Disclaimer: I do not own Ragnarok Online.
Saga 7 Part 6
Ivor was hesitant as to how to approach the scared girl below the quilt. She seemed immensely frightened, rolled up like a terrified porcupine. "Ri-anne?"
A timid shiver was the reply.
"It's alright now. The Argos is gone. You're safe now," he assured her. "Won't you come out of the blanket now?"
A second shiver—which probably meant a negative answer to his beckoning.
"You don't have to be afraid of spiders, Ri-anne. You can get rid of them easily."
"I can't," she said meekly from under her comforter. Her voice slightly muffled. "I'm too scared. I can't run from them even if I want to."
"I'm sure you can fight Baphomet right on if you have to. Isn't it scarier to fight Baphomet then since it's way more powerful than a mere Argos?" asked Ivor. He knew long time ago she was afraid of spiders but he did not know it was this bad.
Ri-anne shook her head, making a rustling sound as her head rubbed against the material of the comforter. "Baphomet has two legs. Argos has eight!"
"Err… okay… what about Maya?"
"Maya has six legs. Argos has eight!"
"Are you afraid of spiders because they have eight legs, Ri-anne?" he prodded. If it was possible, he must help her rid off the fear. It would be her fatal flaw if she could not overcome her psychological weakness.
"And they have so many eyes! And… and… they look so frightening!" she began to break down in sobs again.
He panicked at the fact that she was spilling more tears. "Don't cry, Ri-anne. It's okay now. If you dislike spiders so much, I promise not one of them would get near to you, alright?"
She sniffed and her sobs softened. A dark-green eye peeked out of the blanket to look at him. "If he hadn't changed, he would've said the same thing," she said.
Her words caused a thought to cross his mind. She'd never forgotten those times… "Do you mean… your fiancé?"
Ri-anne hid back under her fabric-made sanctuary. "They must have told you."
He bit his tongue. He wasn't supposed to know that as an outsider. "Feng-xen told me," he covered up. He paused for a while, then chanced the question, "Do you despise your fiancé a lot too?"
She inhaled sharply. His asking the question forced her to ponder about it. In the end, she said truthfully, "I don't know."
"Feng-xen said you didn't want to go back to Morocc because of him." Why was he being so suicidal, asking questions, which might provoke her anger or maybe receive answers he rather not?
"I just… I just don't want to live the rest of my life with a man who doesn't love me."
Ivor blinked, surprised at her remark. "What makes you think he doesn't love you?"
"I knew him when we were still children. We used to enjoy playing together but one day, he started to refuse to keep me company and he became mean. He knew I hate spiders, yet, he purposely gave me a fright using a large Argos doll for his own amusement." She shuddered upon the thought. "I don't want someone like that as my soul mate."
He could only blame his younger self for those idiotic acts which hurt her as she spoke. "I'm sorry," he muttered sub-consciously.
Ri-anne peeped out again, frowning a little. "He should apologise, not you."
"Would you accept him if you know he would never treat you badly again?"
She gazed into his eyes. Why was he looking deeply back at her with eyes almost pleading for her answer? "It doesn't concern you." She flipped over.
He couldn't hold back anymore. He didn't care whether it was the right time anymore. "Ri-anne, I'm—"
There was a loud commotion from below which interrupted his confession. Ri-anne sat up on her bed, her sight and hearing senses alarmed. The confession evaporated from Ivor's mind too. He stood up from the side of the bed and went to the door. As he walked out of the door, he discovered Ri-anne hiding behind him.
"Just in case… you know…" she mumbled.
When they arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she stopped him for a moment to check if the Argos was still there. Noticing that her greatest fear was out of the way, all of a sudden, she recovered her confident self. She pushed forward and made way to the drawing room, where the noises were coming from. Ivor shook his head and smiled at her quick change.
In the drawing room, Feng-xen, Varrick, Galicia and Phelysa were standing in a distance from Antares who was on his four. His face was written all over with pain, his finger nails dug into the carpet. They didn't know what was going on with Antares. Phelysa tried to go to him to assist him but Feng-xen pulled her back as he slashed a hand with talon-like fingernails at her.
"Something's wrong with Antares," muttered Feng-xen. Phelysa was startled by Antares' sudden violent gesture but felt strangely safe with the Assassin Cross by her side.
"Does this happen often?" Varrick asked Galicia.
"Never," she said. She was as puzzled as he was. There was something different about Antares. It didn't look like he was suffering from normal pain.
Ri-anne saw her guardian on the floor, practically writhing in agony. "Antares!" she yelped. She turned to her friends and asked what had happened to him but all Galicia could tell her was he was telling them about Louyang when he suddenly burst out in pain.
She approached him but fell back in shock as he gave a deafening scream. A huge black-feathered wing grew from his back. The single wing spread widely, causing several feathers to snow down in the room.
Black feathers…
Ivor went to her side. "You okay?"
She nodded but her eyes were fixed on Antares. "Those feathers… they were the same feathers I showed you in Alberta."
Just as it was a shock that the wing appeared, it dispersed into particles without a warning. Antares passed out from the feat, a big rip at the back of his clothing to remind them that what they saw was real.
-xx-
The woman Lord Knight felt for her sword. The air around her stirred and she smelt a suspicious presence. She was waiting for fellow Lord Knight Elliot Nedan beyond the walls of Capital Prontera. It was quite late into the night, which meant normally, there shouldn't be anyone around.
Her heartbeat increased, its pounding echoed in her ears. The killing aura provoked her adrenaline to pump. Who is it?
She drew her sword as she spun around. The blade clashed against another. Her eyes dilated at the sight of the black blade and at the pair of hellish red eyes. The assaulter grinned wickedly at her realisation of his identity.
"Traumatic Blow!" He had stolen the moment of her disbelief to drive a powerful punch onto her chest. While the Talefing he wielded had caused him to become stronger than he originally was, the skill had tripled his strength as well. The devastating impact immediately broke her ribs, causing her to cough blood. She slumped onto the wall, gripping her chest.
"You…"
"Stinks, doesn't it, to be betrayed?" he goaded, still grinning insanely. "But the smell of death is so intriguing. How does it feel to be dying?"
"Where did you get… that sword?" she said through raspy breaths. She coughed out more blood.
"This sword?" He licked the blade which was dripping with her blood. "You don't need to know."
Elliot was ready to serve her the lethal blow but he swiped the Talefing to his left instead to block an incoming huge shield. He hissed at the one who intervened—a boy in a Paladin's armour with a cool countenance.
The fallen Lord Knight struggled for her last few breaths. Was it because of her light-headedness due to her rapid blood loss which caused her to hallucinate that the boy was fighting on par with possessed Elliot Nedan? She felt her eyelids laden, forcing her into darkness.
She could not determine how long she had drifted off but when she came around, she saw the boy kneeling on a knee beside her. He must have propped her properly against the city wall to feel more comfortable. Alas, it didn't matter for a person who was about to die.
"Where's Elliot…?" she asked. She understood he was not himself, that his act was not meant from himself but because he was controlled by the evilness of that damned sword.
"He ran away," the Paladin said quietly. The woman was dying alone. He felt he should at least pay her a last respect though as a stranger.
"It is the Talefing, Paladin. It is not he." Her heart was gradually slowing down.
"I know."
"Save his soul, please. My last wish…" She coughed hard, tormented.
"I will."
"Your name, Paladin?" Her voice was only whispers now.
"Misael, Le Messager De Dieu."
"I thank you then, Misael."
Her last breath finally left her lips, her heart stopped beating, her eyes closed for the last time. A satisfied smile was to remain on her lips as she slept eternally, knowing her friend still had hope to receive salvation from Evil's grasp.