Bom, bom BOM! Yesh. Anuder chappie for ya. (Woah that was kewl, an entire
sentence of pure zigzaggy, red and green lines ^^)
Thank you SO much reviewers. You make these chapters and wasted weekends totally worth it! *does a happy dance* Hey, I'm in a good mood, so don't be surprised if the main character dies or something. . .kay, maybe not, but I'm still SUPER DEE DUPER happy. So, more reviews would be nice, that is if you are. (And if you aren't already annoyed of my tea addiction ^^;;;).
Disclaimer: Honestly. If one of those Square peeps are actually taking a look at this thing, I'll eat my shoe (without salt!). *sigh* But just in case, here it is: I don't own Final Fantasy IX, all rights belong to Square.
_________ (I'll just call you the nameless entity ^^) - Thank you for the compliment! I'm glad you enjoy it, and yes, KUJA IS THE KEWLEST! ^^;;; heh heh, sorry about getting carried away. . .
shadedragon666 - Hey, I was wondering where "Connections" ended up! There just aren't enough GOOD ff8/ff7 fics to go around, and I'm glad that I relocated yours again. Oh! And I am a gal in case you were wondering (just guessing by looking at your bio page)
Rhea Chryseis - Wow *gets starry eyed expression* The person who wrote Cynical Girl Rising likes my fic! Thank you SO much (and I can't believe that I haven't reviewed your fic, it's wonderful ^^) and I hope you continue to enjoy this story.
Now, on with the show!
************************************************************************
Chapter 2:
She woke to the unfamiliar clinking of washing dishes, sweeping of a broom, and a crackling fire. But the thing she noticed first, was that though she warm.
Her eyelashes fluttered open a few times before she could focus, and her eyes seemed somewhat glued together as if she had cried herself to sleep. When the world around her steadied and cleared, she found herself wrapped in layers of thick, woolen blankets and placed right next to the fire in the large common room that served in the inn. Her head still felt light, her stomach disturbed and weak, but she noticed the symptoms were much more toned down than before.
She sat there, staring at the fire dumbly, until the clattering of dishes abruptly stopped.
"Mai, ya alraght darlin'?" a motherly voice asked as a woman appeared out of the kitchen doorway.
She was a plump lady; most likely in her late twenties by the look of it, with a round, pink face surrounding bright twinkling orbs and a stubby nose. The apron over her dress was smudged with what supposedly was food, but the expression in her movements and face were so mothering, that Maiaza couldn't help but be comforted by. However, Mai was far from the world of comfort in that moment.
"Yes," she heard herself reply in a hoarse voice "Yes, I'm fine"
The woman pulled a face as she set down the rag she was wiping her hands with, and placed her hand on her forehead. Her brows furrowed further and she just simply stated: "Like hell ya ar' darlin'"
Maiaza almost sighed, but caught herself before she could hurt herself again. She should of known better than to try and lie to Alice; the former healing student and a woman who supposedly traveled the world at the age of 19. She had met her husband Willie in some village in the Northern continent, and they quickly fell deep in love and got married at a church in another larger village. When they moved back down to Lindblum, they gathered up all the money they had, started that inn, and despite the fact that they could move out into a better area in town, they stayed there. Maiaza even heard once that they stayed because the king and queen of Alexandria had come there once, many years ago, but Mai knew that the main reason they stayed was because of their young children. They didn't want to move.
She was drug out of her thoughts when she noticed Alice pulling up her sleeve. Mai tried her best to free her arm, but failed as the older woman gasped.
"What happened to you?!"
Mai grimaced as she set her gaze upon the black and blue. It didn't really feel as bad as it looked, really! /But I'm just probably getting used to it/ she thought to herself, and mentally sighed. /The last thing I want her to know though. . ./
"I. . .um. . .fell down the stairs." She managed to get out before gasping in pain from the pressure Alice put on her arm. The odd thing was, she didn't seem sorry about it. She looked down at Mai with raised eyebrows, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get the information out of her otherwise.
"Darlin', ya an' I BOTH knaow that ain't true."
Maiaza looked back up to her stern yet mothering face, looking for any means of escape. However, Alice just sat down on a scrubbed wooden chair right next to her, and patiently waited for her to explain.
She didn't know why, or how, but as a single tear glided down her cheek, and reflected to the dancing flames, she began at the very beginning, and told Alice things that she even had trouble admitting to herself.
And it was dawn before she finished.
* * *
Snow was pretty. Maiaza never could really appreciate that before, being locked inside, disparate just for a little glimpse of the outside, through those small glass windows above the cupboard in the kitchen. Market days just weren't the same; "outside" was simply in the grease-like smoke or manure smells around little tents too smooshed together to really accomplish much. But now, as she walked along the covered, cobblestones, she understood why all of the other little girls and boys looked forward to this time of year when she was younger, it was just. . .unexplainably amazing.
The street was relatively deserted, due to the fact the plows hadn't arrived yet. But, she didn't mind really. Her abnormally long legs kept her out of most of the trouble she might have found herself in, and being able to hear the soft landings of every single icy flake seemed to calm her more about the task she was set on now by Alice.
Both Willie and Alice immediately offered her a home after fully hearing her tale, but only under one circumstance; that was if she confronted her fears. . .her parents.
So here she was, walking through the knee high snow, in pursuit of the nearest air cab station. It had just snowed for the first time that year the night before, but it was odd. It usually didn't snow at least until mid to late December, but here it was, in the middle of NOVEMBER no less. The thirteenth to be exact.
She stopped right there. /The thirteenth?/ She knew it was rather childish to actually give second thought to idiotic rumors and tales, but the fact that it was Friday the thirteenth the day she was to finally confront her parents, certainly didn't help her self-esteem. However, she acquired the strength to pull her soaking feet free, and forced her body, strictly in her destination.
The streets were becoming more and more residentially sound, and Maiaza sometimes even got a small glimpse of small children, desperately fighting their parents with whatever they could come up with, in hopes of achieving freedom to explore the unfamiliar outside. Maiaza smiled at one of the young mothers in pity, and the blonde-eyed woman managed an apologetic smile in return, as she tried to comfort her screaming son. Then, their door abruptly slammed shut, causing the snow on top of the roof to flutter down from the impact.
Maiazas smile turned sad, and somewhat ironic. That little boy didn't know how lucky he was to have someone who actually cared. Unlike herself.
/But,/ she reminded herself /that woman might just be like that outside, when someone is actually watching her. I doubt it though./ The Striners never cared if someone was watching them, so why should she have? She was pretty, respected, and married, wasn't that what girls always wanted in their life? Well, Maiaza wasn't sure if that was she wanted, but like everyone always told her, she was different.
Without really thinking about where she was heading, she boarded the small air cab, choosing a seat in the back row. But, that didn't really turn out to matter since she was the only one riding it at that time. The trip to the industrial district was rather short and uneventful; the drivers and crew always seemed disinclined to talk to anyone outside of their small and squirrelly numbers, so Maiaza didn't try to convince them otherwise.
When she emerged from the public transportation device, she gave them her two gil fee, and wrinkled her nose in disgust from the familiar factory air. The snow here was more slushy and muddy from the people around it. The plow had evidently cleared through this area already, and people walked quickly yet distantly with their shadowed and sullen faces not giving away anything.
She carefully walked down the street, making sure not to disturb anyone that might take offence. She coughed once, but it was just a shadow compared to what she felt a few nights prior. Alice healed her as best she could, but her sickness still wasn't completely dissolved. Maiaza was only glad that it had improved.
Her steps became more and more heavy and deliberate as she neared her home. No, not home, ~prior residence~ would be more truthful. And with every step, she felt less and less sure of herself. Sure, both Alice and Willie had comforted her as best they could; telling her to never actually go inside of the house, and to deepen her voice a bit to give the impression of a more mature age, but what was so important before seemed useless then.
Then, she came upon the Striner house.
Maiaza stopped dead, feeling a bit of the blood drain out of her pointed face. Shadowed, and swimming in the illusion of safety, it stood there. Her legs almost took her away from that dreadful place, but she somehow managed to stay where she was. She gripped her old woolen cloak a little closer to her, but was unable to warm the cold, empty feeling in her mind.
She raised her head, finding the overcast sky comforting. And with the combination of snowflakes fluttering and spinning around her like a dizzy dream. It all ended too soon after the minute of sky-gazing, she brought her newly brushed head down, her mouth set in a thin line of grim determination. As she advanced toward the plain and practical wooden door, it felt to her as if a tight metal suit had been wrapped around her body, and forcing her to walk. Though Maiaza was glad for it, even if it wasn't anything special; just her mind.
Her bony hand rapped sharply on the door before she could think twice, and she winced a bit at her straightforward action. It was late morning on Friday, what mood would they be in today? But something odd happened.
Nothing happened.
Her eyebrows furrowed and raised. /What on earth. . .?/ She knew for sure that they always answered a call at the door unless they were busy. And by order of religion, Fridays were always off. She tried again, thinking perhaps they didn't hear her the first time, but after a few minutes worth of snowflakes on her shoulders, she gave up on that thought. Maybe they weren't there. . .
With that as her last thought, she had made her decision. She fumbled a little from her numb hands, then grabbed the bronze knob and pushed her way in.
Usually, being inside would be warmer than out at this time of year, but, the world was much the same inside. This surprised Maiaza, knowing that even though she worked the most on that house, the Striners were quite capable of at least making a simple fire! However, icicles (that she knew weren't fake) pointed down from the oak banister, and frost glittered from the little light given through the open doorway. She took a few steps in, her confusion growing. Her brown head turned to look around her, and it was all the same. And combined with memories, it seemed even colder and more unbearable than the outside.
Maiaza now concluded that they weren't there, so feeling a bit more adventurous, she decided to explore the cause of this odd appearance. Her feet shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen. They echoed with an almost ethereal quality, and she was a bit at ease with how loud it suddenly seemed. When she entered the small room, her face became even more reflective of her thoughts. The small window, was open all of the way, as if it was a warm sunny day (which it was most certainly not). A slight breeze didn't ruffle the curtains as it normally would, for it was frozen, and sparkled just like the rest of the house. Maiaza closed the window, absently trying to free her mind of the questions that popped in. She scanned the kitchen with her eyes, searching for a piece of paper, or anything to write with. Then, she could write a confession for them to see, but with no chance of getting hurt! Then she could leave, and never come back.
Her determination renewed, she walked back to the hallway, remembering that there was always extra paper somewhere upstairs. But with the absence of light, the stairway looked as though it were some sick idea of a "path to hell".
"Note and I'll be gone, note and I'll be gone. . ." she muttered repeatedly under her breath, and clamping her eyelids down tightly for a second, to clear her mind. She slowly raised a soft-soled foot up to the first step, finding it easier with every one. Though, again, the floor under her seemed to creak with amazing volume, and she couldn't help but nervously glance everywhere, as if a strange ghoul would suddenly come out and grab her. But nothing came on the stairs, it was what awaited her at the top.
The white bodies of her parents and brothers laid there in an untidy pile at the top, in a dried pool of brown blood. The horrible, lifeless gaze of her mother's upside-down eyes seemed to stare at her. And if that wasn't enough, standing and towering over the pile was. . .
/The shadow hunter. . .emotionless. . ./
Maiaza's thoughts ran through the mysterious poem in which was supposedly scribbled out in a suicide note of one of the greatest poets of all time. Disbelief was written all over her white face and her brown eyes bulged slightly, and did not blink. She felt as if her entire body was made of cheap wax, and was quickly melting into a puddle on the floor. Her eyes closed gently, wishing this was all some mistake, a ridiculous figment of her already overactive imagination. But when they opened again, the image remained the same. The obvious death of her family was nothing compared to the heartless. . .~thing~ standing over them.
A tall figure stood there, covered completely in a dark violet cloak that brushed the floor. Two gloved and buckled hands were caressing a wicked looking dagger, before the thing's hidden head rose to examine the girl who mistakenly stumbled into its presence.
/The night rose/
That's what they called it, the people of Lindblum that is. No one knew what it called itself, or the true identity of the terror, but everyone knew what someone was talking about when they heard the title. She had seen some. A sharp intake of breath, a hateful expression, and an averting of all eyes to anyone within range. And that was just the reaction to a simple name.
Maiaza's mind became seemingly more alert and her body staying so still she barely breathed. The two figures stood, staring intently at one another. Then, an unexpected jerk of the thing's head, caused her to jump slightly in a mix of surprise an utter confusion. It took three long and rushed steps to the nearby window, jerkily opened it, and jumped out into the white.
She let out a deep breath that she wasn't aware of holding in relief. Maiaza took a moment of beloved, relaxed bliss. But the day's surprises weren't done with yet.
"My my my, why do they always prefer the more dramatic exits?"
Maiaza whirled around, feeling her face muscles and shoulders tense considerably. She then faced a boy; he looked a little older than her. But he was just. . .she supposed, more mature, grew up fast by the look of his flaming-red pony-tail, wire glasses and deep, gritty voice. His sapphire eyes were glittering with amusement, and a smirk was planted on his face. She didn't feel quite as frightened as she did about the Night Rose, but it was still rather unnerving to see a complete stranger in your house, which just looked like it had been the proud host of a serial-murder lately. The boy-no, ~man~ didn't seem to notice this however.
After a few unnecessarily long moments, Maiaza seemed to get the hint that she should say something in response. So, finding it was most appropriate, she spoke the first thing that came to her mind.
"Who are you, and why are you in my house?"
His smirk narrowed slightly and his unwavering gaze fell back upon her. "I don't know."
Maiaza's eyebrows raised in question, but decided that she should drop the subject. This man didn't look like the nicest person in the world, with his visible daggers and other weapons sticking out, and most likely had more hidden somewhere. It was certainly not her place to make him feel in any way uncomfortable.
"Do you know that. . .thing?" she finally asked.
For some reason, he let out a soft chuckle, and shook his head. Mai felt a slight surge of anger, thinking he was just taunting her.
"Not personally." He answered, then, his smirk turned into an ironic grin. "Of course, no one really ~knows~ if they know 'it' or not, now do they?"
Her eyes traced the boards on the floor, somehow feeling a bit embarrassed. She wished he would just leave her alone, but surprisingly, he spoke up again.
"Now you. . .why are you here?"
She looked back up, angrily. "These happen to be my parents right here!" her head jutted in their direction.
Only one eyebrow rose now. "Oh? Then perhaps you can elaborate on how they came to their demise?"
Maiaza bit her lip, feeling somehow lost, and quite alone. "I don't know." She said quietly.
"That's too bad." She noticed that he really looked disappointed, and quite weary to tell the truth.
His abrupt change to a more vulnerable, and sad person left her feeling a bit guilty, so before she could stop herself, she spoke back again.
"I'm sorry I can't help."
He smiled a bit at her, and shook his head. "No, don't be sorry. It must be you who's in need of comforting if these are indeed your family."
"N-no," she said a bit too hastily. "I. . .well, they weren't really like parents to me. . .really."
"I see." He turned toward the bodies with a hateful look on his face. "Was it abuse then?"
Her face blushed just a bit, and she looked back at her feet. "I'd rather not talk about it."
The man's eyes reflected the pity she could not see. There were so many like her, that could do so many great things if they were just given a chance. When he was younger, he remembered visiting little "homes" for those who were abused a few times too many. For as long as he lived, he knew he would never be able to forget their horror-struck faces and mutterings of nonsense under their breath, for as long as he lived.
/There just ~has~ to be something to do!/ He thought angrily to himself as she plopped down on the hard floor, all dignity conveniently located somewhere safe for that time being. She buried her tear-struck face in her hands, and sobbed.
"Whatever you should do now, you should at least get out of Lindblum. People will come looking for your, ah, father. And with a teenage girl the only one present when they come, there's bound to be a situation."
She nodded in dark understanding. He envied her way in which she seemed to cry without making a sound, and he could tell somehow that she was serious in her hopelessness.
"I don't h-have anywhere to go." She stated in a quiet, forced, yet still trembling voice. Her head still was down in her hands.
He stared at her. The man knew that he always had it easy in life compared to someone like her; he had wealthy and loving parents, who actually went against him becoming a bounty hunter like them. And even now, as he was already well into a successful career, they loved him, and still could stand to be seen with him in public. Heck, there was even that strange guy who gave him the HG4 cruise tickets free two weeks before. . .wait!
/That's it/
He whipped out the ticket from his cloak hurriedly, and held it out to her. "Take it."
Her head raised slightly to look, but she fell back in surprise at reading the bold black letters.
"No, no. . .I couldn't accept that! It must have cost a fortune!"
He shook his head. Well, I'm never going to use it, you should enjoy it I think. I went on last year's. . ."
What he didn't mention was the fact that he had been on one every year prior to that one. His parents were off somewhere else, so they couldn't go for the next one. He wasn't going to attend this year's for that reason, but he never got around to actually ridding himself of the ticket, but this worked out nicely.
She was gaping at him. It was unbelievable for her to have this kind of incredible luck.
"W-why?" she managed to stammer out.
"Because now, hopefully, I won't get drug into more volunteer work this year." His smirk was back now, with no evidence apparent of what came before. She looked back down at the ticket again, and didn't look up when she heard and felt a pouch of gil deposited at her side.
"Buy some new clothes." She heard him order. She looked up again.
"Thank you."
But he was gone. There was only a shadowed and empty office visible from where he was before.
She sighed a bit, only then blushing a little at how dependent she now was on his given generosity. Only now did she actually consider the cruise, however. After all, she didn't really need to stay at the house, and she could just go back to the inn. . .
"No." She said to herself firmly. If they really considered her a suspect for murder, she didn't want Alice, Willie or their children caught up in this. It was her responsibility to follow through with whatever came next; no one else's.
She turned back to the bodies of the family she wish she had. For some reason, it didn't seem too sad for her. She was only slightly nauseous at the appearance.
And frankly, it scared her how heartless that seemed.
Maiaza forced determination into her movements, walked down the stairs, opened the creaky door at its foot, and closed it carefully. Luckily no snow came down from the covered roof. Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed at realization and reflection.
/Time to go shopping./
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Sheesh, that took a LONG time. Sorry if the ending kinda sounded a bit rushed, and Mai didn't wallop in self pity for 5 pages, but I haven't even got into the real plot yet. Oh well. Now for excuses:
This chapter has almost the same amount of words in it as the last two combined.
When I got about halfway through, I read back over it and discovered to my horror that it was complete and utter junk.
School has officially begun.
So now, you should at least have a little taste of my habits for the past month. I dunno when the next one shall magically appear, but hopefully it won't take quite as long. It's also like, 6 in the morning and I haven't really had my tea yet, so excuse me if I sound a tad bit smarter and more mature. Thank you for reading, and hope you have a nice day.
(And don't forget to review!)
Toodles.
Giggle
Thank you SO much reviewers. You make these chapters and wasted weekends totally worth it! *does a happy dance* Hey, I'm in a good mood, so don't be surprised if the main character dies or something. . .kay, maybe not, but I'm still SUPER DEE DUPER happy. So, more reviews would be nice, that is if you are. (And if you aren't already annoyed of my tea addiction ^^;;;).
Disclaimer: Honestly. If one of those Square peeps are actually taking a look at this thing, I'll eat my shoe (without salt!). *sigh* But just in case, here it is: I don't own Final Fantasy IX, all rights belong to Square.
_________ (I'll just call you the nameless entity ^^) - Thank you for the compliment! I'm glad you enjoy it, and yes, KUJA IS THE KEWLEST! ^^;;; heh heh, sorry about getting carried away. . .
shadedragon666 - Hey, I was wondering where "Connections" ended up! There just aren't enough GOOD ff8/ff7 fics to go around, and I'm glad that I relocated yours again. Oh! And I am a gal in case you were wondering (just guessing by looking at your bio page)
Rhea Chryseis - Wow *gets starry eyed expression* The person who wrote Cynical Girl Rising likes my fic! Thank you SO much (and I can't believe that I haven't reviewed your fic, it's wonderful ^^) and I hope you continue to enjoy this story.
Now, on with the show!
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Chapter 2:
She woke to the unfamiliar clinking of washing dishes, sweeping of a broom, and a crackling fire. But the thing she noticed first, was that though she warm.
Her eyelashes fluttered open a few times before she could focus, and her eyes seemed somewhat glued together as if she had cried herself to sleep. When the world around her steadied and cleared, she found herself wrapped in layers of thick, woolen blankets and placed right next to the fire in the large common room that served in the inn. Her head still felt light, her stomach disturbed and weak, but she noticed the symptoms were much more toned down than before.
She sat there, staring at the fire dumbly, until the clattering of dishes abruptly stopped.
"Mai, ya alraght darlin'?" a motherly voice asked as a woman appeared out of the kitchen doorway.
She was a plump lady; most likely in her late twenties by the look of it, with a round, pink face surrounding bright twinkling orbs and a stubby nose. The apron over her dress was smudged with what supposedly was food, but the expression in her movements and face were so mothering, that Maiaza couldn't help but be comforted by. However, Mai was far from the world of comfort in that moment.
"Yes," she heard herself reply in a hoarse voice "Yes, I'm fine"
The woman pulled a face as she set down the rag she was wiping her hands with, and placed her hand on her forehead. Her brows furrowed further and she just simply stated: "Like hell ya ar' darlin'"
Maiaza almost sighed, but caught herself before she could hurt herself again. She should of known better than to try and lie to Alice; the former healing student and a woman who supposedly traveled the world at the age of 19. She had met her husband Willie in some village in the Northern continent, and they quickly fell deep in love and got married at a church in another larger village. When they moved back down to Lindblum, they gathered up all the money they had, started that inn, and despite the fact that they could move out into a better area in town, they stayed there. Maiaza even heard once that they stayed because the king and queen of Alexandria had come there once, many years ago, but Mai knew that the main reason they stayed was because of their young children. They didn't want to move.
She was drug out of her thoughts when she noticed Alice pulling up her sleeve. Mai tried her best to free her arm, but failed as the older woman gasped.
"What happened to you?!"
Mai grimaced as she set her gaze upon the black and blue. It didn't really feel as bad as it looked, really! /But I'm just probably getting used to it/ she thought to herself, and mentally sighed. /The last thing I want her to know though. . ./
"I. . .um. . .fell down the stairs." She managed to get out before gasping in pain from the pressure Alice put on her arm. The odd thing was, she didn't seem sorry about it. She looked down at Mai with raised eyebrows, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get the information out of her otherwise.
"Darlin', ya an' I BOTH knaow that ain't true."
Maiaza looked back up to her stern yet mothering face, looking for any means of escape. However, Alice just sat down on a scrubbed wooden chair right next to her, and patiently waited for her to explain.
She didn't know why, or how, but as a single tear glided down her cheek, and reflected to the dancing flames, she began at the very beginning, and told Alice things that she even had trouble admitting to herself.
And it was dawn before she finished.
* * *
Snow was pretty. Maiaza never could really appreciate that before, being locked inside, disparate just for a little glimpse of the outside, through those small glass windows above the cupboard in the kitchen. Market days just weren't the same; "outside" was simply in the grease-like smoke or manure smells around little tents too smooshed together to really accomplish much. But now, as she walked along the covered, cobblestones, she understood why all of the other little girls and boys looked forward to this time of year when she was younger, it was just. . .unexplainably amazing.
The street was relatively deserted, due to the fact the plows hadn't arrived yet. But, she didn't mind really. Her abnormally long legs kept her out of most of the trouble she might have found herself in, and being able to hear the soft landings of every single icy flake seemed to calm her more about the task she was set on now by Alice.
Both Willie and Alice immediately offered her a home after fully hearing her tale, but only under one circumstance; that was if she confronted her fears. . .her parents.
So here she was, walking through the knee high snow, in pursuit of the nearest air cab station. It had just snowed for the first time that year the night before, but it was odd. It usually didn't snow at least until mid to late December, but here it was, in the middle of NOVEMBER no less. The thirteenth to be exact.
She stopped right there. /The thirteenth?/ She knew it was rather childish to actually give second thought to idiotic rumors and tales, but the fact that it was Friday the thirteenth the day she was to finally confront her parents, certainly didn't help her self-esteem. However, she acquired the strength to pull her soaking feet free, and forced her body, strictly in her destination.
The streets were becoming more and more residentially sound, and Maiaza sometimes even got a small glimpse of small children, desperately fighting their parents with whatever they could come up with, in hopes of achieving freedom to explore the unfamiliar outside. Maiaza smiled at one of the young mothers in pity, and the blonde-eyed woman managed an apologetic smile in return, as she tried to comfort her screaming son. Then, their door abruptly slammed shut, causing the snow on top of the roof to flutter down from the impact.
Maiazas smile turned sad, and somewhat ironic. That little boy didn't know how lucky he was to have someone who actually cared. Unlike herself.
/But,/ she reminded herself /that woman might just be like that outside, when someone is actually watching her. I doubt it though./ The Striners never cared if someone was watching them, so why should she have? She was pretty, respected, and married, wasn't that what girls always wanted in their life? Well, Maiaza wasn't sure if that was she wanted, but like everyone always told her, she was different.
Without really thinking about where she was heading, she boarded the small air cab, choosing a seat in the back row. But, that didn't really turn out to matter since she was the only one riding it at that time. The trip to the industrial district was rather short and uneventful; the drivers and crew always seemed disinclined to talk to anyone outside of their small and squirrelly numbers, so Maiaza didn't try to convince them otherwise.
When she emerged from the public transportation device, she gave them her two gil fee, and wrinkled her nose in disgust from the familiar factory air. The snow here was more slushy and muddy from the people around it. The plow had evidently cleared through this area already, and people walked quickly yet distantly with their shadowed and sullen faces not giving away anything.
She carefully walked down the street, making sure not to disturb anyone that might take offence. She coughed once, but it was just a shadow compared to what she felt a few nights prior. Alice healed her as best she could, but her sickness still wasn't completely dissolved. Maiaza was only glad that it had improved.
Her steps became more and more heavy and deliberate as she neared her home. No, not home, ~prior residence~ would be more truthful. And with every step, she felt less and less sure of herself. Sure, both Alice and Willie had comforted her as best they could; telling her to never actually go inside of the house, and to deepen her voice a bit to give the impression of a more mature age, but what was so important before seemed useless then.
Then, she came upon the Striner house.
Maiaza stopped dead, feeling a bit of the blood drain out of her pointed face. Shadowed, and swimming in the illusion of safety, it stood there. Her legs almost took her away from that dreadful place, but she somehow managed to stay where she was. She gripped her old woolen cloak a little closer to her, but was unable to warm the cold, empty feeling in her mind.
She raised her head, finding the overcast sky comforting. And with the combination of snowflakes fluttering and spinning around her like a dizzy dream. It all ended too soon after the minute of sky-gazing, she brought her newly brushed head down, her mouth set in a thin line of grim determination. As she advanced toward the plain and practical wooden door, it felt to her as if a tight metal suit had been wrapped around her body, and forcing her to walk. Though Maiaza was glad for it, even if it wasn't anything special; just her mind.
Her bony hand rapped sharply on the door before she could think twice, and she winced a bit at her straightforward action. It was late morning on Friday, what mood would they be in today? But something odd happened.
Nothing happened.
Her eyebrows furrowed and raised. /What on earth. . .?/ She knew for sure that they always answered a call at the door unless they were busy. And by order of religion, Fridays were always off. She tried again, thinking perhaps they didn't hear her the first time, but after a few minutes worth of snowflakes on her shoulders, she gave up on that thought. Maybe they weren't there. . .
With that as her last thought, she had made her decision. She fumbled a little from her numb hands, then grabbed the bronze knob and pushed her way in.
Usually, being inside would be warmer than out at this time of year, but, the world was much the same inside. This surprised Maiaza, knowing that even though she worked the most on that house, the Striners were quite capable of at least making a simple fire! However, icicles (that she knew weren't fake) pointed down from the oak banister, and frost glittered from the little light given through the open doorway. She took a few steps in, her confusion growing. Her brown head turned to look around her, and it was all the same. And combined with memories, it seemed even colder and more unbearable than the outside.
Maiaza now concluded that they weren't there, so feeling a bit more adventurous, she decided to explore the cause of this odd appearance. Her feet shuffled down the hallway to the kitchen. They echoed with an almost ethereal quality, and she was a bit at ease with how loud it suddenly seemed. When she entered the small room, her face became even more reflective of her thoughts. The small window, was open all of the way, as if it was a warm sunny day (which it was most certainly not). A slight breeze didn't ruffle the curtains as it normally would, for it was frozen, and sparkled just like the rest of the house. Maiaza closed the window, absently trying to free her mind of the questions that popped in. She scanned the kitchen with her eyes, searching for a piece of paper, or anything to write with. Then, she could write a confession for them to see, but with no chance of getting hurt! Then she could leave, and never come back.
Her determination renewed, she walked back to the hallway, remembering that there was always extra paper somewhere upstairs. But with the absence of light, the stairway looked as though it were some sick idea of a "path to hell".
"Note and I'll be gone, note and I'll be gone. . ." she muttered repeatedly under her breath, and clamping her eyelids down tightly for a second, to clear her mind. She slowly raised a soft-soled foot up to the first step, finding it easier with every one. Though, again, the floor under her seemed to creak with amazing volume, and she couldn't help but nervously glance everywhere, as if a strange ghoul would suddenly come out and grab her. But nothing came on the stairs, it was what awaited her at the top.
The white bodies of her parents and brothers laid there in an untidy pile at the top, in a dried pool of brown blood. The horrible, lifeless gaze of her mother's upside-down eyes seemed to stare at her. And if that wasn't enough, standing and towering over the pile was. . .
/The shadow hunter. . .emotionless. . ./
Maiaza's thoughts ran through the mysterious poem in which was supposedly scribbled out in a suicide note of one of the greatest poets of all time. Disbelief was written all over her white face and her brown eyes bulged slightly, and did not blink. She felt as if her entire body was made of cheap wax, and was quickly melting into a puddle on the floor. Her eyes closed gently, wishing this was all some mistake, a ridiculous figment of her already overactive imagination. But when they opened again, the image remained the same. The obvious death of her family was nothing compared to the heartless. . .~thing~ standing over them.
A tall figure stood there, covered completely in a dark violet cloak that brushed the floor. Two gloved and buckled hands were caressing a wicked looking dagger, before the thing's hidden head rose to examine the girl who mistakenly stumbled into its presence.
/The night rose/
That's what they called it, the people of Lindblum that is. No one knew what it called itself, or the true identity of the terror, but everyone knew what someone was talking about when they heard the title. She had seen some. A sharp intake of breath, a hateful expression, and an averting of all eyes to anyone within range. And that was just the reaction to a simple name.
Maiaza's mind became seemingly more alert and her body staying so still she barely breathed. The two figures stood, staring intently at one another. Then, an unexpected jerk of the thing's head, caused her to jump slightly in a mix of surprise an utter confusion. It took three long and rushed steps to the nearby window, jerkily opened it, and jumped out into the white.
She let out a deep breath that she wasn't aware of holding in relief. Maiaza took a moment of beloved, relaxed bliss. But the day's surprises weren't done with yet.
"My my my, why do they always prefer the more dramatic exits?"
Maiaza whirled around, feeling her face muscles and shoulders tense considerably. She then faced a boy; he looked a little older than her. But he was just. . .she supposed, more mature, grew up fast by the look of his flaming-red pony-tail, wire glasses and deep, gritty voice. His sapphire eyes were glittering with amusement, and a smirk was planted on his face. She didn't feel quite as frightened as she did about the Night Rose, but it was still rather unnerving to see a complete stranger in your house, which just looked like it had been the proud host of a serial-murder lately. The boy-no, ~man~ didn't seem to notice this however.
After a few unnecessarily long moments, Maiaza seemed to get the hint that she should say something in response. So, finding it was most appropriate, she spoke the first thing that came to her mind.
"Who are you, and why are you in my house?"
His smirk narrowed slightly and his unwavering gaze fell back upon her. "I don't know."
Maiaza's eyebrows raised in question, but decided that she should drop the subject. This man didn't look like the nicest person in the world, with his visible daggers and other weapons sticking out, and most likely had more hidden somewhere. It was certainly not her place to make him feel in any way uncomfortable.
"Do you know that. . .thing?" she finally asked.
For some reason, he let out a soft chuckle, and shook his head. Mai felt a slight surge of anger, thinking he was just taunting her.
"Not personally." He answered, then, his smirk turned into an ironic grin. "Of course, no one really ~knows~ if they know 'it' or not, now do they?"
Her eyes traced the boards on the floor, somehow feeling a bit embarrassed. She wished he would just leave her alone, but surprisingly, he spoke up again.
"Now you. . .why are you here?"
She looked back up, angrily. "These happen to be my parents right here!" her head jutted in their direction.
Only one eyebrow rose now. "Oh? Then perhaps you can elaborate on how they came to their demise?"
Maiaza bit her lip, feeling somehow lost, and quite alone. "I don't know." She said quietly.
"That's too bad." She noticed that he really looked disappointed, and quite weary to tell the truth.
His abrupt change to a more vulnerable, and sad person left her feeling a bit guilty, so before she could stop herself, she spoke back again.
"I'm sorry I can't help."
He smiled a bit at her, and shook his head. "No, don't be sorry. It must be you who's in need of comforting if these are indeed your family."
"N-no," she said a bit too hastily. "I. . .well, they weren't really like parents to me. . .really."
"I see." He turned toward the bodies with a hateful look on his face. "Was it abuse then?"
Her face blushed just a bit, and she looked back at her feet. "I'd rather not talk about it."
The man's eyes reflected the pity she could not see. There were so many like her, that could do so many great things if they were just given a chance. When he was younger, he remembered visiting little "homes" for those who were abused a few times too many. For as long as he lived, he knew he would never be able to forget their horror-struck faces and mutterings of nonsense under their breath, for as long as he lived.
/There just ~has~ to be something to do!/ He thought angrily to himself as she plopped down on the hard floor, all dignity conveniently located somewhere safe for that time being. She buried her tear-struck face in her hands, and sobbed.
"Whatever you should do now, you should at least get out of Lindblum. People will come looking for your, ah, father. And with a teenage girl the only one present when they come, there's bound to be a situation."
She nodded in dark understanding. He envied her way in which she seemed to cry without making a sound, and he could tell somehow that she was serious in her hopelessness.
"I don't h-have anywhere to go." She stated in a quiet, forced, yet still trembling voice. Her head still was down in her hands.
He stared at her. The man knew that he always had it easy in life compared to someone like her; he had wealthy and loving parents, who actually went against him becoming a bounty hunter like them. And even now, as he was already well into a successful career, they loved him, and still could stand to be seen with him in public. Heck, there was even that strange guy who gave him the HG4 cruise tickets free two weeks before. . .wait!
/That's it/
He whipped out the ticket from his cloak hurriedly, and held it out to her. "Take it."
Her head raised slightly to look, but she fell back in surprise at reading the bold black letters.
"No, no. . .I couldn't accept that! It must have cost a fortune!"
He shook his head. Well, I'm never going to use it, you should enjoy it I think. I went on last year's. . ."
What he didn't mention was the fact that he had been on one every year prior to that one. His parents were off somewhere else, so they couldn't go for the next one. He wasn't going to attend this year's for that reason, but he never got around to actually ridding himself of the ticket, but this worked out nicely.
She was gaping at him. It was unbelievable for her to have this kind of incredible luck.
"W-why?" she managed to stammer out.
"Because now, hopefully, I won't get drug into more volunteer work this year." His smirk was back now, with no evidence apparent of what came before. She looked back down at the ticket again, and didn't look up when she heard and felt a pouch of gil deposited at her side.
"Buy some new clothes." She heard him order. She looked up again.
"Thank you."
But he was gone. There was only a shadowed and empty office visible from where he was before.
She sighed a bit, only then blushing a little at how dependent she now was on his given generosity. Only now did she actually consider the cruise, however. After all, she didn't really need to stay at the house, and she could just go back to the inn. . .
"No." She said to herself firmly. If they really considered her a suspect for murder, she didn't want Alice, Willie or their children caught up in this. It was her responsibility to follow through with whatever came next; no one else's.
She turned back to the bodies of the family she wish she had. For some reason, it didn't seem too sad for her. She was only slightly nauseous at the appearance.
And frankly, it scared her how heartless that seemed.
Maiaza forced determination into her movements, walked down the stairs, opened the creaky door at its foot, and closed it carefully. Luckily no snow came down from the covered roof. Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed at realization and reflection.
/Time to go shopping./
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Sheesh, that took a LONG time. Sorry if the ending kinda sounded a bit rushed, and Mai didn't wallop in self pity for 5 pages, but I haven't even got into the real plot yet. Oh well. Now for excuses:
This chapter has almost the same amount of words in it as the last two combined.
When I got about halfway through, I read back over it and discovered to my horror that it was complete and utter junk.
School has officially begun.
So now, you should at least have a little taste of my habits for the past month. I dunno when the next one shall magically appear, but hopefully it won't take quite as long. It's also like, 6 in the morning and I haven't really had my tea yet, so excuse me if I sound a tad bit smarter and more mature. Thank you for reading, and hope you have a nice day.
(And don't forget to review!)
Toodles.
Giggle