."

"Qiara's order," Liatris replied in a strict tone, "even my patient is still cooped up inside his own room."

"He might be looking for you," Scyle reminded her in an empty tone of voice, "I think you should go back to him."

"Don't be such a jerk, Scyle," Liatris felt offended. "Are you trying to push me away?"

"I'm fine so no need for you to worry about me," Scyle smiled.

"I couldn't sleep thinking about what happened to you," Liatris spoke, "and what I did to you. I swear on the graves of my unknown parents that I have never felt anything like that before. I have never felt this weight on my chest, like it will explode any moment. Like I would go mad anytime. But now, seeing that you're fine and we're fine, I think I can finally breathe."

He lightly touched her forehead with his fingers and smiled. It made the priestess stop speaking. Silence dominated the room once again as she looked at his warm smile and he at her angelic face.

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His entire room was quiet. The only sound that he could hear was the wind coming in from his window. He knew that Liatris finally going out of his room meant that she was with Scyle.

He rose from his bed and stood. He took out a packet of grain-like substance from his side drawer and mixed the contents to his water. He drank the water cautiously then put back his clothes and slowly approached the window. As he looked at the scenery outside his window, he noticed the moon from up above when he suddenly heard a muffled sound from his bed. He disregarded the sound and went back to watching the moon.

Upon hearing a soft moan from his bed, he then asked, "now, what do you really want from me?"

A figure rose from his bed and the light from the lamp near his bed showed her porcelain skin peeking under sheets. She sat on his bed and looked at him with her eyes, a deep set of blue like the deepest part of an ocean. She combed her white wavy hair with her fingers and said, "Frieze, we both need something, a sort of a release."

The wizard remained silent and stoic.

"But we both want something else, something much deeper than this," Margareth sighed as she lazily wrapped the sheets around her naked body, "we are now both desperate at this point."

She approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You want her and I want him."

She placed her fingers on his chest and playfully caressed him. "You wanted her so badly that you call her name in your highest point. It's a good thing that I don't really mind. I like it when men go rough."

"Maybe, if we help each other," she whispered to his ear, "we can both get what we want."

"What do you mean?" he hoarsely replied.

"I have a plan," she said as she kissed the tip of his ear.

"What's the plan?" He replied with a bit of a moan.

"I'll explain it to you," she whispered with another moan to his ear. This time, he held her head and kissed her fiercely.

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TO BE CONTINUED

Edited 11/26/2014 – for some elaboration as well as formatting and checking of grammatical errors, rearranging the course of the events, and adding details

Author's Note: You've got to be kidding me! From the chapter's original 900+ words to thrice its original word count? I also find it strange that there is no direct confession from Margareth so I added it. Somehow, I just thought that maybe a pointblank no from Scyle would ignite the embers of fire within her and she'll have more motivation to fight for Scyle and hate Liatris.