| ---~~~ C R Y O F O M E N S ~~~---
- Chapter One: The Death of an Elder -
Factoids:
-- Words between ~ signify mindspeech.
-- Words in italics signify your typical 'flashback' scenario or thoughts by the indicated character.
-- Words between * are being emphasized.
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Shana gently outstretched her hand; awaiting the warm touch she knew would come. In the rational sense, the young woman would wonder how. How could she know? And yet it didn't seem a question she needed or wanted to ask. It had been so, so longwhy think of such a temperamental facet in the first place? Lying down, her body comforted by the grasses below, there seemed no reason to beseech the truth of answers. Her arm reached limply to the blue sky above. Lazy white clouds, and cooling breeze
There
The once dragoon took a shallow breath.
It was a strong touch, but not at all foreboding in its presence as her fingers felt the glide of a palm against her skin. She couldn't see him. Whom she *thought* was a him, yet he was most certainly there. Shana had long remembered this contact for what it had been in her childhood, and was suddenly so overwhelmed by long forgotten aspects of her past that gods, she felt she could cry.
came back.
Her voice? Yes, if only it didn't sound so far away
Of course I came back, little one. I never left you, you know. Dearling, my Shana are you afraid?
Was she afraid?
She loved his voice. It was beautiful. It had always made her feel so loved, and so comforted. No, she was not afraid. Her hand stayed suspended in the tender air, and that just as gentle and formless touch found distinction, now. It felt of satin drawn over a stone hand; yet palpable, all the same. She wished she could see him. She wanted to see him.
I am sad She said finally, dazed hazel eyes peering above to watch the sun splay across her outstretched fingers. A pause came, and then;
Why, Dearling?"
Again, Shana did not speak for a long few moments. Her mind fluttered between reality and realization. Why? Her hand was quietly guided back to her side by that loving touch, where it stayed to stroke her skin in pleasant rhythm. A contact almost whispering, Shh, It's all right. You can tell'
"Haschel's going away..." She said softly.
"It's okay to feel sad." The voice replied as if to confirm an unspoken doubt.
"I know." Her voice came again, swift and light. "But I don't want him to go away, sir. It won't be the same." And Shana closed her eyes. "Dart will be upset. We are all going to miss him..."
The presence left her hand, trailing to her right cheek. She did not know a touch could be so soft. It felt more warm, more inviting than a lover's caress, and yet Shana knew all the same that this feeling was meant to help her. Make it seem better. Make it all go away...?
"Albert's sick..." She murmured."Haschel's dying, and Albert's sick..."
"I know."
"Do you know why? Can you help?"
"No, lovely. Not yet."
Silence. Her hair lifted in the breeze, each almond colored strand beginning to ruffle or drift lazily across still closed eyes. Shana's voice had caught its first threads of pain just then... but the ghostly impression of a hand upon her suddenly conveyed such an impossible sense of peace, the woman was sure not a trouble existed in her world.
"... Thank you." Her voice cooed.
"You've no reason to thank me, Dearling. Now hush. Hush and open your eyes."
--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--
Yet now comes a burning feather
from the skies of Dragoons' past.
Glory once in clouds of weather
brewing with the storms of time.
- Gaian Lore
--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--
Dart tilted his head into the auburn glow of dusk.
He seemed greatly at rest; laying out on a brushed down mat. The pale cream surface danced with hot red and yellow flickers of a setting Rouge sun. Gods, the air was moist. A heavy, thick blanket of tropical heat that saved little comfort to those who preferred the benign chill of cooler weather. The former red-eye dragoon of fire was not a man unaccustomed to temperatures like this; but even he under normal circumstances would feel oppressed by hundred degree weather.
At the moment, he might say he was thankful for it. Just another small nuance to shelter his thoughts from other, far more consuming details. His mind found peace in wailing over the insistent sunburn that ran bare, sweat slick arms and tousled blonde bangs. It was a discomfort, but an able distraction just the same.
He didn't want to think about his grandfather just now. But then, Dart didn't want to avoid the truth, either. He wasn't that sort of man.
"You know, you look like hell and a jar o' pickles, Dart..."
"Oh Really?" He replied to Meru's distinct voice, rolling onto his stomach. The mat gave a protesting screech of crinkles and cracks as he turned his head away from the sunset, raising a brow in the Winglys general direction. She never seemed to quite walk from place to place. 'Moves like a coiled spring-!' Haschel would say.
Meru dropped to her knees beside him, having come up the sandy trail that led out against the palms. From here, where the rugged island landscape dropped over twisted cliffs, you could see the flicker of lamp light in the distance. The air was heavy with rich smelling spice bread and that almost quaint scent that accompanied twilight campfires. For some reason, only now did the very sunset he had been watching seem to register. Outlines; dark, fluttering images of traditional Rouge housing slowly lost their oakwood shades. The deeper, darker tones of coming night had already claimed their otherwise fine tan hue.
Meru gave a disgruntled sort of noise and waved a hand in front of his face.
"Yes, Really." She tilted her head to one side. "Shana was asking for you, Dart. You've been out here for hours." The young woman dropped from her knees to her left thigh, legs brought up behind her. When again Dart gave no answer, the only lightly irritated expression she held faded quickly. Meru sighed and poked his shoulder.
"I won't blame you for wanting to be alone, Dart. But avoiding this is-"
"-I'm not avoiding anything, Meru."
The Wingly lifted her chin. "Yeah. Well, we could use you. Back at the Tage' house, I mean. You know Kongol lives there, now?"
"-You said Shana was asking for me?"
Meru's brows knotted together, ruby eyes catching the sunlight that so quickly faded. Concern. Yes, she seemed to demonstrate that emotion more and more these days. With a sort of hesitant gesture, Dart could almost feel her trying to figure this out. Had he changed the subject? Was it an honest question? Even further, did it even matter? No, not really. That was an answer both of them knew.
"Yeah..." Meru smiled then, gentle and able. "She's asleep, though. I just thought I should tell you. I was talking to her earlier. About all this mess, I mean. Its been awhile, Dart-boy! You know, I sort of just wanted to say 'hi' too." A quick, 'devil may care' grin. " Six months ain't all that much, no. But I expected a little more then a nod when you arrived this morning."
At that, Dart came alive a little. He smiled. His first smile in what seemed a long time, but etched with the classic grace of old habit. "- Yeah. Sorry, Meru."
She waved a hand once more. "Ain't nothing to be sorry for. We've all been a little depressed. Remember though, if Haschel knew we were brooding like this he'd up and kick our asses! Dart- he understands its his time. And we're all here for him." She placed a hand over his own. "Let that dirty old man go out with the party he wants, huh?"
Dart's grin grew broader. "Yeah huh." A laugh. "Thanks. Hey- What's with the new get up? You look good, though!"
Meru's face brightened. "Oh!? I..." And she looked down at her figure a moment.
Dart had heard from Shana earlier that Meru's 'new' appearance had... shocked her, to say the least. Dart had tilted his head at the declaration. Was he supposed to be surprised? He was, though. Seeing her without the jumble of blue and gold bows that normally accompanied her petite frame seemed... almost odd, now. In their place? Light blue breeches and loose, navy blue shorts. There was an ornate wrap of cloth pulled over her chest, clasped at its front by a delicate gold buckle. She still wore her hair up, though. Still that girlish charm.
Hell, he supposed...
... It struck him. It really did. Not because clothing alone was such a significant facet... it was trivial by all means. But he had found (with a near jolt...) that the young girl he had grown to consider a young sister was now a young woman. How long had he truly been away from them? His friends? Only a few months, surely. Affairs of the state had eaten away his social life with steady strokes. Had kept him away from the people he cared most for. He would always have Shana. Always... but he needed them, too. His fellow dragoons. A kinship between them had formed in the final hours of that terrible crisis those three years ago.
He couldn't stand the thought of loosing that. Loosing touch. And now in loosing Haschel, and gods, perhaps Albert....
"Da~art..." Meru whined."You're drifting off on me. Come on" - And she snapped her fingers, watching Dart blink and sit up. "I've known chipmunks that pay more attention, ya know? Look, like I said, don't brood, okay? NO ONE has seen much of you since showing up with Shana earlier. I think some conversation is in order for the big bad Divine Dragoon."
Divine Dragoon?
That's right... he wasn't the dragoon of fire. It still seemed wrong, even now.
He suddenly felt a hand on his chin. Meru's - tilting his head up and down.
"What's that?" She said with an edge of mischievous glee. "Dart-boy nodded? Alright then- come on... And hell, you better take a shower before the ceremony-!!!"
Dart rose to his feet, body still drained by nostalgic musings. He shook his head as if to clear it, looking out over the ocean that roared far below. A smirk turned on Meru."-So your saying I stink?"
"-I'm saying this spot has been your personal sauna since you came out here around 3 in the afternoon, and I don't want you sticking to the floor when we get inside." Meru lifted herself to her feet, hands on her hips. "Let's go."
"- Nn? Well, just one thing..."
"Wut!?"
"- When did you become my mother?"
Meru gave him a smack, but she was laughing too.
The Tage' house was a place named affectionately for it's over abundance of the Tage' plant. A pretty thing, with long, delicate red petals and a fluffy white pollen center. Dart could see them even now as he and Meru made their way across the trails that led back to the heart of Rouge. It was a meeting house, he supposed. The island equivalent of a Serdian hotel or Tiberoan tavern. He cast his eyes up at the crude but sturdy woodwork, thinking about that morning when he'd quietly excused himself and had gone roaming down to the cliffs. Gods, but the time flew. He'd barely taken in the world around him. Rouge was, perhaps, one of the very few places that hadn't experienced some degree of change throughout Endiness after the Moon Crisis came to pass.
The wooden planks and beams still stretched low or held tall; admirable craftwork and knotted ladders pent up around the quaint dwellings around them. It was heart, soul and the musky waft of woodsmoke nearby that perhaps made this place more comforting than he had ever expected.
Meru passed under a row of lanterns, turning her ruby eyes on a ladder nearby the stilted structure. "- Coming, Dart?"
He hadn't realized he'd stopped a moment to look over the all-to-familier buildings. Dart peered at her through tousled sandy blonde bangs.
Meru smiled at him. "- The showers they recently installed are on the first floor. It's just easiest to get the pumps working from that location. Freaky- ya know? Even the castles don't have these things yet, and Rouge does! They'll probably be a great convenience and all, but I'll take my dips in the ocean any day! Bah!"
"- Going off on a tangent there, Meru?"
"Shaddup and clean up, Dart-boy." She grinned again. "I'll see you upstairs, okay? We'll have some drinks waiting."
Dart nodded.
--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--
Miranda always had a way of getting attention. Truth be told, her voice alone could probably make a dragon think twice about crossing her path. But then, even when she didn't feel the need to shout lest her point be made, a hard fist worked just as well.
"Goddess DAMN them, Emily-! Who the hell do they think they ARE!?"
Kongol lifted his eyes gently from the book before him, a brow raised. Even as Emily moved to scold the white-silver dragoon, he could still see ripples crashing haphazardly against the sides of their glasses; bits of juice or water splattering out over the lounge table. Serdio's queen moved to steady the cups, and Miranda blurted out a course apology. He stayed silent a moment, then;
"- Problems, Miranda?"
A snort greeted him in reply as the blonde apologized again, using a nearby cloth to dab up the spills. Emily smiled at her in a sort of affectionate manner of exasperation, sitting across from Miranda in a small ring of chairs. Meru had vacated her place around the table in search of Dart not long ago, and Shana still lay asleep in the nearby room. The queen was more concerned about waking up their friend than the sudden disarray of polished wooden mugs.
"You've been listening- right? Don't give me that-!"
Kongol only folded his book, leaning back against the cot beneath him. "Listening, yes. Harming furniture, no."
Miranda smiled a rough smile, then all at once put a hand to her head and let out a grave sigh. It was another few moments before she looked back up at Emily.
"... I really am sorry, my friend. But in answer to your question- they are who they are. You know I don't agree with this any more then you do."
"I DO know-" And Miranda took a hefty swig of her drink, grimacing in thought. "-that. But forgive me, highness... Your father is a piece of shit."
That was one way to put it.
Emily smirked sadly, drawing a thin string of near white-blonde hair behind one ear. "Granted what has happened in the past few months, I'm tending to agree with you, Miranda. I suppose it's hard to say. He's my father, I feel as if I should love him..." And her violet eyes lifted, a sudden pain within. "But he won't stop. I'm trying to reason with him, and he... he just..."
Kongol watched the rafters of his home gleam with dull firelight, the embers of a once-burning hearth now minimal in comparison to the light that lanterns could provide. He rose quietly, heavy footfalls ending near the chest where he kept a jar of oil and matchflare. One by one, the Giganto began around the second floor of a perhaps quaint dwelling, setting the lamps to burn. Emily's slender, controlled features were suddenly set aglow as she closed her eyes.
"- He wants control. He wants Serdio."
"He won't have it. Albert's not going to die." Kongol stated in a matter-of-fact manner, refilling the base of the last lantern with oil and striking a final matchflare.
"NEVERMIND the fact that Emily IS queen. We all know Albert is going to pull through whether that fast bastard likes it or not, but what *I* don't understand is how he could think a sick king means fair grabs! Theresa is outraged as hell. Doesn't Zoir realize he could be looking at a war if he presses this issue?" Another swig of her drink, and Miranda placed her mug back on the table. "He's up and looking to build a superpower. Our treaties won't allow that-!"
"- And yet Sandora could prove an allied factor, if my father wants to fight dirty. He has contacts. A separation of communications is technically unwritten in the binds of such documents."
Emily fell silent after she had spoken, feeling the slow boiling rage of her friend set back to simmer. Kongol's kind brown eyes seemed to offer her reassurance even as he took a seat near the two, crossing both arms as a sentinel might. He carried such an air of commonplace knowledge these days- dare she say he even felt like a father figure, at points?
"It will be all right, Emily." A large, tender smile. "You'll always have us by your side."
The young queen returned his expression, albeit weakly. "I know. Thank you. I simply pray... that my love will weather this storm."
Miranda nodded. "Seems we all got our storms to deal with, these days."
At a sudden patter of shoes against the floorboards, all three friends turned to regard Meru. Kicking a vine from her feet as she entered the room, both Emily and Miranda were already staring behind her. They were looking for Dart, and somewhat sank back in their chairs when they realized he wasn't with her.
"Friggin ladders are pain in the ass sometimes- how the hell do you CLIMB them, Kongol!?" And Meru gave a sigh, plunking into the chair nearest her to glare at the Giganto."Ya'd think it would be wiser constructing your home on the *first* floor."
Kongol shrugged. It was a nice break in conversation no matter what the topic. "I like it. High, I mean. Besides, The first floor is still designated as the official tavern of Rouge. I've somewhat messed things up in 'taking over' the second floor."
"Nevermind that- Where's Dart?"
Meru blinked at Miranda, eyeing a spatter of water on the table that probably meant she'd slammed it with her fist again. The Wingly settled back into her seat. "Downstairs, but he'll be up soon. He's just taking a shower."
Emily brought out a cloth once more, having followed Meru's gaze to the unkempt spill, and gave a sigh. "That's good."
Then came a silence.
It was hard to understand, sometimes. Life in general. The 'How to' and the 'How not' to approach any number of situations, memories and the like. There had been a time, Meru could remember, when they'd all sat together and laughed because they were happy. Truly happy; lost in the pleasure of what they knew and understood to be true. Dart and Shana would hold hands, sitting together on a couch nearby. Albert and Emily would be side by side, offering words of wisdom at the drop of a hat. She and Miranda might squabble, hug, then squabble again; only to end up laughing as if sisters caught up in the ridiculous web of their own musings. It was so easy to picture Haschel running through the door with a broom at his back, and then there was Kongol. Kongol, who would just stand, nod, and shake his head.
She wanted it back; those times. And somehow, like now- sitting here? It only made her wish for them more. Idle conversation replaced *real* conversation. Words were said in forced tones of acceptance and cheerful regret. Meru didn't want to play games like these, and she wanted to show the others it wasn't all so bad. They'd been through worse, for the love of god.
Yes, Haschel was dying. Albert was sick.
But they were here-! Together! And youngest of the group or not, Meru found herself a foothold of reassurance even when she had not intended to become one. As far as she saw it; Haschel would go out with the friends he'd come to love. It was natural; death by age. She would miss him... goddess- yes! But she would rather remember him a lively spirit then bedridden by the hindrance of 73 long years. When her mind trailed to Albert, she did not see defeat there. He wouldn't die, and that was all there was to it.
He'd told her so, afterall.
And he was always right- that stupid braniac! Always!
She'd been the first person to arrive at Rouge come Kongol's invite, explaining the situation regarding Haschel's health. Miranda, dressed in her customary attire of formal stature, had shown up not long after wearing a visage of pain and confusion. There wasn't much to be said between them. Meru had hoped that perhaps, when Emily, Shana and Dart arrived, it would get... better.
... But Emmy was so drained. Sad. The Wingly could understand. Dart had seemed wrung to his fairest strings. As commander of the 7th knighthood and guardian of affairs of the state, she could understand that also.
Perhaps Shana was the only among them that seemed to share her opinion on these matters. She had taken her hand, smiled, and told Meru everything would be okay. She was glad Shana didn't seem distraught. At least, not more then tired. But that could be expected with a child on the way...
"... So how's Haschel?"
"Fine." Emily replied gently to Meru's question. "With the elders. They'll call us down when they're ready."
--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--~~--
Dart twisted the handle.
And twisted the handle...
And stared at the handle...
Until realizing he hadn't primed the pump. A hand flopped out of the booth he stood within, searching about for the metal slab that was connected to a rather ludicrous jumble of pipes and sticks. Once found, he jerked the handle roughly up and down, trying to prompt a bit of water pressure. The damned thing was supposed to work just like a water pump, right? When nothing happened, Dark glared hotly at the 'shower head' that was perched above him. It consisted of a tube, a hook, and a metal box with eight holes.
"... I don't have time to be standing nude in an enclosed pine shed waiting for some stupid little invention to spout-"
A stream of liquid smacked him right in the eye.
"-Water..."
With a few more gurgles and some sort of ungodly screech, Dart blinked in mild surprise as he was painted from head to toe in seawater. It was notably cooler than the water in the bathing pools nearby, and so Dart decided to forgive its previous assault. He didn't understand these contraptions, nor did he particularly care for them, but change was a part of life as they said. He reached his fingers into a nearby wooden bowl of Salve that would ease the sunburn on his shoulders and applied it carefully as the water rained down. It did feel good, he'd have to admit that much.
Another plodding of salve. Enough to administer it's soothing herbs, and water to chase the excess away. He thought of Shana, then. She could probably use a bit of the same, as on their trip to Rouge she'd picked up a rather hurtful burn across her nose and cheeks. Hands absently working away the sweat that day had wrought from him, Dart gazed at the little bowl thoughtfully. Yes, he'd do so. Any little comfort was better than not. He'd been trying to keep her...
... well.
But then, what was a little sunburn? Little things were making him anxious, and Dart didn't quite approve of that.
Sighing, he braced his hands against the wall in front of him and bowed his head at the thought. Liquid raced over his body, finding the grooves of muscle and form that provided natural routes to the floor below. Dart closed his eyes against the comforting feel of water, and wondered helplessly over his own musings.
Little things.
Like my child, and my wife, and my life...
And they weren't really little things at all, were they?
- And my grandfather, and my friends, and my country...
The former divine dragoon closed the shower some few minutes later, and thought again a phrase that had haunted him for three years solid, now.
"Why did so much have to change...?"
A man's voice had asked that question. His voice, which sounded so much more rough and able then its bearer truly felt. Everything had changed, because life always changed. For good or for bad, he'd known that. There had never been any use in asking pointless questions. The pointless answer was never as comforting as the truth of the fact.
Dart reached out of the shower once again, grabbed a towel he'd set aside earlier, and quickly dried off.
Just suck it up and go meet the others.
~ end chapter one ~
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