Author's Notes: Wow, it seems like forever ago that I wrote some of this.
Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.
Chapter 54 - Goad
"So I heard that you and Yuri Lowell are an item finally." Adrien didn't seem congratulatory, but instead like he was here to gloat. And here Flynn had called him to his cottage on official business.
Flynn didn't look up from the letter he was busy writing to Ioder. "So?"
"Then I suppose you know that I've slept with him."
"Yes. I do." He didn't really have the time to be wasting on this, but he was curious as to what direction this question was going.
"It was too hard to resist after you told me all those stories about him when we served together."
The cottage seemed suddenly cramped and Flynn was feeling very warm in spite of the winter cold. An angry heat was rising against his neck. Had it been a chance encounter that brought Yuri and Adrien together in a tryst, Flynn would have not been angry at all, but he knew now that this was not chance. This had been premeditation on Adrien's part.
"Guess it's no fun to find out someone you served with got to enjoy the pleasure your would-be lover's bed before you. He really enjoyed it though." He was purposefully gloating. He wasn't even trying to be subtle. He leaned over the desk slightly, as if trying to exert himself over Flynn and trying to make the Commandant feel small. "He's awfully eager when you get him turned on. All it took was a couple of drinks. And I must say that he's really good with that pretty mouth of his. When you decide that you're done with him, I wouldn't mind those leftovers."
His pen snapped suddenly as his grip tightened angrily, mid sentence. He was not going to give into his anger though. He was going to maintain his calm because fighting would not solve this, no matter how much he wanted to punch Adrien Frings across the room. He wanted to defend Yuri's honor by challenging this punk to a very legal and binding duel, but he did not. He was trying to bait him into a fight, goodness knows why.
Flynn calmly changed out his broken pen for a new one. He pulled a slip of paper easily off his desk and it up to him. "I've been meaning to present you with this."
Adrien snatched the paper easily and carelessly glanced over it. "This... this is-"
"An official demotion signed by Captain Frings and myself regarding you behavior."
"What?!"
"Conduct unbefitting an officer of your rank. Attacking a citizen is a very serious offense. Such behavior will not be tolerated by Captain Frings or by myself."
"You mean to say that you actually believe what the low born slut-"
For the first time since the start of the conversation, he looked up, eyes glowering. "Watch yourself, Corporal. He has no reason to lie to me and I have no reason to doubt him."
He was taken aback by this.
"You are excused, Corporal."
"I-"
"Do I need to fill out an order of insubordination as well? Further write ups could end your military career with a dishonorable discharge."
Adrien turned and left without another word, although the door to his cottage was slammed hard enough that the building shook and a sheet of snow could be heard sliding off the roof.
Flynn's fist could resist action no longer. He drew it back and punched a hole clear through the top of his desk. He felt instantly better, although he wished that it had been Adrien Frings's face and not his desk. He had not heard the door open and by the time he looked up, Aslan Frings was standing there looking perplexed.
"I'm sorry to intrude, Sir..."
"No." Flynn straightened himself up. "It's quite alright."
"I suppose that my brother is to blame for your frustration. I imagine that he did not takes the news of his demotion well." He sighed.
"Not particularly." That was stating it lightly.
"Some of the men and I are about to have sparring practice. I was wondering if you would do us the honor of observing. Or if you're feeling up to it, perhaps blow off a little steam yourself."
Watching how the training plans he was implementing were working and maybe testing out his troops himself seemed like a great way to get his mind off the current situation. "Of course, Captain. The honor would be mine."
He cleared his desktop quickly and followed the Captain out to a small ring just outside of the barracks. A group of the knights assigned there were gathered around, watching two of them duel with wooden swords. They watched the two knights tussle until one of them finally came out the victor, and helped the other out of the snow and muck. The dueling swords were passed on to another duo and another bout started. They watched for a few long moments, until Flynn decided that he wanted to try his hands at this. The last person that he had dueled had been Yuri. Fighting the monster horde days before, and the recent dispute with Adrien Frings had his energy abounding.
He took one of the swords as it passed by next, and entered the ring, but no one else stepped forward to be a contender. The other sword passed quickly from hand to hand. No one else dared to face him. His intention wasn't to intimidate them, but to give pointers and help them. Maybe the idea of raising even a wooden sword against the Commandant could be construed as an act of treason in the recent wake of the attempt on his life.
Flynn wanted to say something to encourage them, but wasn't sure what would have been the right words to use.
After a long moment, a knight stepped through the crowd. "I'd like to duel the Commandant." Adrien stepped forward and Aslan instantly a passed an hand over his face in frustration.
As much as Flynn wanted to, this seemed ill advised, even if it was a 'harmless' sparring match with wooden swords.
"I don't see anyone else volunteering. What's the problem?"
"If it's alright with the Commandant, then I'll allow it," Aslan said a little reluctantly, looking at Flynn. He wanted to save his brother face because he knew that Flynn was strong. They had sparred together before and the outcome had always been in Flynn's favor.
"What do you say, Commandant?" Adrien's tone was acidic, but it didn't bother Flynn. He knew that the corporal was not of his current rank, or previous one, due to any particular battle prowess.
Flynn tossed him one of the wooden swords, which he caught easily and then each took a fighting stance.
Adrien didn't waste any time. He charged Flynn instantly, sword raised high. His defense was weak. Flynn could see easily the openings in his movements. He was unbalanced and relied too heavily on the right hand side of his body. He easily dodged and while Adrien was recovering and turning to make another move, Flynn aimed for his exposed left side.
He struck the outside of his left thigh and spun to avoid an attempt by Adrien to hit his abdomen. He moved deftly across the field, dodging another strike at his mid section and retorting by hitting Adrien nearly hard enough to mostly disable his left arm. This really wasn't much of a challenge, but he didn't take this fight lightly. Whether or not, anyone else knew it, they both knew that this duel was really about Yuri. Even a fighter who lacked prowess could prove to be a challenge if underestimated.
Adrien was already struggling after only these few hits, where Flynn's breathing had hardly become any heavier. He waited patiently for the corporal to make the next move. He did not disappoint. He charged again, sword low at his right hip. He twisted it slightly as he neared the motionless Commandant, and started to perform an upward strike across his chest, obviously hoping to catch Flynn off guard and disarm him. Flynn saw this coming and kept his own sword low as Adrien came in.
As he moved to strike up against Flynn with all his weight, Flynn moved easily to his right and struck Adrien's open left hand side. The wooden sword cracked hard against his ribs. He recoiled, groping for his side. Flynn wouldn't have been surprised if he had broken a few ribs with that hit. Adrien went down, struggling to stand once more.
He started down his wooden sword, pointed at the man's throat, waiting for a word or motion of surrender.
Adrien made a small movement, then a faster one, and Flynn pulled back to defend himself against the brief barrage of muddy snow. It blinded him momentarily and as his vision cleared, the corporal's sword slashed him up one side of his nose across his cheek, barely missing his eye. The wooden tip was sharp enough to cut him and send a shower of blood into his eyes and down his face. He wanted to reach up and rub his eyes, but he did not. This would not stop him though. He knew Adrien couldn't have pulled back too far that quickly and waited for the barest vibration in the air, the slightest crunch of the snow to find him and strike back.
He heard Adrien shift and gasp ever so slightly to his left, his broken ribs expanding painfully to allow him to breathe. His vision was finally starting to clear, but his other senses were still heightened. He struck left, hitting Adrien once more, knocking his legs out from under him and sending him crashing into the ice and snow and mud.
Flynn quickly wiped his eyes and found Adrien laying face down in the slush, trying to stand, but stumbling. One foot on his back to hold him down stopped that. He dug in his heel slightly to get the point across and pressed the tip of his sword into the soft spot on the back of the corporal's head. This was a warning for him not to move. Had this been a serious battle, this would have been a 'surrender or die' motion.
Adrien groaned, sword slipping from his grasp and he turned limp. Flynn didn't move. If he was capable of one dirty move, he was capable of more.
"Give in."
"I..." He hesitated, wheezing but still proud. "I... yield."
The collected Knights cheered for their fierce Commandant, while two medics retrieved the fallen corporal. Even Aslan could be seen clapping from the sidelines, a soft smile showing his approval over the outcome of the battle.
"Please continue to fight with honor and integrity as befitting the Imperial Knights." Flynn's speech to his men was simple, but served the dual purpose of reinforcing their morale, and maybe calling out Adrien Frings a bit.
"Congratulations, Sir."
"Thank you, Captain." He handed his sparring sword to a knight and began the trek away from the center of the ring.
"Sir, we should really get you some medical attention for that." Aslan matched his pace, extending a handkerchief out of him.
"Thank you for your concern, but it's just a scratch." He wiped some of the blood from as far down as his chin. Perhaps this was a little more serious than he had thought. His fingers brushed against the wound. It was still bleeding and surprisingly deep. He was even starting to feel a little lightheaded. He wasn't sure if that was the adrenaline or the blood leaving his body. "Perhaps I am mistaken."
They trudged to the medic. Adrien was laid up, staring at Flynn as they entered. The cut across his face was treated with an apple gel and a quick series of stitches. All the while, the corporal was glaring at them.
"How are you faring, Adrien?" Aslan asked, checking on his brother. Even though he had been satisfied with the battle's outcome, he was still concerned for his somewhat wayward twin brother.
"Leave me alone."
The medical officer replied for the disgruntled knight, "Captain, it looks as though he's suffered two broken ribs and a mild concussion. It'll be a while before he's able to do much."
"I hope that you heal quickly." Flynn tried to sound sincere. He didn't really mean it, but it felt better than apologizing for inflicting said injuries.
Adrien huffed and looked away.
The medical officer doted on him a little more, making sure the wound was closing and that he wasn't in much pain before Flynn was able to slip away. He hated to admit it, but he felt a little better after his and Adrien's sparring match. It might have been because he taught the corporal a lesson, it might have been the victory- no mater how small, and it might have been that it seemed to drive home the point of leaving Yuri alone.
The cold sea wind cut right through him. Even steel armor was no deterrence for it. It made him feel a little numb in spite of his numerous layers of clothing, but a little numbness was better than the ache of his body. The sea below the cliff where he stood was choppy and dark grey, the depth of it contrasting starkly with the white snow on the beach it lapped against. As much as sea travel made him feel ill, the sea itself was a comfort, even as frightening as it looked now in the cold of winter. The ships anchored a little out in the harbor bobbed in the mild turbulence, but always found their place once more. The sky was flat and grey, threatening more snow to come soon, as if the current foot worth of the white powder on the ground wasn't causing them enough trouble. He kept his eye on the sky for a moment, waiting for a sight of the whale-like Entelexia that would signal Yuri's return.
From his lofty perch, Flynn could see the encampment where the Knights milled about, some training, mimicking the moves he had used only an hour before, some of them patrolling. A little further out, through a small grove of trees, was the burnt out colony, where he could see the black and gold uniformed Frings Brigade still excavating, still investigating for the tiniest hint on the next movements of Alexei's Word. If he looked out over the sea once more, he could see the cliffs of Tolbyccia, hazy grey and green in the distance. Past those cliffs lay Dahngrest and Keiv Mov, from which he hoped Yuri would return soon, having read his letter and in less of a dismal mood that Flynn was completely guilty of putting him in. He had said that he needed time and space, but Flynn really only wanted to talk this through and hold him and apologize again. He wasn't sure that his letter would make everything right, but hopefully it did more good than harm.
When he spoke, words became choked up inside of him and he usually ended up saying the wrong thing when it came to Yuri. When he wrote though, those same lost words flowed so freely. If he could only be so eloquent with his own tongue. Instead, he was always left stumbling for just the right thing to say and still getting it wrong.
He sighed, wondering if Yuri would even read the letter. He read the others Flynn had written and never sent, but never actually commented on them.
Reading just wasn't a pleasure that Yuri enjoyed. He knew how to read, but it didn't hold the same interest for him as it held for others. Flynn remembered fondly teaching Yuri how to read and write when they were just children. They had an old wooden primer and whatever scraps of paper Granny could manage to scrounge up. Flynn had known how to read since he was very small, but Yuri didn't have a real education. He didn't care for it at first, since even at that age, Yuri knew that many of the jobs afforded to those of the Lower Quarter didn't require that skill. Flynn's father convinced him otherwise. In order to become a Knight, reading and writing were as essential as knowing how to fight. That changed Yuri's mind pretty quickly.
How had he not realized earlier how Yuri felt? For fifteen years, he lived with the knowledge that he felt more than friendship, more than brotherly affection, for Flynn, and for fifteen years, Flynn had been oblivious. Yuri was good at disguising his emotions, even as a child. Yuri did the best a child could to take care of them, filled with a sense of duty after Granny said 'Yuri, you and Flynn take good care of each other' on her death bed, and Yuri's tearful agreement. That was the first and the last time he ever saw Yuri cry. Even at the modest funeral that was held for her with the help of the people of the Lower Quarter, he didn't shed a tear. He merely stared down at the ground, holding Flynn's hand so tightly that he was nearly crushing his fingers. For a long time, Flynn thought it was cold of Yuri to not cry at his grandmother's funeral, but later he realized that the kind of strength it took for a ten year old to hold himself together like that was amazing. He was sure that Yuri never forgot what Granny said that day, just as he had never forgotten Captain Niren's 'Save everyone who can be saved'.
Flynn tried to push back those thoughts. They weren't helping anything right now. He had to trust Yuri and believe that everything would work out for the best, one way or another. He returned to watching the ships, and spotted a small, sail-less craft bobbing along in the waves, racked and tattered by the rough seas. As it grew closer, he could see one knight inside, wearing the uniform of the Frings brigade. It was the ship he had sent to check on the Manor of the Wicked, but it was carrying only one of the two soldiers he had sent.
The boat crashed into the shore with the waves and immediately the Knights came to its aid. Something was amiss. He headed down the cliff to the encampment, where he was met by Aslan Frings.
"Sir, we have a troubling situation."
"The scouts I sent have returned. Or at least one of them."
"Yes, Sir. He arrived mostly uninjured, but in a catatonic state. Whatever might have occurred seems to have put him in shock. We have no evidence of the whereabouts of the other scout without his information.
"Where is he now?"
"The medic is tending to him."
Flynn held back a sigh, a migraine brewing deep in his brain. "I'd like to see him for myself. Even without a voice, he may be able to offer us some clue about the situation."
"Of course. Right this way." Aslan led him back through the camp to the medic's post were he had been less than an hour before for his own stitches.
They entered to find a knight sitting up straight in bed, being examined by medics. His uniform was very nearly shredded and covered in mud, his short, dark brown hair was filled with leaves and twigs. The look on his face was pure fear: mouth agape and trembling, eyes wide, skin ashen. One hand was shakily gripping the front of his uniform over his heart.
"Private, can you give us some indication of what happened? Anything at all you can tell us would be of use." Aslan waited for a reply of any sort, calmly and patiently.
The grip on the front of the soldier's uniform tightened. One of the medics tried to pull his hand away, checking still for wounds, but the knight only began to scream. The first noise he made was horrifying, ripping through their ears. This was a howl of terror that persisted for several moments before he silenced suddenly but his grip remained cemented.
That hit Flynn hard. This was a sign. Whatever it was, something terrible had happened at the Manor of the Wicked.
"Get some rest and recover soon, Private." Even rest would not calm the memory of whatever happened that was surely playing over and over again in the knight's mind. "Captain, let's discuss this elsewhere."
He left the medic's building and Aslan followed him down to the shore, where the small boat had been pulled ashore and its battered husk was being examined.
They stood there in silence for a moment, the cold spray of the sea salty against their faces. The wind was just as harsh here as it had been on the cliff top, snapping their capes around like a pair of banners atop a tower. It was cold and quiet, only the crashing of the grey and white waves on the sea could be heard.
Aslan spoke first, just barely loud enough to be heard between the waves. There was urgency to his normally calm tone. "Sir, what do you make of this?"
"I fear this has something to do with Alexei's Word. Not that long ago, we found the bodies of a dozen of their fold in the basement of the Manor, their throats slit. The few we managed to capture stated it was because they weren't strong enough for 'his heart', speaking of course of Alexei."
"'His heart'? You mean to say the blastia hearts."
Flynn nodded. "We know that there were surgeries done here and that they were planning something in this colony. It is conceivable that they may have taken up residence at the Manor once more. Any survivors from here could have made it there easily by boat in less than a day. We would not suspect them to return to a place that was being guarded by the Imperial Knights and the Union. But with the return of only one scout, no doubt in shock from whatever happened, we have only one course of action. We need to go there ourselves."
"I shall leave a small contingency to guard our findings here at the colony. The rest of the men and myself will be prepared to depart this evening."
He nodded mutely and watched the waves a little while longer as Aslan's footsteps could be heard disappearing behind him.
