*** Chapter Three: When Angels Deserve to Die
The dawn rose cold and mysterious as the fog was deciding to lift on the ruins of Lahan. The unspeakable stench of burning flesh was still upon the land. Although not overwhelming, the odor would be in concious mind until the next spring.
The doctor was greeted by a few villagers that had remained in on the site of the ruins. A few of them had thought they had seen a ghost walk past. Citan thought to himself they were half-right; after how he felt without Sigurd again.... He became lost in thought and stumbled over a fallen support beam from a used-to-be house.
Recovering, he stopped and took in his surroundings and the land that lay ahead. The old path was still the same. He almost thought he could go back to Yui and Midori. Midori was left to her true father. He regretted never telling her she loved her, for he had, as if she were his own.
He jumped at the sound of his own name. A woman dressed in a dark, ordinary robe, and a light brown head-scarf paced toward him[1], holding a small bundle wrapped in a bright, multi-colored almost gypsy-like scarf.
"Hyuga," Her voice was soft, hurt. "I have been trying to reach you for quite a while..." She stopped three steps away from him, her face still hidden within a fold of her scarf. "Do you know who I am?" She took another step towards him, lifting her head to stare through him with her ice-blue eyes.
He open his mouth to speak, scream, gasp all at the same time, with no result.
"Yes, Hyu-chan. I'm back."
Sigurd stood at attention beside the slouching ex-prince. The blond had his arms folded in a rebellious manner in front of him. Their apparent attitudes were opposite, but their thoughts were identical: "I wanna go HOME!"
"Mr. Hardcourt," a man approached them. "There has been a suspicious person looming about this past week. I assume you know your assignment?"
"Yeah, we know what the hell we're doing." Bart offered irately.
"Then, off you go." And with that, the man turned on his heel and left for the capitol building.
"Damn Republican..." Bart muttered.
"This was your id--"
"I know it was my stupid idea, Sigurd, thanks."
"Don't bitch me out for it." Sigurd grumbled back. "Let's waste this guy then get the hell home."
"Holy electric eels, Batman! Gods, Sig, you're starting to sound like me..."
And with that revelation, they were off searching the streets. Bart had landed himself at the local bar, after forbidding Sigurd to do so.
"So," He asked the buff-looking bartender. "Seen any shady characters around here?"
The bartender responded by looking at him as if an alien had taken residence under his eye patch. "Ya don' live heah, do ya?"
"I... used to..." Suddenly he felt very out of place.
"In case yer lookin' for another newcomer like yerself, he's around someplace... Usually comes around talking to people. Askin' people 'bout a woman. No one's ever seen his broad, though."
"Yeah?! What's he look like?"
"Look for yerself, there 'e is."
Bart turned instantly, amazed at the timing. His tall, dark stranger strode past, not glancing at him until he sat down and was handed a drink.
"What?" His voice was low, almost a growl. Bart immediately noticed his eyes; red and bright, he was reminded for a brief instant of Id, but shook it off as he took in the atmosphere around this man. Id was flaming destruction, this man was icy loathing, regret, and ...childishness? Was this another lost little boy the world already knows too many of?
[1] Think Jasmine when she goes out into the marketplace for the first time.
The dawn rose cold and mysterious as the fog was deciding to lift on the ruins of Lahan. The unspeakable stench of burning flesh was still upon the land. Although not overwhelming, the odor would be in concious mind until the next spring.
The doctor was greeted by a few villagers that had remained in on the site of the ruins. A few of them had thought they had seen a ghost walk past. Citan thought to himself they were half-right; after how he felt without Sigurd again.... He became lost in thought and stumbled over a fallen support beam from a used-to-be house.
Recovering, he stopped and took in his surroundings and the land that lay ahead. The old path was still the same. He almost thought he could go back to Yui and Midori. Midori was left to her true father. He regretted never telling her she loved her, for he had, as if she were his own.
He jumped at the sound of his own name. A woman dressed in a dark, ordinary robe, and a light brown head-scarf paced toward him[1], holding a small bundle wrapped in a bright, multi-colored almost gypsy-like scarf.
"Hyuga," Her voice was soft, hurt. "I have been trying to reach you for quite a while..." She stopped three steps away from him, her face still hidden within a fold of her scarf. "Do you know who I am?" She took another step towards him, lifting her head to stare through him with her ice-blue eyes.
He open his mouth to speak, scream, gasp all at the same time, with no result.
"Yes, Hyu-chan. I'm back."
Sigurd stood at attention beside the slouching ex-prince. The blond had his arms folded in a rebellious manner in front of him. Their apparent attitudes were opposite, but their thoughts were identical: "I wanna go HOME!"
"Mr. Hardcourt," a man approached them. "There has been a suspicious person looming about this past week. I assume you know your assignment?"
"Yeah, we know what the hell we're doing." Bart offered irately.
"Then, off you go." And with that, the man turned on his heel and left for the capitol building.
"Damn Republican..." Bart muttered.
"This was your id--"
"I know it was my stupid idea, Sigurd, thanks."
"Don't bitch me out for it." Sigurd grumbled back. "Let's waste this guy then get the hell home."
"Holy electric eels, Batman! Gods, Sig, you're starting to sound like me..."
And with that revelation, they were off searching the streets. Bart had landed himself at the local bar, after forbidding Sigurd to do so.
"So," He asked the buff-looking bartender. "Seen any shady characters around here?"
The bartender responded by looking at him as if an alien had taken residence under his eye patch. "Ya don' live heah, do ya?"
"I... used to..." Suddenly he felt very out of place.
"In case yer lookin' for another newcomer like yerself, he's around someplace... Usually comes around talking to people. Askin' people 'bout a woman. No one's ever seen his broad, though."
"Yeah?! What's he look like?"
"Look for yerself, there 'e is."
Bart turned instantly, amazed at the timing. His tall, dark stranger strode past, not glancing at him until he sat down and was handed a drink.
"What?" His voice was low, almost a growl. Bart immediately noticed his eyes; red and bright, he was reminded for a brief instant of Id, but shook it off as he took in the atmosphere around this man. Id was flaming destruction, this man was icy loathing, regret, and ...childishness? Was this another lost little boy the world already knows too many of?
[1] Think Jasmine when she goes out into the marketplace for the first time.