Old chapter 49.
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The Thirty-Fifth Testament
- The Grave of Mana -
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"Say, Allen…"
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"We're family, right?"
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Family? – Such a foreign and highly inconceivable notion.
He knew that well and they too should have known – ought to have known – and even if they did not, his own silence ought to have made it all clear to them, once and for all.
They were not family; he had no family, and neither did he need one, to replace one he had never had in the first place.
Family?
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"Allen…"
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"I don't give a damn about what the others think about you and your allegiances…"
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"You're weird as Hell, but you'd never…"
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"And even if it's the truth, screw it!"
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"We'll make our own truth; our own rules."
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"So just… don't."
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Familiar brown eyes stared up at him, filled to the brim with tears and despair, before they were once again obscured as a familiar brat buried his face in the crook of his neck.
Hands – so small – clutched his clothes with a rare sort of desperation.
Then again, he supposed that it only made sense, though he wasn't all too sure about just how.
More out of instinct than out of any conscious effort, he brought his hand to rest on the back of Timothy's hair, limply at first and then with more force to it, tucking the brat's head beneath his chin.
The skin on his throat and the side of his neck felt gross; he imagined that it was due to it being dampened by tears – and probably some snot as well, all things considered. Gross.
Was he always this small, this brat?
The answer ought to have been obvious, yet it wasn't. It eluded him, strangely enough, just like the truth of things.
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"We'll make our own truth; our own rules."
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He gritted his teeth.
"Where are the others?" he asked quietly, as he found that he could no longer pick up on even the slightest echo of their presence.
The brat's grip on his clothes tightened noticeably. "They fell," the latter whispered; his voice thick. "All of them. They fell. They-…"
Ah, right…
That's right…
They fell.
Normally, that would have been the end; it should have been too late for all of them, himself included. They getting themselves killed as a result of their own foolishness really ought to have been no fault of his, but…
He smiled bitterly, tightening his grip onto the crying child.
"Thank you…"
The child temporarily stilled before attempting to lift his head to look up at him, but Allen retained his grip, preventing it. After all, he himself – well, technically him along with Timcanpy and the shadow of the Fourteenth – seeing his current visage was enough; there was really no need for anyone else to view it.
His face was wet. However, whether it was due to sweat, blood or tears was beyond him. Perhaps it was a mixture of all of them; little else would have seemed appropriate, considering the occasion.
"Allen…?"
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"Say, Allen…"
Tiredly, he lifted his gaze, acknowledging the spectre where it stood whilst quietly wondering whether or not it was just another hallucination mocking him by appearing before him in such a manner.
"Don't you have any friends?"
Friends?
He gritted his teeth.
"…I'm strong enough, so I don't need friends."
"Still…" The mad clown frowned down at him. "They stayed with you for a long time, didn't they?"
He said nothing, averting his eyes and tucking the now oddly quiet brat's head more firmly beneath his chin.
"Aren't you sad?" The clown persisted as Allen refused to play along; refused to be a part of such a travesty. "Aren't you sad, Allen?"
Again, he gritted his teeth. "I'm so sad that I could die, but I can't cry," he finally hissed. "Maybe my tears have all dried up; they just won't come."
"Then…" the spectre began, and he reluctantly directed his attention towards it, acknowledging it. "Don't let it end."
He continued watching the other as they stepped towards him where he sat, crouching before him and extending a hand towards him.
"Tragedies… will attract the Earl…"
The hand moved to the side of his face, brushing against his cheek.
"So don't be sad, Allen."
It was cold and ever familiar; it was the touch of a dead man.
"Allen…"
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"Allen?"
He looked back down at the brat – who had apparently taken advantage of him loosening his grip – who stared back up at him in return, eyeing him both worriedly and a tad disbelievingly. However, though some degree of fear still remained in the other's eyes, there was still a steely glimpse of stubbornness in there, shining through the conflicted emotions that lay on their surface.
Truth to be told, it was quite admirable, really.
With a soft snicker, Allen ruffled the other's hair, earning himself a surprised shout and some amount of struggling in response. "For a brat, you did well," he said, tucking the other's head back beneath his chin and tightening his hold.
"For an idiot, you didn't do so badly either," the brat muttered, voice somewhat muffled and gradually getting thicker. "All things considered, you…"
"It's alright," Allen responded, actually meaning it.
"How is it alright?" Timothy whispered against his collar, anger and despair once again evident in his voice. "Everyone's…"
No.
"No."
The brat stilled suddenly, drawing in a sudden harsh breath. "What?"
"Not yet."
The brat stared up at him, eyes wide.
"Death is absolute and irreversible, but at the moment, they're lost rather than dead."
"Lost?" There was another sharp intake of breath, and the fingers clutching his shirt gradually slackened. "Does that mean that you can-…?"
Allen made use of the opportunity to remove the other's hands, encompassing them in his own. "I made a deal with the Fourteenth," he said. "So that you'll all be able to escape this place…"
Again, tears welled up inside the other's eyes, temporarily obscuring the frustrated anger contained within them. "In exchange for what?"
He didn't respond, letting go and rising to his feet somewhat unsteadily. Determinedly, he made his way over to the piano, where Timcanpy had up until then been projecting a score before ceasing the act as Allen reached the instrument and reached out to pick it up.
"In exchange for what?!" Timothy suddenly snarled, got back to his feet and once again latched onto him, demanding answers. "What did you-…?"
Foregoing picking up the golem, Allen instead embraced the brat where he stood, laying his hand on the back of the other's head. "Thanks," he said, seemingly catching the other somewhat off guard. And, taking advantage of it, he gathered began gathering up what little still remained of his energy. "Thanks… and goodbye."
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"You know…"
They stood in a graveyard, before a familiar grave marked by a simple cross with crooked and weathered features along with a much faded inscription, with Tyki standing with his arms folded across his chest, eyes alternating between the grave and the other who also stood before it.
"I never really took you for someone really into these kinds of sentimental gestures and all…"
Allen scoffed in response, but crouched down and reached out to touch the grave marker even so, brushing away some fresh snow that had fallen upon it. "I'm not," he said, already withdrawing and straightening back up. "This is an exception."
Tyki continued regarding him in silence before finally averting his eyes. "An exception, huh?"
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"Say, Allen…"
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"We're family, right?"
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Family? – Such a foreign and highly inconceivable notion.
Then again, all in all, perhaps it was not so inconceivable after all, because there were different ways of viewing what was family and what was not. Family was – after all – not always a matter of blood or inheritance.
Perhaps they were indeed family – some type of family – consisting of a bunch of misfits that did not fit in anywhere else, or that held no wish to do so in the first place. Perhaps they were really family, and perhaps he needed it or perhaps he didn't.
In either case, it was all in the past; like the time that he had spent with Mana.
As with all things good and ill, they all came to an end eventually, and once they did, then it was high time to shrug and to move on. After all, little good ever came of staying around longer than necessary – of remaining attached to things already lost – and all in all, it was a preferable solution, seeing that they would all probably end up living just a tiny bit longer than they would have otherwise.
Then again, the latter had yet to be proved, and largely depended on the circumstances.
Once, he had sought to live without any greater number of lasting attachments; surviving but hardly thriving. It hadn't really bothered him; companionship had generally meant very little to him in the face of other concerns, such as finding and retaining things such as sustenance, protection and shelter.
Even so – bound by the basic needs of all humans – he had still technically possessed freedom.
However – lacking a purpose – there had been little use for such a thing, and he had thrown it aside and allowed himself to be swept along with the current.
After all, acting out a part had ultimately given him a purpose – however temporary – to keep on going. However…
"So…" Tyki said as they were making their way away from the graveyard. "How did the two of you meet?"
Allen shot the other a sideways look before once again directing his eyes forward, his senses continuously mapping their surroundings, looking for irregularities. "His dog was killed," he finally offered, his voice deadpan. "I watched him bury it."
He didn't have to look to know that the other was looking at him strangely. "In other words…" Tyki began, seemingly in the process of trying to wrap his mind around it. "You met him while attending his dog's funeral?"
"I liked that dog," Allen offered him simply, accompanying his statement with a mild shrug.
"But not the man himself?" Tyki enquired; a hint of amusement to his voice.
"He was okay," Allen finally admitted after a bit of thought, keeping his eyes ahead. "A bit mad though."
"Mad?" Tyki echoed, with all due likelihood arching an eyebrow.
Mad, yes. Then again, Allen supposed that he himself was hardly in any position to be passing judgement, seeing that he was – with all due likelihood – either just as mad or well on his way already. Then again, he supposed that little else ought to come out of associating with people that weren't all too mentally stable to begin with in general; it ought to be at least slightly contagious, particularly since he himself hadn't been all that well-balanced to begin with. "Mad," Allen assured his companion, retaining his seeming indifference.
Tyki gave rise to a thoughtful hum. "Care to elaborate?"
"Not really."
Apparently, the latter's statement had been less of a request for further information and more of a demand, as Allen was swiftly made aware of as the other grabbed hold of the scarf wound around his neck, preventing him from advancing any further.
Despite disliking the sudden proximity, Allen obliged, pausing in his step. However, he retained his silence, turning his head to stare the other down until the grip on his scarf was finally relinquished and Tyki withdrew his hands, holding them up for him to see in some type of gesture to show that the latter wasn't about to try anything, possibly.
"He was broken," Allen finally said, retaining eye contact. "A child trapped in a grown man's body… looking for his lost brother…"
"Lost brother?" Tyki repeated, tilting his head slightly to the side.
Allen made use of the other's lapse in attention to start walking again. "The Fourteenth."
Judging from the way the other nearly stumbled, his statement had come as something of a surprise, indicating that the other had not been made privy to the aforementioned information. Then again, all in all, Allen somehow doubted that most members of the Noah family had been made privy to it, which had probably been a sensible decision on the Earl's part, seeing that neither Allen nor his predecessor was in their good graces at the moment. Then again, all things considered, Allen somehow doubted that his predecessor had ever been particularly well liked.
"We should head somewhere else," Tyki said as he caught up, surveying the area with a somewhat strange look on his face.
"We should," Allen readily agreed, recognising that the matter was hardly one that ought to be discussed out on the street. After all, even though the aforementioned street was fairly empty and most of the other pedestrians were out of earshot, there was always a chance – a slight risk – that either side had eyes and ears that would just happen to see something that they really shouldn't have seen or hear something that they really shouldn't have heard.
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Hours later, they had found themselves a room at an inn, the latter of which was with all due likelihood operated by the Earl's human servants – corroborators, whatever one decided to call them – seeing to the fact that the folks working there had become so utterly subservient once they had taken a good look at the two of them, no doubt having received some type of descriptions beforehand.
"So…" Tyki began expectantly, taking a seat.
Allen returned the look from where he lay on his side on the bed that he had claimed for himself, pointedly. "No."
Tyki arched an eyebrow in response. "Hoh?"
Allen snorted. "If you wish for me to talk, then I suggest you do the same."
"About what?" Tyki asked, despite knowing well that Allen could only be referring to one thing.
"The Earl; his plans," Allen commented, not even bothering to get up. "You keep reporting to him, so it'd obviously make sense for you to be at least somewhat up to date."
Tyki shifted slightly, though he hardly seemed bothered by Allen's obvious – and quite well-founded – accusation. "What makes you think that the Duke's telling me anything? I'll have you know that neither of us is particularly in his good graces at the moment; not that I ever was for that matter."
Admittedly, the other had a point. However, Allen still knew better than to dismiss the matter merely because of that, seeing that it was highly unlikely that the Earl would keep Tyki – who was minding the man's supposedly precious asset – completely in the dark, and especially so in times like these. "In terms of greater developments, yes." He sat himself up, running a hand through his hair. "You've been acting a bit off for days now."
"Hoh?" Amber-coloured eyes regarded him with interest; keenly. "And this automatically translates to that I'm keeping information from you?"
Allen gave him another pointed look before averting his eyes, offering up no other response. Besides, even if the other didn't respond, then it was all the same. After all, the only difference it made was that Allen would have no reason to feel even remotely obliged to share his own knowledge and thoughts.
"The Second Exorcist Programme."
He directed his attention back towards the other. "Which means?"
He received a mild shrug in return. "Something about artificial apostles and whatnot… some type of secret project in the Order," Tyki commented a bit offhandedly, waving his hand a bit to emphasise whatever point that he was attempting to make. "I don't really know all that much, but the Earl seems to have gained an interest in it as of late."
"Gained an interest?"
At this, Tyki actually gain a look of mild discomfort, scratching the back of his head. "Let's just say that we've received a bit of interesting info as of late… regarding the fate of the Egg."
Allen's eyebrow climbed even higher. "The Egg?" he repeated, recalling that the Egg referred to the akuma plant that had previously been housed in the Ark, but that had somehow been compromised during whole Edo incident.
"Yep," Tyki began, once again looking like he would much rather not discuss this matter if he could avoid it. "As far as we know, Cross Marian was the one responsible. However, the Earl has already concluded that that guy's not responsible for the thing that we're dealing with at the present."
Allen shifted his position slightly, watching the other with a great deal of interest. "How so?"
"Well…" A somewhat amused but fleeting look crossed the other's face. "There's always a possibility… but as far as we know, he's been presumed dead."
Allen found himself blinking at this, stunned for a brief moment. Then, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, the brunt of his attention briefly resting on the door. "I take it that you lot weren't involved then," he finally commented, continuing to stare at the door.
Tyki scoffed. "No shit. If any of us would've done it, then we would've taken credit for it."
"In other words," Allen said, calmly regarding the other out of the corner of his eye. "Someone else managed to do what you lot have been trying to do for ages?"
"In other words… yes," Tyki responded, a tad irritated by it. "I mean, how would you feel about having plotted to kill someone only to have it all go to waste?"
How would he feel? – Frustrated no doubt, Allen supposed. Still, whilst Cross' supposed death certainly had come as quite of a shock to him, it still wasn't what Allen had wanted to know more about. "Still… what does this have to do with the Egg?"
Tyki looked up, regarding him in silence for a few moments and then averted his eyes, still a tad worked up from the looks of it. "Cross appeared at the Black Order HQ mere weeks after all the stuff that took place in Edo, no doubt with fragments of the Egg in his possession," he said, giving Allen a short but admittedly pointed look. "Within a week, he'd gone missing, and according to our source, he left his gun and by far enough blood behind for them to label him as deceased."
"In other words…" Allen began, adding another piece to his mental puzzle. "You mean to say that someone stole the fragments that Cross had in his possession, and that this is somehow related to this Exorcist Project or whatever, yes?"
"Yep," Tyki readily admitted with an exasperated sigh. "Which is why we're looking into the matter."
"Looking into the matter?" Allen repeated somewhat wryly. "Is that a polite way of saying that you're preparing to launch an attack so that you'll be able to find out for sure?"
"Dunno." Tyki regarded him wryly in return, tilting his head slightly to the side. "You tell me."
"In other words…" Allen began anew, adding yet another piece to his mental puzzle. "You've been instructed not to give me any specifics in order to make sure that I won't be able to tip off the Order or something to the like?"
"Well, there's that," Tyki readily admitted, not looking ashamed in the least. "Still, I have shared information. Now it's your turn to tell me about the stuff that has you freaking out and running off for seemingly no good reason."
For seemingly no good reason, huh?
Allen resented that.
Rising to his feet, Allen stepped away from the bed and up to the window, taking a good look at what little went on outside before pulling the curtains shut. "I told you, didn't I?" he finally said, his back still facing the other. "That I wanted to find the truth."
Tyki hummed thoughtfully in response, clearly waiting for him to continue, so he did, and without prompting at that.
"Thirty-something years ago, the Fourteenth died, leaving his memories to someone else before passing on…" He moved his head slightly. "In other words, me."
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the frown forming on the other's face. "That's not…"
"Exactly," he said, not bothering to wait for the other to finish.
"Still," Tyki insisted, tilting his head slightly to the side. "You are aware that there is the matter of reincarnation to consider, yes?"
Allen said nothing, but nodded once, seeing that he had already taken the aforementioned possibility into consideration. "But…"
"But?" Tyki repeated, clearly humouring him.
Allen turned around fully now, but remained at the window. "There was another Allen. One who came before me."
Tyki regarded him with open scepticism. "You do realise how that sounds, don't you?"
Yes. "There was supposedly an agreement between him and the Fourteenth, but he was apparently prevented from fulfilling it by outer interference…"
Tyki kicked up an eyebrow in response. "Outer interference?"
"It messed everything up." Allen averted his eyes. "Memories, everything… and I am what became of those pieces…" he went on to say, eyes flickering back to rest upon the other. "The one who did it is still out there…"
For a while, Tyki merely continued to regard him in silence. Then, the other finally spoke up. "Again, you do realise how that sounds, right?" he began, stretching a bit. "Anyways, I'll take the bait." He paused momentarily, levelling his eyes upon him once more. "If this guy – he, she, it, whichever it is – already got you once, then why let you go only to hunt you down all over again?"
Exactly. "That's what bothers me," Allen responded, once again finding himself resisting a sudden urge to wrap his arms around himself. "Why set up all of this only to…?" He paused momentarily, looking down at his left arm where it still hung in a rudimentary sling. "I'm not even sure that I even had this back then, so…" He lifted his gaze slightly. "With my memories in this kind of state, I can't really be sure about anything, can I?"
He could feel the weight of the other's eyes as they continued to rest upon him.
"So…" Tyki finally began. "Let me see if I get this straight…"
"Thirty-something years ago, the Fourteenth – for whichever reason – tried to kill the Earl and got killed as a result… but not before transferring his memories to someone else, who was supposedly Allen, who was supposedly you, making you…" The other paused but continued to regard him, his expression a strange mixture of puzzlement and thoughtfulness intermingling with remaining scepticism. "Actually, what exactly does that make you anyway?"
With a sigh, Allen shifted his weight from one foot to the other, remaining where he stood otherwise, leaning slightly against the windowsill. "There are three possibilities."
"One." Allen raised one finger. "I really am the reincarnated Fourteenth, suffering from delusions, courtesy of Memory damage."
"Two." He raised another. "I'm somehow the Allen from thirty-something years ago."
"Three." He raised a third one. "Whereas my mind used to belong to the other Allen, my body does not, meaning that someone went through a whole lot of trouble to transfer my soul and whatnot from one body to another, which would explain the age discrepancy, as well as the missing years."
"Ooor, four," Tyki quipped, pointing somewhat lazily at his left arm where it hung. "That Innocence of yours magically de-aged you?"
Point.
"Okay," Tyki went on to say, looking like he was about to get a headache from thinking too hard. "So let's pretend for a sec that you really were around thirty-five years ago, and that you – in one way or the other – came into contact with Innocence, or activated one that you'd been born with… Couldn't that in itself have screwed things up? I mean, there's the Innocence of that former companion of yours, the one which can temporarily reverse time…"
Unable to fold his arms across his chest, Allen settled for sticking his right one into the sling as well. "It's a valid point…"
"But you still think someone interfered?" Tyki commented.
Allen remained where he was, regarding the other seriously. "If not, then the timing is too perfect."
"Timing?"
For a while, he said nothing. "Before I came to the circus," he finally began, grabbing hold of the curtain, moving it aside slightly to peek at the world that lay beyond it. "My memories are either clouded or not there at all."
"When I met Mana, I should've been seven, eight, nine, ten or thereabouts," he finally said, letting go of the curtain. "Besides, what are the odds of the person harbouring the Memories of the Fourteenth randomly encountering said guy's brother?"
Tyki tapped his cheek, looking thoughtful. "Maybe you sought him out, unconsciously?"
"No." Allen left his position at the window. "He turned up at the circus, with a clowning act and a dog named Allen in a tow. I didn't know him, and he sure as Hell didn't know me."
"And?" Tyki asked, prompting him to continue.
"For better or worse, I tagged along." Allen shrugged mildly, taking a seat onto the side of the bed. "But, he wasn't quite right in the head, and at one point, he called me 'Allen'… and so I decided that I might as well be Allen."
"Then," Tyki said, watching him keenly; humouring him. "Before you were Allen, were you…?"
"Red," Allen yielded, running a test of hair in-between his fingers. "Like my hair."
Tyki hummed thoughtfully in response. "So that's where 'Red' came from; I've been wondering about that. Still," he went on, eyeing Allen keenly. "You said that the other you – the one before Red – was also named Allen, didn't you?"
Again, Allen shrugged mildly in response. "I can only guess. And, if I had to guess, then I'd say Allen the Dog was named after Allen the Human. And Mana was already broken, so…"
"So you reasoned that you might as well play along with a grown man's delusions, taking on a name without knowing that it used to belong to you…" Tyki swiftly concluded. "Still, though the timing seems just a tad too convenient, it's still possible that it's a coincidence, so what exactly made you think that there was foul play?"
"That thing with Mana was one thing, the thing with Cross was another," Allen responded, levelling his eyes upon the other once more. "I told you, didn't I, about him telling me to become an exorcist?"
A wry smile spread across the other's face. "You mean, before you stabbed him and claimed self-defence?"
"If I hadn't done that, then I would've been taken," Allen commented a bit offhandedly, not really seeing the humour of it. "And ended up as an exorcist under the influence of Cross Marian…"
"An exorcist, carrying the Memories of the Fourteenth…" Realisation appeared to have dawned upon the other. "You're right," Tyki finally concluded. "The timing is too damn convenient."
For a while, silence reigned. Then, Tyki finally spoke up again. "So…" he began, eyes not leaving him. "You decided to break away from the Earl, hoping that the one behind all of this would turn up, right?"
The "And then what?"-part of the other's statement remained unspoken, but was heavily implied.
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