TERESA OF THE FAINT SMILE

scene XIV, part III

The weight of each footstep, clad in the layered steel of sabatons, snap apart the dead foliage strewn across the forest path. The small footsteps trailing these are so much lighter that the twigs only creaked in protest as they are trodden. And so its been like this for quite a while. I ignore her but she keeps following me, that red-haired girl I liberated from yoma...

She is smart enough to stay far behind, but she never lets me out of her sight. I still don't understand it. I am a monster, what her kind calls a Claymore. I kill yoma and that's it. Sometimes they get it into their fool head that I am some savior, but they are only mistaken. These silver eyes are cold and have no feeling. These are soulless eyes. One look is usually all it takes to banish any idea that I am anything human. Perhaps warriors do not even possess a soul after taking yoma flesh into their bodies. Somethinghas to make room, perhaps.

Although the girl is a nuisance, she is also my responsibility and I cannot outright shut her out. I can hear the pebbles slip beneath her shoe as she walks the same ridge as I, and the sharp gasp as she pulls back from the edge of the cliff. There is no hesitation to trip my gait and I walk on.

Yet I do get a furtive look at her as I glance back. She just won't give up. No food, no water, yet she still keeps coming. A thin hand props the child against a tree as she catches her breath. This isn't so much endurance as it is sheer willpower.

Still...I pause, my feet pointed at the valley chasm. She must be reaching her limit.

The girl's eyes widen as she sees me step off the precipice. I plummet and the rush flings my long hair back and makes my cape snap fiercely. I land upright and standing, the shock absorbed by my body through my widely-spaced feet. A feat that would splinter the bones of a strong man.

I look up the sheer rock wall, veined with the dead roots of trees that couldn't survive. The girl I am leaving behind stands at the edge where rock and sky meet. I see her long hair being manipulated by the cold breezes as well as the shock etched onto her face.

"Sorry," I say without real apology, "but I can't stay with you forever. This is goodbye."

The child steps off the cliff and I feel the scrape of teeth as my jaw clenches. For a moment she is suspended, borne of the air. But sure enough, even her meager body falls like a sack of bricks. Panic grips me. "Wha-?!"

The look on her face is... determined. I watch her skinny arms reach out for a tree limb, gracelessly landing on it but holding tight. The tree is brittle and her hard landing tears at the roots and cracks apart the trunk. Had that been her plan? With no contingency made for failure, she resumes the fall. With the limb still in her arms she tumbles in the air. A protruding rock catches her in the back and tosses her to another rock. Seeing this, I am afraid she has killed herself. When the girl finally hits the ground, landing on her face, she looks as lifeless as the broken tree limb lying nearby. But I sense her shallow breathing. I am stunned by her actions.

"What is going on?" I question the valley, "Why would she be doing all this to follow me?" I turn away from the little girl lump. "Oh well. She can't follow me if she's unconscious. This is the end of the line, no matter what."

Indeed as I walk away from the impertinent thing, she strains to raise her trembling head. But her eyes follow me not for long, as gravity gives an irresistible pull and she slips unconscious with a soft sound of grass cushioning her face.

The sun ticks higher in the sky and I have made no progress. I stand above the girl, seeing a thorn in my side instead, through narrowed eyes. "Damn you," The curse irritably slips off my tongue. "Will it be my fault if I leave you here to die?" I muse aloud, considering what verdict the Organization might render in the matter. "Those bandits back there saw you with me." Surely if they came across her in these woods again, she would be made to pay for their spoiled fun.

"Hmph. You're really becoming a pain."

…

The icy chill of the river whips her creamy skin like barbs as her body breaks through its sparkling surface. The water churns around the girl as she comes bobbing like a cork, face still submerged, arms and legs dangling in the deep. Her hair, dark as cinnamon when wet, snakes over the roiling waves until she violently yanks her head up with a garbled gasping.

"You awake now kid?" I rest an arm over a raised knee. My bare feet enjoy the brush of the air on the soles. I sit by the waterline, some fifteen feet from where I tossed the kid in.

My voice startles her. What, did she think she dropped in from the sky?

"The water's drinkable." I instruct her. "You didn't just pass out from the fall. You're dehydrated."

She looked down at the water rocking around her hips, spreading her fingers among the frollicking scraps of sunlight, slowly understanding what I'd said. Her face dives back into the river. I can hear the sound of her chugging from here! Just when was the last time she had a cup of clean water?

"And you stink, too." I declared over the sound of her slurping. "Didn't anyone in town help you clean up? You reek of yoma blood. Better wash yourself and your clothes thoroughly." The insult didn't have much bite, but it was a matter of recourse that if I were to be saddled with a human then it wasn't going to be a dirty, smelly one.

Peeling the sleeveless tunic off of her body, the wet fabric is plopped into the river and scrubbed together with two small hands. I notice the decimation from her captivity among the yoma played out across her narrow backside. The extent of it lures my gaze from scar to scar; they are constellations mapped by sadists. Of course. The villagers were probably too afraid to clean her because of the yoma. And those bruises must have scared them even more.

Watching the girl dutifully wring out the tunic, flapping the garment with outstretched arms, I have a clear view of the colorful blotching reaching over her ribs. Green, yellow, purple, like layers of paint, each coat of pain only veiling the old.

As a warrior, I also know what it is like to own a body that repulses others. Still yet, those scars she wears on the outside... could be found within too.

"You'd better eat something." I decide she is clean enough to join me. "Your stomach must be empty." I roll a heavy fruit in my hand, setting it upright. I had not eaten one myself for so long, I've forgotten its name.

The girl enthusiastically slogs through the lake shoal, the water bursting in front of her knees. I think emptymay have been an understatement. She boldly takes the fruit from my hand and sits back on her heels so that she can eat with her tunic laid over her lap to dry. The sound of her chomping probably scares the birds away.

What manners. There is much she should be taught. Hmph. It's like having a new pet. Yet, not long have I formed the opinion she suddenly stops eating. I can see her teeth poised over the pale yellow flesh of the sweet fruit.

"Hmm? What is it?"

To my surprise she holds out her hands, offering the fruit to me. I only blink, but her mouth slips closed and firms resolutely. Although her arms twitch with shivers, she doesn't accept my own blank stare.

"Heh heh heh," I chuckle softly as I come to understand it. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

The kid is obviously uncertain. She has seen me walk all day without rest, neither stopping to drink or pick a berry. She is famished and does not know how I could not be. "It's for you." I soften my tone, "Go on, eat." There is a glob of juicy pulp clinging to her lower lip but she does not notice it. Such a silly, stubborn child, showing such concern for the well-being of a half-monster.

"Really... do you think I'm just being nice?" By now, she must know that I do ingratiate myself toward others. As a warrior who humans must depend on, our health and fitness is paramount to that of everyone else.

Convinced, she is delighted to gorge herself. Her zeal for eating is something new to watch. Hm, maybe better than a pet. I lace my fingers and use them to cradle the back of my head, laying down on the ground. The earth has soaked up the sun and its warmth radiates through my clothing. Closing my eyes, I relax with one leg hooked over the other knee, foot dangling in the air.

"I'll take you to the next village," I am in a good mood, so the announcement is a relief; if I must keep her around, then deciding what to do with her would put an end to my anxiety. "If I left you here to starve, they'll say it was my fault." I must keep reminding the girl that this traveling arrangement is being done reluctantly. If she really gets it into her delusional head that I'm her shining prince, she might follow me for the rest of her life.

The look on her face makes me believe it. I don't flinch against the sunlight as I peer over at her. She doesn't seem to be digesting my words as fast as that fruit. "For now, get some sleep," I suggest, a shadow of amusement falling across the words, "You probably haven't slept much lately. Don't worry, I won't run off while you're sleeping."

…

Morning shirks away from the sun as it climbs out of the trees, stretching rosy fingers to sweep back the dusty blue that had settled over the valley during the night.

The girl stands in a lattice of shade and light, looking down at a heap of leaves that had served for her bed. She is alone. Or thought so, until the crackle of brush spun her around as I stepped through the trees that encircles our camp. I moved us just within the fringe of the forest so that the cold winds blowing off the water would not sicken the girl during the night.

"I brought you some breakfast," I say, evidenced by the long-eared hare I held up in my hand, my claymore held in the other. "Still hungry?" I look at the dead animal; seeing fur to be skinned, bones to be picked, meat to be cooked. What a pain. "You humans are a pain." I grumble. "You have to eat twice, even three times a day."

Without any warning I have a small face buried against my stomach and little fingers digging into my brigandine. "H-Hey..." I fumble the words, "What is it...?" Her grip on me strengthens. I look down and see only the crown of her hair, glowing strawberry-blond where flecks of sunlight have landed.

"Hmph. You fool, I told you I wouldn't run off." I offer no kinder condolences for her worry. With my hands occupied, I only stand there and firmly say with only mild annoyance; "I don't lie. I don't have to. So believe what I tell you." Only when you feel you have something to lose does betraying your honor hold any appeal.

The girl accepts this by nodding but cries anyway. Her sniffles cannot be blotted out by my body, which she snugly tucks her face against. Was she that worried I had left? This relieved that I am here now?

I hum a gentle laugh with a smile. But then I realize what I am doing! What am I smiling about?

Hours of quiet walking eventually take us alongside a deep ravine. There are tricky roots to navigate and crumbling spaces of loose rock. I don't slow or miss a step. But behind me, the panting girl loses her balance when the earth caves under the worn sole of her shoe.

Of course I do not let her fall. I am there to catch her by the wrist before the impetuous flood of vertigo finishes sweeping through her. The girl's mouth is opened in a silent cry, perhaps thinking it were possible I might lose my grip. Nonsense. I haul her up with one pull and let her flop. I rise and turn away, thinking nothing of the flabbergasted look on her face.

"Watch your step. The rocks are loose." I step over a root and resume the same pace. The kid is quick to pop to her feet and stay on my trail.

That night I watch her sleep through the licks of flame sprouting free of the campfire. With my legs cross, I rest against the flat of my sword as I had done in the inn at Telo, and countless times before.

She eats her food and then sleeps like a log, I marvel. No wonder. I may have slowed down for her but she's only a child. Still, she kept up. I drift my gaze to the embers at the heart of the fire. She's strange. Why does she try so hard to follow me?

Looking at her sleeping face again, the steady rise and fall of her shoulder, the hands languidly curled among the dirt and leaves as comfortably as if she were in a bed instead of the hard ground, I have to smile. You must have latched on to me because you have no one else.

But if you have no one but me, then you're truly unfortunate.I allow my gaze to drift to the ashing embers at the heart of the fire, though never letting slip my private smile. You picked the wrong person. At least with a regular human you'd have found a better place to sleep.

In the long run... I can't do anything for you.

"Hey, are you ready?" In the morning, I watch her spread dirt over the burnt sticks until the faint grey wisps of smoke are extinguished. "Let's go." I say a little louder. She hears and comes with a bounce in her step. Yes, just like an energetic pet, maybe a pup?

"I still don't know your name. I can't keep calling you 'Hey'."

Pointing this out made her realize it, too. She waves her hands and forces strained noises from her throat. "Huh?" Oh, she's trying to tell me. "Ah. It's okay. Relax." Knowing she can't speak, letting her force herself that way might only hurt her. "You don't look like you can write." I muse, considering her tour with the yoma, who would not have allowed her to do anything but slave-work. And many villages were too consumed with surviving to trouble with writing or even reading; you were born, learned the trade of your parents, and that was it. If you were born into a community of miners, you often died a miner in that same town.

"I'll just pick something for now." I doesn't take me long to choose a name. Call it inspiration. "I've got one."

"Clare." I smile. "How about 'Clare'?" Her green eyes turn into saucers and she starts to gesticulate in earnest, struggling to speak. "What?" I couldn't easily believe my substitute was the real thing, but judging by this reaction... "That's not your real name, is it?"

She nods empathetically.

"Really? Good." I am pleased. "It is the name of a goddess of love who was exquisitely pure. Her twin was Teresa," I reveal, "And that's my name." More than inspiration then. Perhaps fate? Now I am the one entertaining silly notions. "Maybe my parents had her in mind when they named me. It must mean our parents did love us." I am able to say this without laughing afterward, without neatly dipping each word in bitter sarcasm. This time... I am sincere.

Although I was betrayed, I can still remember better times. Times when I was a human girl myself, who lived a normal life. At least for a while.

Yet, I am not sentimental enough to permit this girl to cry for her own losses. My words draw out the tears; the fat drops crest over her dusky lashes and splash down her cheeks. She sniffs, hard, reigning them back, and her grief hardens in her throat like a lump.

"Stop crying," I smile softly, "Your parents' love will live on through your name."

There is no use looking back. We cannot live in the past. Whether we consent to it or fight it, time will move us forward anyway. If this girl can learn that much, and still hold her head up without tears smearing her cheeks, she will live a life tenfold better.

"Now come on... Clare."

I lead. She follows. Neither of us notice the third shadow. But it follows in our steps, devoted and fueled by a need for revenge...

TERESA OF THE FAINT SMILE

scene XIV, part III

end