AN: Thanks again to Flarn for Beta reading, and to Cyn for the "nudge" (as she puts it) to explore the Sylphiel factor!
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"No!" Gourry awoke to the sound of someone shouting, and realized that it had been him. He had been dreaming, but the details were fading fast. Something about Lina shining like gold and rising into the sky, but it was superimposed with a double-image of Lina shouting something at him that he couldn't hear. Gourry's surroundings only served to increase his sense of disorientation. The last thing he remembered, they were walking to Sairaag. Now, he was alone laying on a bed that was just slightly too short for him, while the setting sun shone through one small window, turning the stone walls into burnished copper. The back of his head felt tender, he had a residual headache, and the insides of his nostrils were itching like crazy—all the after effects of a good whack on the head. Gourry sat up and gingerly reached back to examine the damage. His hair was matted and slightly sticky, and underneath it was sore, but there seemed to be no scab. Lina probably healed me, he thought. The evidence of an injury explained why he seemed to be missing several hours, if not how he came to be in a strange bed.
As he sat up, the door to the room opened. "Are you alright, Gourry?" The voice was definitely not Lina's. It was lower-pitched and soft with concern. A lamp burning in the other room cast her features into shadow, but it looked an awful lot like . . .
"Sylphiel?"
Sylphiel entered the room, opening the door all the way so that light flooded in. She laid a professional hand on his forehead, and peered carefully into his eyes, then smiled in relief.
"Sylphiel, what are you doing here?" Somehow, even though they were supposed to be close to Sairaag, Sylphiel was the last person he was expecting to see.
"Miss Lina brought you here after you were injured. We were very worried. You've been asleep for more than a day." A frown crossed her face, and she seemed to be considering what to say next.
More than a day . . . that would explain why his bladder felt like it was ready to explode. "Um, Sylphiel . . . I kinda . . . well . . ." Gourry fumbled around, trying to think of the best way to ask her for some privacy, and resisted the urge to fidget and cross his legs.
Sylphiel blushed. "I'll go warm up something for you to eat. You must be hungry." She left the room, closing the door firmly.
Gourry sighed in relief, and looked around, noting Lina's pack leaning near the door, as well as a screened-off area that he hoped hid the night pot. He stood up quickly, then paused to wait for a surge of dizziness to pass. Unfortunately the world refused to straighten itself, and Gourry felt his stomach roil in protest, so he sat back down on the bed and put his head between his knees. Once the ground no longer gave the appearance of wanting to rise up and meet him, and his stomach stopped trying to empty itself of its contents, Gourry tried standing up again, this time much slower, to avoid a repeat performance.
Gods, I'm a mess. Gourry grimaced as he made his way slowly to the screen. Fortunately the dizziness didn't return, but all his muscles felt weak and the back of his head had started throbbing.
A few moments later, his business with the night pot completed, Gourry eased himself into a chair at Sylphiel's table. Sylphiel was busy at her stove, although she kept looking at him strangely. Gourry sat quietly, trying to figure out why she seemed different. She looked the same, but there was something . . . Then she placed a full plate of food in front of him, and he dismissed the issue. He was looking forward to filling up on one of her fantastic home-cooked meals, but as he raised a forkful of food to his mouth to take a bite, he reconsidered when his stomach suddenly protested. "Um, Sylphiel," Gourry pushed the plate away. "I'm really sorry, but I'm not all that hungry right now."
"Oh." Sylphiel blushed. "I'm the one who should apologize. I should have realized you would need something lighter." She started bustling at her stove again, and soon placed a cup of mild tea and a bowl of boiled grains in front of him. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You really should eat something to help you regain your strength."
Under normal circumstances, Gourry never ate gruel, but at the moment, it was much more appealing than the heavy meal Sylphiel had presented him with. As he took slow spoonfuls of the cereal, interspersed with small sips of tea, he began to feel better, at least physically. Something was gnawing at the edge of his awareness, a growing sense that something was wrong, aside from the fact that Sylphiel wouldn't look at him. She was sitting silently at the other end of the table, staring at her hands folded in her lap. Suddenly, he realized what was bothering him. "Where's Lina?"
"Miss Lina said she needed some time alone. She's been gone since mid-day." Sylphiel refused to meet his eyes.
"Since mid-day!" Gourry started to stand up, but then sat back down, and pulled the plate full of Sylphiel's home-cooking towards him. Speaking quite firmly to his stomach, warning it against any further displays, Gourry began to eat, picking up speed when his belly put up no further objections. He needed his strength, more than a bowl full of gruel could provide. Lina was alone in Sairaag, and all his instincts were screaming at him to find her, sooner rather than later.
Sylphiel continued to sit quietly, although she watched him in obvious concern as he proceeded to polish off his plate. A couple times he saw her take a deep breath as if to say something, but then she would change her mind. His nerves were already jangling at the thought of Lina being off somewhere alone since mid-day, and Sylphiel's odd behavior was only making it worse. It also made the food taste like ash, instead of full of flavor like it should be. When he finished, he stood up. "Thanks, Sylphiel," he tried to smile at her, but it came off as a grimace, and then went into the room where he had seen their packs.
He returned to the main room with his armor and sword, and she finally spoke. "What are you doing?" She stood up so fast that she knocked over the chair she had been sitting in.
"I have to find Lina." Gourry buckled his shoulder guards in place and hoped she wouldn't ask him to explain. He barely understood the strange insistent feeling himself. After he attached his sword to his belt, he looked up, and was startled to see tears in Sylphiel's eyes. "Sylphiel . . ."
"No. Don't say anything." She reached up to wipe a tear away with her finger, and offered him a watery smile. "Just . . . please . . . be careful," she whispered.
Gourry walked over to Sylphiel and reached out a hand, intending to place it on her shoulder. He remembered how he had comforted her after Sairaag had been destroyed, when he had helped her bring more wood to their makeshift campsite in a ruined building. Lina's words echoed in his mind, she's in love with you, you know. He had known, and he wondered, as he had in the past, why he didn't return her feelings, why he could only think of her as a younger sister and not as a partner or equal. He liked Sylphiel. She was kind and gentle, and a great cook besides, but . . she wasn't Lina, and he saw in her eyes that she knew it. This time, he couldn't help her; his attempt would only hurt her more. Gourry let his hand fell back to his side. Sylphiel broke the tableau first, turning to right her chair. He wanted to apologize . . . he wanted to thank her . . . and most of all, he wished he could think of some way to go without feeling like a total insensitive jerk for leaving her to chase after another woman.
"Did you really learn how to cast the Dragon Slave?" What made me ask that?
Sylphiel threw a startled look over her shoulder, then turned around. "Did Miss Lina tell you that?"
Gourry nodded.
She smiled ruefully, then laughed. "It's funny, isn't it. I can't cast a Flare Arrow properly, but I managed to learn the most powerful attack spell in Black Magic . . ." For the first time since he had come out into the main room, Sylphiel looked straight at him. "It's okay, Gourry. Go and find Miss Lina." She started clearing the table, humming softly to herself.
As he walked away from Sylphiel's house, Gourry headed unerringly for the Miasma Forest, or at least the place that used the be the Forest. Like Flagoon, it seemed to be gone now. It's in the old city. I'll find it there . . . Gourry just wished he knew what "it" was and why he had this need to return to Sairaag. He also hoped he could find Lina quickly, because he was still feeling the residual effects of his injury. The food had helped and he didn't feel as weak and dizzy anymore, but his head was throbbing in time with his footsteps. He paused at the edge of a pool of water, scooping some up with his hands to drink, and splashing some on his face. The sky had deepened to a dark blue, and the moon hung close to the earth, a huge crescent that bathed the landscape in a soft light and made the water glow. Crumbled marble columns ringed the pool, drinking in the moon's radiance and reflecting it back. The effect was oddly eerie, making it seem brighter than it normally would be on a night when the moon was less than half full. Gourry felt a chill of foreboding, and then the memories crashed upon him.
It was here, the old part of Sairaag, the place he had felt drawn to. This was where Hellmaster had created his temple, where he had encased the souls of the dead within a giant crystal. This is where Hellmaster had punished him for defying his control and holding back at the end of the battle with Lina and the others. He could hear Hellmaster's childish laughter as he watched cold crystal creep up his body, moving with liquid tendrils, caressing him intimately. He shuddered with the memory, but although the slow progress of the crystal had been obscene, it was still better than the nothingness that had come after. He could no longer feel, no longer see or hear, but he remained aware, struggling to breathe, but muscles that usually performed the task automatically refused to obey him. And finally, after an agonizing eternity, he was released, only to see Lina, glowing and shining like gold, talking to them and sounding so different, so serious and solemn and deep. And then she had started to leave, rising straight up into the sky, moving towards a huge black ball that hung in the air, just as the moon was hanging now. He remembered! The terror and agony as he tried to follow her; he couldn't let her go, he was going to save her! Everything was being pulled into the black ball of energy, huge black rocks from the ground rushed to merge with chaos, and he jumped from rock to rock, but he wasn't fast enough. Lina disappeared, and he followed her willingly into oblivion, shouting her name until his throat was raw.
Lina! Gourry pounded his fists on the ground in frustration brought on by emotions he had forgotten. He had lost her here! He had watched her turn away from him, unable to stop her as she moved farther and farther away. She had been always just out of his reach, nothing he had said seemed to touch her, or even slow her down. Maybe you're stubborn and sort of perverse . . . he had told her. Maybe you trick other people with your charm . . . Maybe you look down on anyone who's weaker than you, but . . . I need you! And he still did. This whole trip here, Lina had been moving farther and farther away from him, withdrawing into herself, just as she had retreated into the center of a golden-blue-black sea of chaos. His words had changed nothing, and just as he managed to grasp her arms, she had disappeared, leaving him . . . alone . . . unable, unwilling, to move. But not this time, Gourry silently vowed as he stood up. This time, I will find her. I'll save her, and I'll never let her go again.
He walked around the edge of the shallow pool, straining all of his senses for any trace of his red-haired sorceress, but the only sign of life came from a chorus of bullfrogs and chirping crickets. The incessant sound, combined with the surreal glow of the landscape made him feel off-balance. Finally, as he approached the far side of the water, Gourry noticed something in the distance: a tiny figure standing on a broken column amid a pile of rubble. He quickened his pace.
Lina was standing motionless, staring out into space, and he wondered what she was doing all the way over here. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but something made him stop. Maybe it was the expression on her face. All her masks were gone, but he wasn't sure he liked what he saw. Lina was clearly suffering. She wasn't crying, but the haunted look he had grown to hate on this journey had spilled over so that it was no longer confined to her eyes, but had consumed her entire expression.
She didn't notice him approaching, or if she did, she chose to ignore him. "Lina," he called out softly, his voice carrying through the night air.
Her shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice, and he caught a trace of panic flitting across her face, before she turned away from him. "Leave me alone, please?" Her voice hitched as she spoke.
Gourry froze. Her words were pushing him away, but her pain was calling to him. Lina needed comfort, and he wanted very badly to assure himself that she was really still there. Ignoring the ill-effects he was still feeling, he climbed up onto the pillar behind her. Quickly closing the distance between them, he enclosed her in his arms. She stiffened at first, but he gently tightened his grasp, one arm crossing above her chest to her shoulder, the other going around her waist. She seemed prepared to struggle against him, but then suddenly she relaxed and leaned into him, her right arm resting on his, her left hand holding his other arm in place. She said nothing. He said nothing. They just stood under an enormous crescent moon, taking solace from each other in the desolate landscape of a ruined city.