Disclaimers: All the characters in this fic is copyright of Karashi, if there are any similarities between my characters and actual characters, it is purely coincidental. NPC characters and the Game Ragnarok Online belong to the Creators of Ragnarok.

Chapter Five

            Dawn soon bathed the Sograt desert with its light, and The Scribe stirred from sleep. With a wide yawn, Darin rose to continue sorting the tales by author. He had meant to finish this task last night, but he was exhausted from the previous day's events. Writing for several hours will tax just about anyone. And the five glasses of rum might have also encouraged an early trip to dreamland.
            A knock interrupted him, and Lucita's voice could be heard calling him to breakfast. Darin scrambled to pull his travel clothes on. It wouldn't be polite to arrive at the table dressed in one's night garments.
            "I'll be there in a minute Miss Lucita." He called out.
            "Okay." The wizard responded, and her footsteps gradually faded away.
            "Alright then, Darin, let's complete this so we can continue with work." He nodded to himself, finally managing to organize the scrolls of parchment.
            Upon arriving at the dining hall with his packed bag, Darin saw that only Haecceitas remained.
            "Good morning, Darin." Hacky greeted politely.
            "Where is everyone, Father?"
            "Oh, they're all off to meet up with our allies, the Spectral Knights." The priest explained. "And I'll be joining them shortly, after breakfast."
            "Er… What about…"
            "Fear not, I'll be warping you to Morroc before I leave." Hacky smiled amiably.
            The Scribe sighed in relief, "For a minute there, I thought I'd have to face those Sand Men all by myself."
            "Who do you take us for? The Jaded Crimson?"
            Both men laughed.
            "Although I do hope you don't mind me saying this, I'd also like to take down the perspective of The Jaded Crimson. After all, there's two sides to a coin, right?"
            "True, true, just to warn you, The Jaded Crimson don't take kindly to anyone. Not even to their own guildmates."
            "Would you care to elaborate?" Darin grinned, taking out a fresh sheet of parchment and his quill. The priest shook his head, and no amount of persuasion could make him talk. Good naturedly, Darin returned his things back into the bag.
            "It's been interesting talking to you." Hacky smiled, "But it seems I have to go. May the gods watch over you."
            "Thank you, Father Haecceitas."
            "Please, call me Hacky." The priest laughed. "So, what will your destination be?"
            "Prontera. Be seeing you, Father Hacky."
            The white haired priest sweatdropped as he warped Darin to the capital of Rune-Midgard.

            At Prontera, Darin made a quick stop at the library. He had to purchase more parchment and quills, especially with the itinerary he had for the day. If he played his cards right, he would be able to find more stories.
            "Ah, Darin. Back for more materials I see." The librarian greeted in a whisper.
            "Yes, I'd like to buy two inkwells, three quills and maybe twenty five rolls of parchment." The Scribe ordered while handing the equivalent zeny.
            "So tell me, is your collection shaping up the way you intended it?" the librarian asked, ducking below the desk to gather the order.
            "Actually no…"
            "I'm sorry to hear that." The librarian apologized as Darin took the supplies.
            "Don't be," he grinned, "it's going better than I expected." The Scribe began to head out of the library, when the librarian called out
            "Off to gather more tales of heroes, gallantry and magic?"
            "No," Darin answered back, "I'm going to look for tales of pain, betrayal and love."
            Hisses came from the library as the readers glared at the two noise makers. Bowing in apology, Darin hastily left and went to the Kafra.
            "Welcome to the Kafra Corporation, we will go wherever you will go." The Kafra greeted imperiously through her spectacles. "What can I do for you?"
            "I'd like to store some of these parchments." Darin answered, handing an armful of the written works.
            "Very good, anything else?"
            "A warp to the Mjolnir Insane Asylum."
            The Kafra raised a curious brow, but said nothing other than "That will be three thousand zeny please." Darin paid the amount without hesitation, his 'employer' included warping expenses in the per diem.
            "Good morning sir. You are here to see Miss Evional, correct?" a priestess smiled at Darin's arrival.
            "You got it." The Scribe laughed.
            "It's wonderful that you've been visiting Miss Evional, Bernice tells me she's been improving. Who knows, she might even make a full recovery. Your visits are highly appreciated." She exclaimed, handing Darin a logbook.
            "Oh it's nothing." He replied, signing his name under the visitor's title and Addy's name under the patient's. He noticed another person who had Addy as the patient
            'Dianne.' Darin blinked, mentally taking note to ask Addy about her.
            Darin climbed up the stairwell, heading for the merchant's room. On his first day at the asylum, the maniacal laughter and horrified shrieks had unnerved him. Even if this was to be his seventh visit, he still couldn't help but shudder.
            Angry shouts echoed all around him, but a distinct voice caught his attention.

            "Shut up!! Shut up!!"

            Darin blinked, recognizing the voice as Addy's. Hurriedly, he ran down the hallway and skidded to a halt, just as the door to her room swung open.
            "Shut up!!! I don't ever want to hear you say that again!!" Addy yelled as she roughly shoved a gray haired huntress out of the room.
            "Addy, it's for your own good."
            "Shut up!! I don't want to listen to you!! Stop saying those things!!! They're not true!! They're not, they're not, they're not, they're NOT!!" the merchant shrieked, covering her ears in the process.
            "Will you get a hold of yourself!!? Stop living in your own world! Addy, you don't belong here!! You shouldn't be waiting for a man who will never come back." The huntress yelled back, grabbing the merchant's hand. "Listen to me, please. It's been two years and you haven't heard a single word from him. How can you believe Warse is going to return?"
            "What do you care??! It can't be because you're jealous. You already have someone whose coming home to you!! You already have someone to wait for!! Why won't you let me!? Why? Why!? Why?!?" the gray eyed girl demanded, collapsing in a fit of sobs.
            The huntress, rather than further berating the merchant, bent down to pat her.
            "Why?" Addy rasped, "Why won't you believe me when I say Warse is coming back? Why won't you believe in Warse? I love him… and he loves me…"
            "How many times have you told him you love him?"
            "More times than I can count…"
            "And how many times did he tell you he loves you?"
            "As many times as I have." Addy answered mechanically. The Scribe would have believed her, had he not seen the turmoil in the merchant's eyes.
            "You're certain?" the huntress pressed.
            Addy tried to defend herself, yet only succeeded in mouthing her response. It seemed the merchant could say nothing, as two forces were warring within her. In a final attempt to silence her doubts, Addy ran to her room and locked herself in.
            The huntress stood outside the door, her gloved hands clenched into tight fists. Not even with the maddened screams and delirious laughter could muffle Addy's sobs.
            "Why do you never answer that question?" the huntress whispered.
            Darin watched silently and allowed the huntress a momentary respite before approaching her. He knew he had to handle this carefully, otherwise he wouldn't be able to get what he wanted. Before he took even the smallest step, the huntress asked:
            "You're Darin, aren't you?"
            The Scribe blinked in surprise, "Er, yes, I am… how do you know that?"
            "Addy told me you've been writing down her stories. Let me just tell you that not everything she says is true. Addy's in this asylum for a reason." She turned to Darin.
            "I'm quite aware she's in an asylum, Miss Dianne." He began carefully, "And I only write down her tales, I do not make any assumptions of their validity."
            "Good, now if you'll excuse me, I must go."
            "Wait!"
            "What?"
            "About Miss Addy's stories being untrue, could you give me an example?"
            The huntress' expression turned grim, "All those stories about Warse being a kind, loving and wonderful priest are pure drivel! Sheer drivel, utter and complete nonsense! He's the reason why my cousin is here in the first place."
            "Why do you say that?" The Scribe asked, already bringing out his materials.
            "I know what you want, another story for your book. And I'll give it to you only because I want to clear things up. I doubt Addy or any of her guildmates have told you about her childhood…"
            "Well Miss Addy has stayed on the subject of her relationship with Warse…"
            "Don't interrupt me," Dianne snapped. "I don't like being interrupted."
            "I beg your pardon. Please, do go on."
            The huntress leaned back against the wall and made herself comfortable.