Between the Shadows

By: Ethereal Fury

Chapter Fifteen: Close Encounter

The old man's shop was dark and seemingly deserted when Aurora and Zephyr finally reached it, a dim light from the floor above giving the weathered sign above the door, swaying in the light sea breeze, an almost ethereal glow. "Damned old man. I will pound his frail ass to the ground if he has closed the shop on me", Zephyr grumbled under his breath as he climbed the two steps leading to the rickety door. Aurora shot him an amused look and promptly followed him up the steps, watching as he reached a hand towards the wobbly doorknob. It definitely would not be pretty if the shop was indeed closed; he seemed totally capable of barging inside and dragging the owner from his slumber. Aurora stifled a giggle; it would be an interesting sight to see him, all decked out stylishly in black leather and jeans, haul a fragile old man in his nightgown and sleeping cap just so he could have his gunblade. He glanced at her sideways, narrowing his eyes, and turned the doorknob.

To their surprise, the knob turned easily in Zephyr's hand and the door creaked open, the sound of the chime on its top ringing loud and clear in the darkened and empty shop. With a shrug of his shoulders, Zephyr stepped through the small doorway and into the blackness of the shop's interior, signaling for Aurora to follow and shut the door behind her. She stepped carefully onto the creaking floorboards and closed the rickety door gingerly, engulfing them both in complete darkness.

"Are you sure this is open?" she asked uncertainly, attempting to see something in the darkened room.

Zephyr shrugged in response, then realizing she probably couldn't see him, since she wasn't used to forcing her senses to adjust rapidly, turned to her and replied matter-of-factly, "The door was open."

Aurora rolled her eyes in the dark, unaware that Zephyr's keen sight was fixed on her and that he could see her although she couldn't him. It was amusing to watch her narrow her eyes in concentration and strain to catch a glimpse of something in the pitch blackness, hesitantly stepping back and to her left, completely unaware that she had backed herself against a counter in the corner. One more step and she would plow straight into it. As entertaining at that may have seemed to Zephyr, the last thing they needed was the old man thinking his shop was being broken into… although technically, it was. Thankfully, Aurora seemed to have stopped moving and had apparently decided to remain still in her place by the counter. He spotted the silvery light switch behind her and noiselessly closed the distance between them, stopping but a foot away from her. He reached a tentative hand towards the switch, only to discover his arm wasn't quite long enough.

"Damn," he muttered, unaware he'd spoken aloud.

Aurora jumped at the sudden sound of his voice and narrowed her eyes again in an attempt to distinguish his outline from the looming shadows inside the small room. She sighed in frustration, as she could discern nothing but the blackness around her, and tapped her sneakered foot on the wooden floor. "Mr. Kane, where are you?" she called out loudly, assuming him to be near the back of the shop.

In front of you dammit, don't frickin' yell, he snapped in his thoughts, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. Receiving no reply— had she really expected one anyway?— Aurora just sighed again and crossed her arms over her chest. After ensuring that she wasn't going to speak again— and blow out his eardrums in the process— he uncovered his ears and took another silent step forwards, getting as close to Aurora (and the light switch) as he could without touching her. Zephyr once again reached a hand over her shoulder towards the silvery switch, leaning forwards slightly to be able to reach. He was painfully aware of their extreme proximity— if she raised her head in the slightest, she would hit his chin— and swallowed nervously, his hand wavering slightly as his fingers brushed against the cool metal of the outlet. He could smell the sweet coconut scent of her hair once more and his mind played back the comfortable feel of her petite body against his own and her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin on his neck. Shaking his head slightly to rid his thoughts of her, Zephyr flicked the switch and bright light flooded the small room.

Aurora shut her eyes instinctively as the stinging light unexpectedly inundated the room. After a few seconds, she opened them slightly and blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the sudden onslaught of brightness that flooded her senses and made her feel almost dizzy. That's when she noticed Zephyr's intricate platinum pendant dangling in front of her, swinging in an almost hypnotic motion, the fluorescent light twinkling off it. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she brought a hand up from her side to trace the elaborate figure engraved on it, an emblem of sorts. She tugged on it absently, her fingers tracing every groove etched on the cool platinum surface, and followed its ornate chain up to his neck and beyond, past his Adam's apple and up to his chin. Aurora had never noticed before, but there was the smallest of dimples— only a swirl really— boyishly present in the middle of his chin, giving him an adorably youthful appearance.

She tilted her head up to look at him fully, noticing for the first time just how close they actually were, her breath catching in her throat as it dawned on her that his face was mere inches from her own. Her gaze traveled over his strikingly handsome yet delicate features, studying each attentively, for she'd never been this close to him and doubted she would be again. Aurora took notice of his lips, surprisingly full for a guy and almost pouty, curved into that sexy half smile of his, causing ghosts of his cute dimples to appear on his cheeks. Further inspection brought her to his slender nose, upon which minute freckles were haphazardly strewn, and up to the long and abundant lashes that framed his hypnotic blue eyes, currently locked with her own and reflecting his curiosity of what she was doing. Those eyes… Aurora felt she could lose herself in their azure depths, doing nothing but watching the light glinting off them and the shadows playing across them. His right eyebrow was quirked in question, making the tiny scar above it— the one he unconsciously tugged at when he was nervous— disappear behind the curtain of jagged chestnut locks that fell in that stylishly messy (and completely adorable) heap over his forehead and eyes. He was attractive to say the least; not in Reed's rugged, masculine, I-turn-heads-and-stop-traffic-when-I-walk-down-the-street way, but in a mysterious, quiet, almost sensual and vulnerable way… slightly feminine without losing his enticing manly appeal.

Gingerly, and somewhat subconsciously, Aurora brought the hand that had been tugging at his chain up to his face and ran her index finger cautiously over one of the shallow training scratches on his cheek. Zephyr's eyes widened in surprise at the contact and his left eyebrow shot upward in askance, but did nothing to stop her. Growing bolder, she brushed her fingertips over the scar above his right eyebrow, wincing slightly at its still-tender feel. It couldn't be more than a few months old at most, probably another souvenir of gunblade training, and she briefly wondered what it would feel like to be slashed above the eye with a four-foot titanium blade. She could just see him, taking the hit without flinching and stubbornly continuing his training even with the blood dripping over his eye… just like he'd taken the emotional blows life had dealt him and remained firmly on his feet. Her fingers continued, as if having a mind of their own, upward to tangle themselves in his unruly locks.

Zephyr watched in amusement as Aurora ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to clear it from his face. As much as he hated to admit it, the feel of her fingertips tickling his scalp was comforting, and dammit, downright pleasurable. It reminded him of when his mother would go into his room at night and stroke his hair and tell him his father would return safe from a mission, and of how Auron would ruffle his son's hair playfully when he indeed came back safe and sound. Zephyr suppressed a chuckle as Aurora's expression turned to frustration as his hair returned to its customary messy heap over his eyes for the second time. It was useless; no matter how hard she tried to tame his locks, they would always revert to their original disorganized style— which is why he never bother much with his hair anyway; just wash, towel-dry, and go. He wanted to tell her to stop doing this to him, to stop making him feel, that it was futile anyway because his hair would always be the way it was, but his brain was too busy registering the tingling sensation he felt every time her fingers met his scalp to be able to form the words.

You're pathetic Leonstrife, you know that? She's got you turned into one of those smitten, lovesick creeps in those chick flicks Reed watches with his dates. You're a man dammit, not some girl's bitch… I can just see her going, with that cute pout of hers, "Mr. Kane, jump out that window for me?" and before you know what you're doing, you'll be out that window like she asked. Without a second thought… and that's not even your name. You're far sadder than Reed, Leonstrife; at least he's not half as whipped as you are, his inner voice commented with disgust.

It was right; he had to go and find his gunblade and get her home before one of these 'moments' turned into something he would regret for the rest of his miserable existence. It was for the best anyway; what he really wanted didn't matter as long as he could help Storm... yeah, he should definitely go get Punishment, but damn it, did electricity just have to course down his veins every time she touched him? And did she just have to look so temptingly pleasing in the bright light… and hell, now that he was at it, did that skirt just have to reveal so much of her flawless skin? He was only a guy after all; aloof or not, he had hormones and weaknesses… and somehow she just managed to find most of them. The fact that the only thing he really wanted to do— and found himself beginning to do— was close the almost nonexistent gap between them wasn't helping any either. With a frustrated growl, he forced his gaze away from her own and saw, reflected on a silver plaque above her head, Punishment's case on a table in the opposite corner of the shop. Without a single word, Zephyr turned on his heel and strode over to his gunblade.

Aurora blinked, watching him walking away for the third time since she had met him in the tavern now seemingly so long ago. The moment was broken, the sound of his heavy boots thudding on the creaking floorboards pulling her from the almost trance-like state she had been in. In retrospect, she could not believe she had been blatantly flirting with him like that— she'd run her fingers over his scars and through his hair for crying out loud. The fact that he'd done nothing to stop her perplexed and thrilled her at the same time— could he really be attracted to her like she was to him? It seemed farfetched and preposterous, but she had a feeling that anything was possible with him. Aurora almost laughed aloud at the thought… yeah, everything was possible with him… except a relationship.

She shook her head in quiet disbelief. It wasn't like her at all to be so forward when it came to the opposite sex; heck, if Reed hadn't approached her, she never would have gone out with him even if she had found him irresistibly good-looking. It had taken him a month of dates and flattery to get her to allow him to kiss her, yet in the fewer than five minutes she had spent in the intimate proximity of the mysterious man before her, the urge to kiss him had been so overwhelming she had almost given in to it. And truth be told, she was regretting she hadn't. Would he have immediately pulled away, or would he have returned it? More importantly, how would his soft lips have felt upon her own? Aurora shook her head, trying to force the uninvited errant thoughts from her mind. It was wishful thinking anyway; it would never happen and thinking about it wasn't helping anyone, especially not her. But the thoughts steadfastly refused to budge and lingered in her mind as she stepped up beside him to peer over his shoulder at what he was doing. As she stood on tiptoe to be able to see, her chin lightly brushed against the cool leather of his jacket, immediately making her skin tingle and her heartbeat quicken. Inwardly damning him for having that effect on her, she tried to focus her attention not on the warmth radiating from him, but on what he was currently doing. He seemed to be holding a business card of some sort.

Zephyr picked up the small cardboard rectangle atop his new gunblade case, examining the elegant cursive that spelled his name. Zephyr Alewar Leonstrife ; it looked almost regal in that neat black ink upon worn the ivory parchment… almost. He was surprised that a simple old man that owned a gunblade shop and had known his father remembered his middle name, a name he had almost forgotten and not used in over a decade. Alewar… the name rolled easily on his tongue, though it felt foreign even to him. No one had called him that in a very long time; in fact, he was sure Headmaster Rayn was the only other person apart from his immediate 'family' and this old man that possibly knew he even had a middle name. His mother had picked it shortly before he had been born ('Zephyr' had been his father's request), inspired by the stoic hero in her favorite novel at the time, meaning "guard of all". He smiled bitterly at the thought and the irony of its meaning; he sure as hell hadn't done a very good job of guarding anyone, especially not Storm, and now he was going to kill a man. Fate and Destiny had a way of dealing their cards with the most ironic outcomes.

Hearing Aurora's footsteps behind him, Zephyr promptly flipped the card over. The last thing he needed right now, especially while he was still shaken from their prior close encounter, was an argument over why he had told her his name was Auron Kane when it really wasn't. He had already told her more than he should have; his real name would have to wait. Besides, it was easier for him to handle her being attracted to the fictitious Mr. Kane than to the real Zephyr. It's not like they would be getting anywhere, so what did names really matter? As that thought struck him, he noticed the small typed print on the card's reverse and brought it up for closer inspection. Sawyer Blade, Gunblade Care Specialist and Manufacturer it read. Blade… Blade… Blade?! Zephyr's eyes widened in surprise. It couldn't be… but Blade wasn't a very common Zanarkist surname… it had to be! No… it was impossible. A pair of blue eyes, a shade or two lighter than his own and framed by wrinkles, appeared in his mind… the old man's eyes. They were suddenly replaced by an identical but younger, and this time female, pair framed by golden hair. Those cornflower blues could only belong to one person, one he knew quite well.

Whoa, he thought in recognition, this man is the Instructor's father? No way… he's way too old. My old man would be in his late thirties or early forties if he were alive… this guy is in his late sixties. And he said something about a daughter, Kerryn or something… her grandfather perhaps? Nah, it can't be… she'd know if her grandfather were alive, wouldn't she?

Zephyr shook his head, dismissing the thought, and reached a hand towards the back of the gunblade case to open the latch and check on Punishment. Before he reached the clasp, however, his fingers stumbled across another paper, which he retrieved and upon bringing into the light, examined closely. His eyes widened in shock and his mouth hung slightly agape as he realized he was holding a slightly faded color picture of them. His father and his gang when they were mere youths not older than himself now, taken sometime before they went off to join the Zanark army for the Zanark-Aerith war. Auron Leonstrife stood, just as Zephyr remembered him, front and center in the picture, a cocky half smirk on his features. His messy sandy blond hair fell over his sparkling blue eyes, his right arm wound around his mother's waist and his left holding Punishment's gleaming blade proudly against his shoulder. Zephyr looked like an almost exact replica of his father, except for the color of his hair; whilst Auron's was a dark, sandy shade of blond, Zephyr had inherited his mother's deep chestnut coloring. Other than that, they looked almost like identical twins— a similar unruly, jagged hairstyle, the same penetrating azure gaze, identical smirks, resembling clothing styles of leather and jeans, the exact same gunblade… Yeah, the picture may have begun to fade, but it seemed to have spared Auron, like most things had. Zephyr couldn't help but instinctively glare hatefully at him.

Beside him stood Zephyr's mother, Gale Kane, cousin of Reed's father. Zephyr smiled bitterly at the sight of her younger self, the person she had been at the beginning before his father had begun spending more and more time away from home and she had become the empty shell she now was. Her long chestnut hair, the exact same shade as his own, cascaded unbound past her shoulders, a few wayward strands blown by the wind framing her face and intensifying the green of her eyes, eyes that Zephyr only remembered as dull and empty but that in the picture sparkled with mirth. For the first time, he noticed that even in the discolored photograph she did indeed have the trademark Lockheart verdant eyes, the same color as Reed's and his father's. He couldn't believe he'd never noticed before.

Cain Lockheart stood to Auron's left, towering two inches above everyone, unmistakably midnight-haired and emerald-eyed like Reed, arms arrogantly crossed over his chest, eyebrow quirked in trademark Reed flirtatious fashion, and gunblade propped casually against his leg. Headmaster Breckyn Rayn followed, hesitantly smiling at the camera, brown hair falling over his hazel eyes in the same fashion it did now. He didn't look like the harmless overstuffed teddy bear he now resembled; though he only reached Cain's shoulder, the sniper rifle he had slung over his shoulder gave him a dangerous and deadly demeanor. The Akademy rumor about his sniping antics during the war suddenly seemed believable.

On his mother's right side stood a tall blonde, blue-eyed figure that nearly made Zephyr drop the picture. He had to squint and bring the photograph closer to realize that the figure was not indeed Instructor Brendyn Blade but a woman closely resembling her, her mother without a doubt. Kerryn Blade… so the old man was the Instructor's grandfather. He briefly wondered what had become of her— Auron had been executed, Gale still lived physically, Reed's parents had both died, Breckyn Rayn had become Headmaster at the Akademy, and Decan Jecht had become president of Zanark… but what had happened to Kerryn Blade? Why did the Instructor bear her mother's name and not her father's? And why had she never mentioned a grandfather? Narrowing his eyes, Zephyr's gaze fell on the last remaining figure in the picture, the only one he couldn't recognize; a man with auburn hair and serious brown eyes that frowned in preoccupation at the camera. By elimination, he could only be Decan Jecht himself; the very President of Zanark Zephyr was to assassinate. He looked nothing like the man in the history books nor the man Zephyr had seen at the reception; age and the stress of politics and his previous term as President had taken their toll on the man, who now looked haggard and worn and older than his years.

Aurora peered over Zephyr's shoulder again, intrigued by what could have captured his attention for the past five minutes. A business card couldn't be that enthralling. She gave a startled gasp and stepped back involuntarily as her gaze fell upon the photograph he was holding, upon one figure in particular. It made no sense at all… why was her father in a picture with men that suspiciously resembled Reed and the man currently beside her?

Zephyr didn't hear Aurora's surprised gasp. His gaze was trained on his father, as if noticing something for the first time. Narrowing his eyes in concentration and squinting at the dimming photograph, he looked attentively at his father's eyes for the first time. The glare of the camera's flash was reflected in Auron's deep blue gaze, giving his eyes an almost unearthly crimson glow. Crimson… crimson… the word ran blindly through Zephyr's mind, echoing in every one of his thoughts. He knew it was important, immensely important, but couldn't pinpoint why. The eerie feeling of familiarity was inching down his back again, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. In a flash of recognition, he froze and dropped the picture. All the blood drained from his face. A lone crimson eye…

Auron Leonstrife wasn't dead. The man that had hired him to kill President Jecht was his father.

Suddenly it all made sense.

***
R&R!