Chapter 8: Separate Ways
"What happened here Nanny?"
"I'm sorry my lady," Nanny continues to clean the soot off of one of the dressers in the chamber. "There was a small fire in the trash bin, and while I was trying to put it out, Prince Puvol ran off."
Rosa sighs knowing full well that the cause of the fire was her own little son. That little rascal, she thinks to herself.
"Well do you know where my other children are?"
"They went to look for Puvol after I told them what had happened." Nanny picks up her broom and starts sweeping the floor.
"Alright, well I'm going to look for my little troublemaker," Rosa says. "If you happen to come across him, make sure to tie him tightly to my bedpost and tell him his angry mother's on her way with a really big stick."
Nanny just smiles as Rosa takes off to look for her sneaky son.
"An escort really isn't necessary Cecil," says Rydia. "Your resources are depleted as is. If Baron is attacked again, you will be sorely pressed."
"I realize that," Cecil observes the three airships preparing for takeoff; two bearing the crest of Baron while the third bears the crest of Eblana. "But I have this feeling that another assault on Baron won't occur. Don't ask me how I know that though."
Many of Baron's soldiers make their way up the ramps of the airships with supplies and weapons. A captain can be heard barking orders to his men as the airship propellers begin to warm up. "Let's go men! Double time!"
"Well, I guess I'm off." Rydia gives Cecil a hug, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck; then turns to board her airship. Her sparkling green dress flows slightly with the wind, as does her silky smooth hair. As she reaches the deck, the boarding ramp retracts and the propellers come into motion. Rydia walks to the edge of the deck and waves to Cecil as her airship begins to lift off the ground. Cecil waves back, a slight smile on his face. In their minds, they know that the road ahead will be precarious. In their hearts, they hope that they'll soon see each other again.
As the three airships make their way toward the southern horizon, Cecil whispers a short prayer for his men, and for his friend.
"Your flagship is ready Cecil," Kain says as he makes his way to his king's side. "Do you think Eblana's been hit too?"
"It's anyone's guess right now my friend," Cecil turns to Kain with his hand held out. "I entrust my kingdom to you."
Kain reaches out and shakes Cecil's hand.
"Are you sure about this Cecil? Maybe I should go to Fabul in your stead."
Cecil places his other hand on Kain's shoulder.
"I need to see the damage for myself and talk to King Folster about the situation." Cecil turns his attention to a large clearing to the east, watching as his soldiers board his flagship to make preparations for takeoff. The enormous sails ripple and sway with the breeze as a flock of birds begin to circle overhead.
Cecil and Kain make their way to the oversized airship, neither of them saying a word. Across the burnt out meadows and charred stone, both of these men's hearts have taken a tumble to the depths of despair and depression. A nation, a world, that they helped to build, is now being torn apart at the seams. The cause of which is deadly and unknown.
Heroes these men once were, in a time when no one wanted to be a hero. In a time when evil ambitions reigned supreme, and the world was gripped in fear and terror, Cecil and Kain helped to stem the tide of the maleficent; holding in their hands the true power of good and all that it is; all that is pure and all that is righteous.
The attack on Baron was a reminder to Cecil, that though peace and prosperity have flourished for over a decade, all good things must come to an end; and an explosive one at that.
As Cecil makes his way up the ramp way leading to the main deck of his flagship, his mind sifts through the faces and places that his eyes have held within them over the years. Now, all of a sudden, a sea of flames and thick smoke surrounds them. Their tear filled eyes speak volumes, their voices cry painfully for help. The clouded expanse of the sky is like a dark void preparing to suck everyone's soul into its black belly. The entire planet is seized within a terrifying wave of blood and carnage, hate and destruction. The horrid image fades away from Cecil's mind, and in his thoughts, he swears upon everything that he is, everything he holds dear, that in the end, the world will live in peace once again.
"I say we tie him to a bedpost and hit him with a big stick," Jero follows his sister's pace as they search for Puvol. "What do you think Syl?"
"I'm thinking that we've searched all his usual hiding places and that we should start looking outside," Sylia walks in the direction of the castle's back entrance. "Puvol was anxious to see what was going on outside, so that's probably where he went."
"Well good luck to us trying to find the brat out there." Jero says sarcastically (the little twerp).
The two Harvey children exit the castle from the back and begin their search through the many small buildings scattered across the large field. Sylia starts at the Medical Facility, where the seriously injured and infirmed are taken for extensive care and treatment. Jero walks towards one of the many weapons depots that carry everything from spears to swords to specialized weapons such as a Manhunter Axe, which can only be used by the strongest of Baron's soldiers due to its enormous weight. After checking one depot, Jero heads to another until all three are searched, then he heads for the Magicians Cottage—a small building for white magicians who seek to obtain higher learning. It's here where the most advanced magic users can learn the most powerful white magic spells.
Baron is blessed to have two of the strongest white magicians in the world today teaching in the cottage, the first being Queen Rosa. The second is a seventy-five year old man by the name of Parius Varimortem. He came from the town of Agart, located on a little island southwest of Mysidia. Parius was very instrumental in protecting the town during the Zeromus War, and then afterwards used his magic abilities to help heal and cure over half of the ailing townspeople. He was given the Medal of Valor by the town's mayor and a plaque to acknowledge his good deeds. A few of those Parius had helped were from Baron, and his story eventually fell to the ears of Rosa who, at the time, was helping to establish her White Magic Academy. Without hesitation, Rosa sent a message to Parius asking him to join her Academy as one of its teachers. Parius didn't need to be asked twice as he quickly packed his things, said goodbye to his family and friends, and left to join the Academy.
Jero takes a quick peek into the Magicians Cottage through one of the open windows. Parius is reading to a few of his students who listen very intently to their professor's words, but no sign of Puvol.
"Not even the little brat would disturb Parius while he was in the middle of a lesson." Jero says to himself. And with that, Jero leaves the grounds of the cottage to continue his search. After rounding a corner of the Food Depository, Jero finds Sylia hunched over behind a stack of wood, looking as if she's spying on someone.
"Sylia?"
Sylia jerks her head towards him and flips her index finger in front of her closed lips, then gestures to Jero to come toward her. Walking softly and silently, Jero makes his way to his sister's side, copying her posture.
"What's up?" Jero asks.
"Shh," whispers Sylia. "Look over there." Sylia points a finger toward a few oak trees about thirty yards from their position. Puvol's little body can be seen between the huge tree trunks, facing in the direction of an old wooden tool shed not more than ten yards away. Puvol's body stays perfectly still.
"What's he looking at the tool shed for?" Jero asks.
"I don't think he's looking at it," Sylia replies. "I think he's looking at something behind it."
Suddenly, a bright blue aura outlines the tool shed as a mystical sound begins to emanate from behind. The oak trees' branches begin to sway, the metal roof of the tool shed starts to rattle and shake.
"I don't like the look of that." Jero's eyes widen.
"Let's go," Sylia leaps to her feet and makes a mad dash towards the tool shed, with Jero behind her in hot pursuit. "Puvol!" yells Sylia, but the increasing sounds of whatever's behind the tool shed, and the sudden arrival of a great wind blocks her voice from being heard.
Puvol begins to move his little legs and sprints towards the blue light behind the shed. Sylia's continuous yells to Puvol are to no avail as he disappears behind the old wooden shed.
"Faster Jero!"
"I'm going as fast as I can." Jero pants.
As the two teens turn the corner, they stop dead in their tracks.
"That's not what I think it is, is it?" Jero asks.
The bright blue lights, swirling hypnotically in a counterclockwise fashion, is slightly blinding to the two Harvey children. Sparkles of white magic dust swish and twist with the rigid winds, dancing and prancing to the tune of a mysterious song created by the blue spinning oval in front of them.
"It's a portal."
"You don't think…?" Jero trails off from his question.
"I think so." Sylia says with a touch of dread in her voice.
"Look," Jero points to the portal as its lights begin to dim and dissipate. The blue swirl begins to speed up and shrink at the same time, looking as if it was sucking itself into nothingness. "It's closing."
"Come on Jero." Sylia starts towards the portal when Jero's hand grasps her arm in protest.
"You've got to be kidding Syl," his eyes speak clearly of fear. "We don't know where we'll end up if we go into that thing. What if we don't make it back."
"You can stay and tell mom and dad Jero," Sylia breaks free from Jero's grip. "But I'm going to get Puvol back." Without any hesitation, she makes a great leap into the portal, her body evaporating among a sea of electric blue lights and white magic dust. Jero, fists clenched and feet plastered to the dirt below, contemplates his choices with a strained look on his face. Dreams of being one of the elite soldiers in his father's army cross his mind, as a faint voice begins to echo in his ears.
(What if we don't come back?)
He hears the voice echo in his ears again. I hear you Sylia, Jero thinks to himself.
"I have the courage." Jero says as he takes a deep breath, bends his knees, and runs into the portal with a loud warrior's cry. His body, entering the portal just before it closes, disappears in a glorious sparkle of blue and white light, leading him to an unknown location and unknown dangers.
Rosa rounds the corner of the Food Depository after speaking with Parius at the Magicians Cottage about the whereabouts of her children. A harsh wind blows in from the north leading Rosa's attention to the blue light being radiated from behind the old tool shed, its metal roof shaking uncontrollably. Rosa sees Sylia run behind the shed towards the light, leaving Jero standing alone. Rosa, now filled with intense worry, streaks towards the tool shed, her white gown rippling rapidly and her golden hair flowing effortlessly with the unwavering gusts of wind. She raises an arm in front of her face as numerous leaves and branches come flailing at her; gusts of dust and small pebbles pinch at her heels.
"Jero!" Rosa yells to her son. Jero stands still, as if frozen in place by whatever he's observing at the moment.
"Jero!" she yells again.
He doesn't hear her. Jero follows in the direction of Sylia, towards the light behind the shed. Rosa puts an extra burst of speed in her step, breaking the heels of her sandals in the process. As she rounds the corner of the tool shed, Rosa's heart skips a few beats as a bright blue portal begins to dissolve into nothingness.
"No!" Rosa screams as she attempts to dive into the portal to follow her children.
Unfortunately, the portal closes well before she can get there, leaving Rosa to collapse upon the dirt ground scraping her knees. A few white specks of magic dust melts around her body like snowflakes on hot concrete.
"My children," Tears begin to fill within Rosa's soft, blue eyes, her golden hair fallen across her pale face. "My children." Those two words reverberate in her mind, in her thoughts. The winds begin to die down as the area returns to its peaceful setting, the metal roof of the tool shed going silent.
"Where…?" Rosa begins to frantically contemplate her situation. Then, with a quick idea in her head, she gets to her feet, never dusting herself off, and heads for the castle. Rosa didn't know where her children were, but she was willing to do whatever it takes to find them. Her pace is lightning quick and her eyes are determined. She bursts through every door, ignores every person, and never says a word until she reaches the front courtyard of Castle Baron where Kain is speaking to a few of his soldiers.
"Kain, where's my husband?" A few tears cascade down Rosa's white cheeks.
"You just missed him. He's left for Fabul," Kain says. "What's wrong Rosa?"
Rosa tells her short story through a shaky voice and a few more tears. Most mothers, if they were in her situation, would be frantic and wild, speaking through hyperventilation and a high-pitched tone to which only bits and pieces of information could be attained; arms flying every which way, eyes wide, mouth in such rapid movement that not even a deaf person could read a single word from their lips. But Rosa had more control of her emotions, her thoughts, and voice; though her voice was just a little bit on the shaky side at the moment.
"What can we do?"
"Are there any more airships available?" Rosa wipes her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. How could I leave them alone for so long? She thinks to herself. (Because something like this has never happened before, like the sneak attack on Baron; they're usually good kids, better than the average wouldn't you say?) Her conscience spoke quite loudly in her head. They are good kids.
"A few of the airships have just passed maintenance and inspection."
"Good. Could you get one ready for me while I pack a few things?"
"Where are you going?" Kain tries to hide his disapproval of her leaving Baron.
"I'm going to Toroia," Rosa makes her way back into the castle with Kain following closely behind her. His blue armor clanking in rapid succession as the sun sparks a magnificent glint of light from shoulder to elbow then vanishes as the shadow of the castle gate subdues it.
Kain's mind races and stalls, trying to grasp the whole situation all at once: Rydia, then Cecil, now Rosa leaving Baron, and leaving him alone. Even the Harvey children were away; taken away most likely, by an unknown person, or force, which just complicates the entire predicament he finds himself in at the moment. A few beads of sweat gather at the center of his temple. It's just because it's so hot outside, he thinks. Besides, my helmet… He stops his thoughts right there. He wasn't wearing his helmet. His short blonde hair, wet with sweat, was more on the darker shade. He hadn't worn a helmet since those days of years past when war had plagued this world. Kain had worn a specially made helmet, a Dragoon Helm, tailored to suit the needs of protection, stealth, and agility—hard enough to protect from most weapons, shaped in an aerodynamic form for his special jump attacks, and light enough so as not to put too much weight on his head. Its dark blue color matched his plate armor perfectly. It also helped to overshadow his eyes to shade them from the sun, and to keep their sight hidden from his enemies.
A Dragoon Helm for a Dragoon; that's what he was, what he prided himself on. A Dragoon is a certain class of knights that specializes in spear wielding, leaping attacks, and dragon slaying. Kain fit the bill for the first two, but the third was a bit of a problem in his younger years.
Before the days of the Great War, Kain had decided to take up the ranks of the Dragoon to be like his father who had passed away several years ago. Kain trained long and hard, doing tedious drills and workouts, not really impressing anyone; not that that was what he was training for, but the word from his friends and some of his other family members was that, 'if you wanted to be a Dragoon, don't you have to kill a dragon first?' Dragons were a dying species at the time, though you wouldn't know it now with what has transpired recently. Kain, in time, had all the physical abilities required to become a Dragoon; an elite status in the distant past, now held by maybe one or two other people who were now too old to even use the bathroom without having an accident. Kain was more adamant, determined to become what his father once was despite the urging of his peers to take up the ranks of the Royal Guard instead, a request that would also be made by the former King of Baron years later.
It took Kain almost a year and a half before he even saw a dragon.
He'd seen one once before when he was very little, from a large distance across the horizon, he couldn't even tell what color it was. That's as close as he got.
He took a trip to a little village called Palidor located beyond the northern mountains. It was a new community built from missionaries who came in from the east. Years later it would be known as the Village of Mist in reference to a creature who would later be the village protector. Kain went there to train with one of his buddies from Baron's military academy, though there wasn't much training done.
'The women here are hot Kain, I'm telling you you've got to be here.' That's what the letter his buddy wrote to him said and he wasn't kidding. When Kain reached the village carrying a traveling bag in one hand and a spear in the other, he could already see the number of nubile young women prancing around, conversing with each other, doing their shopping—I like this place already, Kain was thinking. He stroked a hand through his then long hair; his blonde strands tied back into a loose ponytail. 'Women like long hair; they'll like you too.' That was also in the letter. Kain met his friend (his name was Tregarrious Andilus, but everyone called him 'Tregan' for short. A sort of mix between his first and last name, though later someone would say that a drunk started calling him that because he couldn't pronounce 'Tregarrious.' So the drunk just called him by his dog's name, which was Tregan. No one knows if the drunk really had a dog called Tregan, and Tregarrious vehemently denies this story). He joined Tregan at the local tavern to share a drink and talk the talk. Kain took off his helmet, shook Tregan's hand, and sat with him at one of the wooden tables in the far corner of the tavern.
A pretty, young barmaid by the name of Bella, served up the first round of beers for the two young gentlemen. Her beautiful green eyes and luscious red lips made Kain's blood boil. Her coal black hair had graced Kain's face, allowing him the opportunity to smell those sweet, wavy tendrils of hers. She wore a very tight barmaids' outfit—a little pink number that sported a deep V-neck and a skirt cut a few inches above her knees. Kain took a long, hungry look down her cleavage as she bent over to set down their drinks, eyeing the black lacy bra which peeked out and cupped those ample white breasts of hers (I wonder what those feel like), then paid as much attention to the curves of her rear as she walked away, the outline of her panties seemed to be calling to him (I'd like that sitting on my legs…and my…).
Tregan, who came into the tavern practically every day, had no reason to look at the barmaid this time, and instead kept his eyes on Kain with great amusement. He'd never seen Kain act so…so (horny?) interested. That's probably because the chicks in Baron were all married with kids and the enormous weight of responsibility that comes with it had taken its toll, and made the women unattractive, he thought. Maybe they're just all ugly. Oh to be young and thoughtless, that was these two.
A sudden shriek and explosion took Kain's attention away from Bella's round, supple (tight) rear end. A horde of yells and screams and another explosion rocked the tavern, cracking windows and causing people to duck for cover. Kain grabbed his spear--a special spear with four large, feathered hooks at the base of a diamond-shaped blade and two grips along the metallic shaft made from a blacksmith in Baron—placed his helmet on his head, and dashed outside with Tregan following. Cutting through the traffic of running villagers screaming for their lives, Kain headed for an enormous cloud of smoke that emanated from a two-story house that caught fire. A pair of gigantic, red, scaly wings was cutting through the bales of smoke and dust like a knife through a chocolate cake.
Being one in his late teens, Kain was totally ecstatic and excited to be able to have this opportunity to slay his first dragon (turn it into jerky was what he actually wanted to do). A pack of lightly armored soldiers were already on the scene trying to push back the thirty-foot tall reptile. Most of their efforts were in vain as most of their weapons hit the red dragon harmlessly. Kain could have sworn the dragon was laughing at them.
"God it's big." Kain just stood and stared at the crimson beast dancing with the thick, gray smoke.
"No shit," Tregan came up beside him following his gaze. "So Mr. Wanna-be-a-Dragoon-just-like-my-father-and-no-one's-gonna-stop-me, what do you plan to do?"
Kain was at a complete loss for words. He was so intent on finding a dragon to kill that he never really shaped a game plan for taking one down. "I'm going to…"
(What am I going to do?)
Out of nowhere a great bolt of lightning came crashing down on the unsuspecting dragon, white shards of energy zipping and zapping in and around it, knocking it senseless. Kain quickly scanned the area looking for the source, his eyes panned from left to right under the shadow of his helmet. A farmer moving his cattle out of the barn, two women (looks like mother and daughter) cowering under an empty wooden cart, a man carrying his crying baby away from the action—there he is!
A black magician, garbed in a hooded cloak that trailed about two feet behind him, was standing near the well on the east side of the village where no one else was. His long, gray hair with matching beard blew from side to side in a funnel of wind that had encircled his body. The mages hands were clasped together, holding a set of beads with a silver talisman dangling below it. The funnel surrounding him grew larger as a sort of blue electricity sparked within it here and there, but never hurting the black mage. With a smooth hand gesture and a step towards its intended target, the mage hurled the funnel at the red dragon. Jagged beams of blue light now erratically filled the wind tube in disorderly fashion, accompanied by the loud screeches of electricity. The red dragon was hit head on in its back. The blue electricity sent a shockwave through the beast's body causing its neck and head to recoil backwards, and sent a deafening roar of pain out of its lungs. The wind enveloped the dragon, spinning, tearing its wings to shreds, and making the world go round. The funnel dissipated, allowing whatever leaves and garbage it had picked up along the way to fall to the ground. The dragon, in such complete shock and despair, limped forward; spikes of blue electricity still flowing over it in some places. Its neck snapped back to the front, lowered in pain no less than ten feet off the ground, its legs staggered.
Kain saw this as the perfect opportunity and without giving it any thought, he leaped high into the air, using the skills he had acquired through intense training to hit a peak of about thirty-five feet. He twisted and flipped in gymnastic fashion, moving his special spear from one hand to the other, then vice versa, more for show than anything else. The speed at which he descended with was tremendous causing half of his blue-armored body to blur; his helmet had streaked a bright light reflected from the sun and looked like a shooting star crashing to the ground. With a sharp eye, Kain locked in on the exact spot on which he would impale the dragon, like a bowman catching a target in his crosshairs. The spear hit its mark, right between the ears, stabbing the dragon deep within its scaly head and straight to the brain, sending blood, bone, and sinew flying everywhere. The impact echoed out a clanging sound, as if his armor was speaking loudly of its successful hit. The dragon let out a horrendous cry, lifted its head in agony, and spewed hot flames out of its gaping mouth. The grips on the spear helped Kain to hold on, and the feathered hooks made sure the spear stayed in the dragon's skull. And with one strong move Kain twisted the spear, spun it around once, and pushed his special weapon deeper into the monster's cranium. One last gasp and that was it. The red dragon's head came crashing down to the grassy, bloodstained surface with a very distinct thud.
After he caught his balance, Kain gave his spear a quick jerk to the left, then to the right, and finally ripped his weapon out of the lifeless head of the dragon. A small leap to the ground later and he was surrounded by many of the villagers who thanked him for his courage and bravery (I did it!), shook his hand, gave him hugs and kisses, and asked him what it felt like to kill such a monster (I did it!).
Kain looked over his shoulder, over the crowd of thankful people, but the black magician was nowhere to be seen, like he was never there at all. More people had gathered around their 'hero' and some of them had lifted Kain upon their shoulders; the crowd cheered, and raised their hands in celebration. Tregan was one of those that lifted Kain up, and yelled to the crowd, "Kain the Dragoon has saved the village!" A loud 'hooray' was spoken in unison as the villagers carried their 'hero' back to the tavern, to buy him drinks, to ask him where he was from, and other questions that really wouldn't matter many days later. As he was being led back to the tavern on the shoulders of his friend and others, Kain desperately searched the village once more to find any traces of the black mage with the gray hair and beard, and the silver talisman; the one who created the funnel and the lightning bolt; the one who caused the dragon so much pain allowing Kain to finish the job.
I didn't do it, he thought to himself. I'm not deserving of this.
His conversations with the villagers who surrounded him in the tavern—Kain's new 'buddies'—were nothing more than glory stories told through the voice of a man who knows he is not worthy. That didn't stop him from exaggerating his feelings and emotions as he killed the dangerous red beast—heart racing, body full of adrenaline, but he did what he had to do to save the village, blah, blah, blah, and so on (I was scared to death actually, putting the finishing touches on a monster that was already half dead and buckling forward toward the ground. The mage did more internal damage than I did externally, probably caused the dragon's heart to skip beats and possibly brain damage).
Later on that night, Kain would find himself in the arms of Bella the barmaid, holding her close in a room of the Palidor Inn. On a very springy bed, among candlelight and wine (the finest, donated by the tavern to the 'village hero'), Kain had lost his virginity. He felt his first woman, gathered her sweet (so sweet) scent into his nostrils, into his very soul; grasped warmly of her naked form—every curve, every crevice—watched her fluid movements with exotic wonder; tasted the soft, white skin that seemed to melt under his smooth, wet tongue; groped and caressed everything that was physically sacred to her as he hungrily kissed of her full, red lips; enraptured by her pleasurable moans (that high pitched sexual tone); felt her hands move slowly across his body—his broad chest, the expanse of his back down to his tail bone, further down—her coal black hair encompassed their sweat soaked bodies; the candlelight flickered, their shadows made love on the walls; and as the full moon hit its peak in the night's cloudless sky, they embraced their bodies together in a sexual odyssey that they would share for many more nights.
Years later, after the Zeromus War, Kain would relinquish his Dragoon Helm for a more natural look, for reasons yet to be explained. The war served to be a great learning process for him—about his soul, about his wants and desires, about his priorities and what makes Kain who he is. Who he is now is someone in great need of clarification, for another one of his friends (one who he would do anything for), was about to leave.
Kain points to one of his soldiers, an ensign, and tells him to get one of the airships ready for take-off.
"What's in Toroia?" His question directed at Rosa who now makes her way down the castle's Royal Hallway.
"A sage," she speedily walks through the open doorway to her bedroom chambers, left open by Nanny she supposed. "I met her a few years ago while on an excursion with a few of my students. I was teaching them the magical properties of certain stone fragments which could only be found out there," She grabs a leather satchel from beside her dresser drawer knocking down a few toiletries in the process, but paying no mind to them. "I entered the shop of the sage looking for a specific type of limestone, which she didn't have, but she told me what her business was about. She's a kind of psychic, 'the all seeing' kind; you know the type."
Kain nods. He'd seen all kinds of characters make their way to and through Baron—crazy old salesmen selling 'the next best thing' when it comes to cleaning your home, or the bald man who says he has a magic pill that can make your hair grow back, or old ladies who say they can see into the future and tell you your fortune if you've got enough money for it.
"Just for fun I tested her. She said she could tell me who my husband was, where he was, what he was doing at the time, and so on. I gave her my wedding ring to hold onto, because apparently she needs to be in contact with something that relates to the person in question, and I let her have a go at it. I figured the first question was easy because most people know who I am no matter where they're from, so in turn they would know who my husband was. She went on about Cecil and I thought to myself, 'I wouldn't know what he was doing at this moment unless I asked him when I get home.' Well, I was just about to ask for my ring back when the sage started to talk about me, about my life. She spoke to me about places I've been, things I've seen, my innermost secrets and desires, things I've never told Cecil or anyone else about…" She opens her dresser and begins to literally throw some of her clothing into the bag at a frantic pace. "That's when I became a believer. I've never gone back to her ever since, but I know she'll be able to help me find my children."
Kain watches Rosa toss her clothing into the brown satchel—a pair of long, white, satin pants, a matching shirt, a pair of beige cotton shorts, some brassieres, more shirts—he is now aware that Rosa has no intention of returning to Baron once the sage told her of her children's whereabouts.
"I should go with you."
"If you come with me, who's going to watch over Baron?" She continues her packing without lifting her eyes to Kain. "Cid's not here, and I really hate the idea of leaving the High Council in charge." Kain had to agree with her on that. Rosa flings a few pairs of underwear into the satchel and heads for her nightstand. Kain looks into her bag and eyes a pair of black, slightly transparent, silk panties, laced all around the edges with a purple heart embroidered in the center, reminding him of a pair of panties Bella had worn for him all those years ago. Kain quickly returns his gaze toward Rosa as she returns to her satchel, casting into it a brush, one of her spell books, and a few of her small bands that she uses to tie her hair into a ponytail. After taking a quick scan of her room, Rosa zips up her brown, leather satchel, grabs a long metal rod leaning against the side of her oak dresser, and heads out the door; her pace slightly faster than when she came into it.
As Rosa and Kain enter the courtyard, one of the undamaged airships in a makeshift hangar just outside the castle begins to rev up. Small clouds of dust and debris start to form under the propellers. At the bottom of the ramp, Rosa turns to Kain and wraps an arm around his neck, her head resting upon his shoulder.
"I have to do this," her voice a little choked up. "I'm sorry to leave you alone like this."
"I'll pray for you and the safe return of your children Rosa." His arms, wrapped in armor, hold Rosa around her waist. Her golden hair blowing in the wind cascades across Kain's slightly tanned face; its smell reminding him again of Bella from Palidor. After giving him a small peck on his cheek, Rosa turns to the ramp behind her, her hand sliding down Kain's arm then clasping his hand within hers for a moment. Then her forward stride leads her up the ramp, forcing their clutched hands to break their union. Their separation felt to Kain like it did when Cecil left just moments ago, except this one was more (romantic? Slightly erotic?) emotional. As the airship bearing the crest of Baron lifts off the solid ground beneath it, Kain waits to see if Rosa will look over the railing to wave at him. A tear streaks down his slightly tanned cheeks as he raises his hand to wave; Rosa looking over the railing and waving her hand in a way to say, 'I'll see you soon.'
The airship makes a roundabout turn toward the northwest, increasing its speed and altitude, and slowly disappearing in the distance.
Maybe I should see this so-called 'Sage of Toroia,' he thinks. Maybe she can tell me what the future holds for me. And with that, Kain re-enters the castle to continue the relief and rebuilding efforts, his mind never trailing from the image of Bella (Rosa) in his thoughts.