Reclaim Destiny
-A tribute to the fallen Dragon Slayers and their lord Dilandau-
By: SoulStealer
Disclaimer: I don't own Esca.
A/N: THANK YOU!
I was starting to get bummed about the reviews when all of a sudden I got a bunch. ^_^ Yes, you've made my day! Thakies!
BTW, please tell me if Sage is a Mary Sue, according to D6rk N3cr0phia she is… I don't think so though… Also, I'm going to apologize in advance for chapter seven. There's WILL be a few deaths in the 'Slayers ranks. I'm sorry…
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Chapter Three
"The Planning"Footsteps echoed as someone walked toward her holding cell. "Weird," thought the prisoner, "I never have guests… of any kind." Opening a lazy eye she watched the figure approached at a slow jog. The sound of keys jingled along with his steps. "Come to kill me already, Boris?" She asked only half her vision on the approaching man. "I thought I had another fifty-seven years left." She felt a small smile tugging at her lips, finally a way out of this rotting hellhole.
"Kill you?"
The voice wasn't Boris' it was younger. She could have sworn she heard it before.
"Why would I kill you?"
Now he had her attention. She turned her head and glanced at the younger man she had seen earlier. He was holding the keys to the cells, squinting into the darkness she sat in. Slowly she moved into the light part of the cell.
"Why are you here?"
He was now trying to unlock the door to her cell. Why? There was a click and the lock came off.
"You don't deserve to die in here," he frowned; the cell door didn't open as he tugged. She noticed this and snorted, three years without one opening had doubtless rusted it.
"Probably jammed… Here."
Bracing herself on one side of the door she pushed while he pulled. The door didn't moved for a second then it began to creak. In another second it flew open sending him against another cell door. She stumbled forward, her shoulder and his colliding for a split second.
Suddenly she dropped to her knees in a coughing fit, holding he neck like she had been choked. Above her, he looked down unsure of what to do.
"Are you alright, Miss?"
"Fine," she said trying vainly to recover, "Just dust." She pulled herself into a standing position with the help of the cell's bars. "You'd better go. I don't know how you go those keys by you defiantly weren't supposed to break me out."
He turned and then stopped. "Will you be aright, Miss…?"
"Sage, call me Sage," she said. "… Thanks for breaking me out and all, it's nice to know not all the people here are complete bastards." Her eyes drifted away from his for a second. "And… just get out of here as fast as you can…"
With that said, Sage turned and began to run down the opposite corridor. Her mind racing along with her as dark images flashed in frount of her eyes. "Oh, God," she whispered, "He's going to die…"
***
Pain was running up her ankle as she inspected it. It was injured… somehow. Sage had no idea about bones and any medical treatment for them. Though once her friend had sprained her ankle. It was best not to put to much pressure on it, her friend had said, something about crushing it. She winced at the memory of herself half dragging and half caring her unconscious savior, which definitely wasn't good for the ankle.
From across the dimly light area she heard a soft moan. Sage turned her attention to the now-conscious youth across the room from her. He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position on the old divan he'd been lying on. A puzzled look crossed his face and he squinted in the ominous light.
"Why's is so damn dark in here?" He asked in a half irritated, half afraid voice.
"Sorry," Sage shrugged, "but the light hurts my eyes. Anyway, it would be more suspicious if a light were shinning from an abandon building, the guards would be swarming in here already."
He recognized her rough voice from the prison. After all, not many people had a voice like her's… then again, not many people were accused of killing a queen.
"Sage?" the word was odd, coming from another's mouth, to the girl. After all no one in the prisons had called her by her real name. She was silent then answered.
"Yeah, that's me," she had planned on saying something else but instead she asked, "What's your name?"
"Miguel Labariel," came the answer from across the room. This was followed by a long silence. Neither of the occupants seemed to know what to say. Miguel had sat up and was now studding his wound. He ripped a piece of the shirt under his uniform off and bandaged the gash, while Sage dug through a duffle bag.
"Got any food?" Miguel asked after a length.
Sage shook her head. "The guards would have spotted me. I'll go get something tonight…" She let the sentence hang. Then, Sage stood and limped over to the closed window. She opened it a few inches letting some sunlight pour through, illuminating more of the old room. Outside something passed through the air sending a shadow into the room.
"How did I get here anyway?" Miguel asked. "The last thing I remember was… Was that you in the alley?"
"The one and only," Sage said returning to the chair in the darker corner of the room. "You're friend was pretty tough but not tough enough for my good ol' duffle bag," she said it half jokingly. "You're a helluva lot heavier than you look, did you know that?"
"You…carried me?" Miguel asked, after all she was just a girl. "With that?" he pointed to her swollen ankle.
Sage smirked. "Actually it was more like I dragged you… Sorry."
"It's fine," He said. No wonder he was so sore. "What happened to you anyway?" He looked as her ankle.
"I jumped out a window," she shrugged it off. "I guess I landed on it wrong or something."
"Let me see it…"
"It's fine," she insisted. Her back turned to him. "You're wounds are probably worse."
Miguel shook his head. "The bleeding's stopped. I'll be fine if it doesn't become infected. You probably sprained an ankle."
"Fine," Sage said grumpily. She stood up and moved to sit next to him on the divan. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around the unharmed one, while her injured leg was free.
Miguel ran his hand over her swollen shin, glancing up to see if she showed any signs of pain. Her face concealed all and he dark eyes didn't waver either.
He found himself confused by a girl like this. Nothing, he had no feelings for her; pity, gratitude, and a fragment of admiration for her spirit maybe, but nothing else. It wasn't that she was hideous, she wasn't; but nor was she beautiful. Her pale face and dark hungry eyes reminded him of fox. It wasn't that she resembled one, her pale face contrasting with her deep brown hair made her look like something other than a vixen. Her cloths were hanging of her baggily, giving her a grungy look. She was shoeless; her shoes by her duffle, with one pant leg rolled to the knee.
"Congratulations," Miguel said sarcastically. "You've managed to pop it out of place. I can probably get it back in, but it's gonna hurt."
Sage blinked, "How do you know?"
"It was in my training, we had to know how to treat injuries," at her perplexed look he added. "I'm a soldier in Zaibach."
"Oh."
That wasn't the response he'd expected. Most people disliked Zaibach more than any other country. Thankfully she didn't seem to care.
"Hurry up and pop it in," Sage grumbled and Miguel nodded.
"Thins is going to hurt…"
"So you've said."
"One three… three, two, one."
Sage dropped her head immediately as Miguel applied pressure to her ankle. There was a crackling popping sound and it was quickly over. Sage kept her head bent, whether she was crying or not, Miguel couldn't see. Suddenly she through her head back, her teeth barred in pain.
"Damn," she whispered weakly. "You weren't kidding, were you?"
He nodded, smiling slightly. Atleast she hadn't cried, women in hysterics weren't one of his good points. That was something Dallet could ace… speaking of Dallet…
"I need to get back to my ship," he said quietly.
Sage shrugged. "I'm sorry I have no idea…" She stood up and walked to the window, testing out hr ankle. Outside another shadow passed sending a spit second of darkness through out the room.
"Don't be," Miguel grinned. "I have an idea. I just have to get a glider…"
"You mean those flying things?" sage pointed out the window. "You can fly one?"
"Yes and sort of," Miguel shrugged. "I pilot one of the top Guymelefs in the world, couldn't be that hard."
Sage grinned and rolled her eyes. "Famous last worlds."
