And
learn to fly…"
~Umbra
"Ashley" paled a voice against the
roar of Dark in the boy's ears.
The small frame was walking away,
yet as it did so, the frame grew into that of a man's and then a warrior's. The
movements were so familiar, yet never seen.
Even so, the boy knew that he didn't
want this person to leave, and so he called out again, "Ashley, don't leave me…
please." /Somehow, I need you…/
Tears fell from reddened eyes, their
ebony light only emitting loneliness before rippling the glass pool below the
boy's feet.
"Ashley…" fell upon deaf ears, and
the darkness swallowed the person, leaving only several ripples as a sign of
'his' exit. The same person the boy named 'Sydney' had dreamed about and prayed
for relentlessly for as long as he could See was now leaving him.
The Dark
blew against the boy's robes, and whispered through his hair, leaving a
forbidden scent of magick against his skin.
"Sydney."
When footsteps in the Waking became apparent, the
Dark blew itself from his closed eyes, and the sapphires that opened lazily
surveyed the city of Lea Monde from the balcony's edge. Moments before, he had
watched the Riskbreaker pass through the massive wooden doors to another test
of fate.
Recognizing the familiar footfalls on the stone
floor, a smile broke for his friend before the noble, yet bored voice spoke,
"It's only you, Hardin."
The slight monotone was interrupted, "I do not know
whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, Sydney. I bear news of your
orders." After a quick survey of Sydney's poise, the calm warrior frowned
slightly at the heavy aire of Dark around his friend; it seemed to keep the
slight mage at a distance and his soul painfully vagrant. He cursed himself for
all the fighting and sorcerer skills he possessed, yet none of them could lift
some of the burden of the Rood.
Intrigued by mild interest, Hardin's last word was
punctuated by a swirling of cape before the cult leader addressed one of his
most devout, "Then speak, friend. Of what news does your tongue carry?"
"The boy and Inquisitor are in my custody… I am
surprised she hasn't made my job harder, after all… she does carry the ability
to 'See'."
"And?" the voice slowly picking up interest.
"Surely you have seen this, Sydney? But, never the
matter. It will make your 'game' more interesting in the long run." /So will
this 'Riskbreaker' that Sydney claims as his 'chosen'…/
"So it will. What of our Dark friends?"
"The rest of the sigils are in place. Yet, as you
may well know, it seems dear Guildenstern finds ways to meet his goals within
our Lea Monde labyrinth without passing through any of them. And the
Riskbreaker… The VKP has chosen well" Hardin finished, more or less stating the
obvious.
At this, Sydney released a slight smile before he
returned his view to over the balcony. /I'm sorry, Riskbreaker for every
drop of blood you shed in this 'game' of mine. The Hunter must fight the forest
to catch his prey. I never said it was an easy quest. But then again, neither
is mine…these 'divine rats' seem to consider my hide quite a valuable bounty as
well. I promise, though… your blood will be tributed. Once all of this is over.
I promise. /
"You have feelings for him, don't you?" A protest
was at hand, before it was silenced, "Do not try to lie that it is just because
he is your chosen. Our next Messiah."
Releasing a dark chuckle, "Zounds! And what is it
that gives you that impression? What of that? I am not a pale fool that you can
read so readily," the young mage practically spat.
"Be calm, Sydney," the taller man apologized, "You
know I have the power to See as well… however, that is not what tells me; I see
the way you look at him. As if-"
"Be silent!" Sydney yelled with a slight edge of
hysteria. Hardin's words cut off by the ice command. Regaining his composure,
"The business is not of yours."
/But it is, Sydney. /
"Forgive me, Sydney. I have o'ershot myself." The
cultist leader began to feel unnerved by the assessing stare Hardin gave him.
It was not filled with anger nor coldness, but of caring, one that searched and
would find any strand of misguided emotion, occasionally known and called
sadness. A gesture of caring one would find in an older sibling. For that,
Sydney placed the strongest barriers on his poise, but it had the opposite
effect. Instead of leaving to sort out his feelings with the Dark, Hardin
closed the gap between them and enclosed Sydney in a tight embrace.
The struggle Sydney put up to this unaccustomed
display of friendship made Hardin wince in more than one place. "Take your
hands off me!" One of Sydney's hands escaped, shoving sharply at Hardin's ribs
before Hardin grabbed it.
"Sydney!"
Hardin blessed whatever god had made the youth pause
before he spat the answer, "What?!"
"Calm down before you wake the dead!"
"I'm not some child! Unhand me!"
"Lie to me, Sydney; but do not do yourself the
disservice of lying to your heart." Shocked for more than once during their
'conversation', Sydney looked at him as if he just spoke Kildean backwards.
"I say this as a friend," Hardin continued, giving
one last embrace that was not returned, but at least, Hardin sighed, with any
blows. The swordsman released him and began to turn. As he walked away, Sydney
could feel the recession of his aura. Opening an ornately carved door, Hardin
bid the exacerbated mage goodbye, "Even though yours is immortal,
it is only one life, Sydney. Do not allow yours to bewray regrets, I beg of
you." /When all of this is over, take care of him, Riskbreaker. /
The solid shutting of the door and alone, the Dark
fled to him as a mother would to a hurt child when the sorcerer allowed his
head to collapse in his arms. Thoughts that he would never have thought broke
over his conscience's dam, flooding and drowning the confused child inside, the
part of his soul that knew what he wanted, but couldn't have. /It's going to
be a long operation…Right, Riskbreaker? /
Surrendering
the Waking, they fell upon like rain upon his heart, none could pierce it, and
Sydney would not allow himself to cry; after all, a stone heart was the very
vice that he had struggled with.
End of Chapter 1 Part 1
Notes of the Author:
[1] Impressive, from the viewpoint that I've overcome
procrastination, my first debut in the fanfiction universe. I hope this piece
will be accepted well. Though it is my first in fanfiction, I have had other
pieces in poetry placed on the web. To name a few, "Lamentation of a Soldier",
"Watch the Rain", and soon "Songs of Reflection." If wanted, they can be found
on Fanfiction.net, as this piece will show up on.
[2] Comments and Criticism are always, always welcome. I can
be contacted @ Shizuka_no_Kaze@juno.com. However, please make it
constructive. If you flame, it will be used as comic relief for tired nerves,
before being thrown away. I, as everyone who writes can improve upon their
skills, and the best form comes from their readers.
[3] I know, one is expected to make Author's Notes
relatively short, but I'm one to run in circles before getting to the point. I
do need some feedback on this though, 1) I will be converting the spoken text
to Olde English as it is seen in the English version of Vagrant Story. I'm
considering thoughts too… suggestions?
2) Should I place the introductory poem in each section,
each chapter, or leave it be at the beginning only? I'm not sure if I have the
creativity to create one for each chapter, though it would be nice.
[4] Ah, my vices; I over-use descriptives, there's a whisper
of a plot, I love to use passive voice (ah, rebellion against staunch
teachings), and it's hard for me to incorporate humour, so I prefer angsty
writing styles. However, I do intend for this piece to lighten up once I get
Mullenkamp to kick Sydney for drowning in his sorrow. Heh, couldn't leave her
out. Truly, though, I don't believe Vagrant Story fanfiction could hold itself
without the little-less-than-sane cult goddess throwing in her opinions. I love
the way Lunar has portrayed Mullenkamp; I hope that I will do half the job she
has. Oh, and I ramble on…
[5] Incase no one noticed, this will evolve into (if not
already) a shounen-ai genre; I'm giving my warning. I won't listen if someone
complains Ashley and Sydney don't belong together; there's so much chemistry
between them that spontaneous combustion is quite a possibility. If you're
still complaining, then you weren't paying attention at all
during the game.
[6] Even I, the author wants to tell him, "It was just a
hug, Sydney! He wasn't trying to suffocate you or anything…"
Disclaimer: Yes, I put this at the end, so as not to ruin
the mood for others. These characters, and part of the background story (I do
admit to changing sequences and stuff) belong to the almighty Square; I am just
temporarily borrowing them to do cruel things to their minds. Don't blame me if
I get something wrong. Feel free to e-mail me at the address above to correct
me. For those as frivolous as to threaten with a lawsuit, don't bother; it
would be a waste of your time. I have money and a great lawyer who will happily
turn the case around to charge you with harassment, thereby leaving you the one
broke. Other than that, please have a nice day. (mutters something about such
base individuals)
