The Day the Moon
Shines
By: deep.Indigo
Chapter 19: Semete Kono Tsukiakari no Shita de Shizuka na Nemuri wo
(At Least Underneath This Moonlight, Let Us Sleep a Quiet Sleep)
*This chapter rated R for mature content (violence)
"Ramirez!" Fina called, walking hurriedly up to her
estranged friend as he left his room.
He glanced at her briefly and turned his head away. It was bad enough that he
had just beheld the disgusting white scar that his chest now bore; he definitely
didn't want to talk to the girl whom he had so deliberately and spitefully
verbally abused...
"Ramirez," she said again, more quietly, as she came to a stop next to him,
raising her hands to her chest. "...Is it all right if I talk to you?"
/You're talking to me now,/ he thought, but in no mood to do anything
but wearily submit, he simply nodded once.
"Umm..." she murmured, bowing her head slightly and averting her verdure eyes.
"I... About what you said a little while ago, in the meeting..."
"It is true, and I did just forget," he said quietly, anticipating her
inquiries.
She gazed up at him sadly. "Ramirez, do you hate the Elders?"
He was silent for a moment. Where had that question come from? It had
nothing to do with what they were talking about, and it had nothing to do with
anything... Never mind the fact that the answer was a solid affirmative. He had
volunteered to descend to Arcadia with the original idea that he would be
protecting the world... Then they shattered his delusions by informing him that
they intended to wipe it clean. They probably wondered why he had cut contact
with them so soon, the old fools... It was true that his ship had been damaged,
but it was reparable, and had been repaired. He could have talked to them
anytime he'd liked. The simple fact was that he'd had enough of their
oppression, and though he had been loyal to them since Hahaue's death, their
attitudes had been too much, and he decided to sever all connections with his
home and live freely among the Arcadians, upon whom the Elders looked down as
the 'island-dwellers'.
It, unfortunately, didn't go well—Admiral Mendosa had made sure of that...
"What does that have to do with anything?" the white-haired man murmured.
"Well, you abandoned the mission for Galcian..." she began, her tattooed brow
creased. "And then you forget about something as important as your own ship,
when Galcian having it means that one of the Elders will die..."
"The original plan was to kill you for your Crystal," Ramirez said
quietly, keeping his back to her. "Would you have preferred that, Fina?"
"I don't want anyone to die!" she protested, her voice rising. "I don't want
Galcian or Valua or anyone to have the capability to unseal Zelos!" Spreading
her arms, the pale blonde girl continued, tears forming, "You may not care
about this world, Ramirez, but I do! I love Arcadia! There are so many people,
plants and animals, so many beautiful things... It's true that there are ugly
things too, but I don't care! I believe that the good in this world outweighs
the bad. I want to protect this world!! I don't want the Rains of Destruction
to fall and annihilate everything!!"
/Protect this world.../ Ramirez thought, the words stirring his memory
of the dream he had the night he had almost died.
Fina calmed herself, wiping at her face with the back of her right hand.
"...I'm sorry," she amended. "I got carried away... I didn't come here to talk
about that. But Ramirez, still," the white-robed girl insisted, looking up at
him, "I can't believe you could forget about something so important... You
fought so hard to defend us all from Galcian. Even if you only did it for Vyse,
Arcadia is important to him, too... Don't you want to protect it, if only to
make sure there's still a world for him to live in?"
/Protect this world.../ the older Silvite mentally repeated,
remembering...
The blasted plains stretched on infinitely in all directions, a flat
dimension of obsidian rock and soil. Overhead, the overcast skies were just as
omnipresent, hiding all that soared high from sight. The horizons showed
nothing but a vague haze, as if there was nothing beyond them. It was a world
of black and grey, where the wind alternated between dead and wildly roaring,
and Ramirez stood in the center of it, his black and red uniform no protection
whatsoever from the cold.
He tried not to shiver, but the intermittently blowing gales sliced through his
clothes as easily as the Grand Admiral's had, and he clutched his arms to his
chest, stepping forward, the slate-colored earth crunching beneath him with
every footstep.
/Is this the underworld?/ the Silvite wondered as he walked aimlessly,
green eyes lackluster. /Have I died? Have I gone to Hell?/
It was the logical conclusion, and wandering for eternity to nowhere while the
wind sometimes tried to push him over seemed like a suitable punishment...so he
continued to place one foot in front of the other, advancing to a place he knew
not, without rest or cessation, believing he deserved his suffering.
At length, although the scenery had not changed in the least, the windstorm
died down and remained that way. Ramirez traveled on for how long, he knew not,
but eventually, he stumbled, the process and repeat of wind and no wind broken,
and dropped to his knees, his palms slapping the dead earth as he doubled over,
his silver bangs falling in a disarray to become a veil hiding his face.
It was, he noticed now that the wind had faded, silent. The only sound he could
hear was his own breathing, and Ramirez was struck by the urge to yell, to do
something to break the oppressive silence. Instead, restraining that urge, he
stared blankly at the ground. He didn't want to walk to a destination he didn't
know anymore. If he were to remain here, alone, for eternity...that would be
fine with him.
Ramirez lifted his head to gaze up at the hazy skies, but was startled to see a
stone slab not more than five feet away from him, and though obscured partially
by the mist, the sword impaled into it was very familiar...
With a sudden surge of energy, he pulled himself to his feet and ran to the
rock. It was, indeed, his sword. Grasping the hilt, he pulled, and nearly fell
backwards due to the ease with which the blade came loose.
He regained his balance and surprised himself by smiling wholeheartedly as he
lifted Ilazki, lips curling back in preparation of laughter as he gazed at its
deadly beauty. He didn't laugh, however; he merely sighed contentedly. He
wasn't alone. It was...comforting. He had wandered this wasteland for—how long,
he didn't know... But it was long enough for him to realize he couldn't stand
the desolation.
Past the sharpness of the blade, Ramirez could see the fog slowly creeping
apart to form a cleft, as if to reveal a path. He swiped his weapon downwards,
toward it, and the way instantly opened, the mist being sliced apart.
In the distance was, he could now vaguely see, a range of craggy, jagged
mountains. A destination! One that could be seen, reached, realized... Ramirez
almost moved to leap forward, to sprint towards them—but then remembered where
he was...why he was here. If he went there, would he truly find himself in
Hell? It was where he belonged, after all... But where else was there to go?
"I...must accept responsibility for what I have done," he murmured to himself,
and somberly began to advance again.
He continued to walk, the mist parting and fading before him. It was almost
dreamlike, but he could hear and feel every step he took, as well as every
breath. Besides, there was no way he could have survived that wound. This was
no dream. And on he walked. He kept his eyes on the crags that were growing
closer and closer, and disregarding everything else around him—it was all
covered in haze, anyway, even if it was receding—he approached it, increasing
his speed as he advanced...
...until he walked into a bar that dug into his midsection, and unwillingly
expelling the air from his lungs, he backed up several paces to observe what
had blocked his way.
It wasn't a bar. It was someone's arm. The arm was still attached to that someone,
whose back was facing Ramirez, whose front was gazing out at the mountain
range, whose long, black cloak hung heavily, obscuring any recognizable body
shape.
"It would be bad form to walk off the edge without ever realizing it was
there," the person, decidedly male, said, and the Silvite redirected his gaze
to the man's feet, where the ground dropped off sharply.
His eyes widened slightly, but he then remembered that he was dead. What
difference did it make if he fell or not? His eyes flicked back up at the man.
Who was he? Another lost soul, or...
...Maybe Hell at least had the decency to collect the damned instead of leaving
them to wander.
"Who are you?" Ramirez queried quietly, wanting to make sure of the stranger's
identity first.
"My name is Michaol," the man replied without looking at him.
The Silvite's eyes widened. Michaol—as in the Fallen Angel? No, perhaps this
man was simply named after him...
...The former Admiral recalled then one of Vyse's alternate endings to the myth
of the fallen one—how he had become the Lord of the Dead... Who knew? Perhaps
the Arcadians knew something he didn't. It wouldn't be the first time...
"Are you the King of the Dead?" he inquired, gazing at the black-haired man. He
took a deep breath as Michaol glanced over his shoulder at him, and steeled
himself. "...I'm ready. Take me to Hell."
The taller man blinked once. "...Take you to Hell?" he repeated, eyebrows
furrowed.
Ramirez peered at him. "Are you not Michaol, the Fallen Angel? The one who
defied God and nearly destroyed the world?"
The cloaked man turned to him, peering back with serious, crimson eyes.
"...No."
"Another lost soul, then?" Ramirez guessed.
Michaol glanced down at Ilazki, which the Silvite still grasped in his right
hand, then back at its bearer's face. "...In a manner of speaking."
"Why did you stop me?" the green-eyed man asked. "I'm already dead, a fall
won't do anything to me."
The taller man's sable eyebrows furrowed, and he scowled slightly. "The sword
in your hand," he said. "How did you acquire it?"
Ramirez's grip on his sword tightened. Suspicious of the man's intentions, he
replied, "It was given to me. What of it?"
"Given to you?" Michaol repeated, scowl deepening. "By whom?"
Taking a step backward, the young Silvite raised his blade slightly. He did not
like the route these questions were going. "It belongs to me," he
repeated his expression darkening. "The Elders entrusted it to me."
The black-haired man regarded Ramirez silently for a moment, obviously noting
the hostile movement. "It was given to you..." he murmured as much to himself
as to Ramirez. "When you were a young child? Perhaps nine...ten...eleven years
old?"
"Yes," the shorter man replied, his voice terse. Who was this man? Why did he
know of Ilazki and when it was gifted to him?
"Then it was you I sensed back then..." he murmured, his expression softening.
"What's your name?"
For a moment, the young Silvite was tempted to deny him his name; why should he
tell anything to this stranger? But, it wasn't as if that information was
anything vital or secret. It was just a name, and so he replied curtly,
"Ramirez."
"Ramirez," Michaol repeated, gazing at him evenly. "It has been a long time...
It's good to meet you at last." He paused, then frowned slightly. "...Or
perhaps not. You mentioned that you had died... It seems an impossibility,
though..."
Confused by the strange man's words, Ramirez, his blade still raised, asked
warily, "Why do you say that?"
"You are here, are you not?" Michaol frowned. "The dead cannot dream."
The young Silvite was visibly taken aback. "But this isn't a dream," he argued.
"I could not have survived those wounds!"
The red-eyed man's frown increased. "Perhaps he's on the edge...?" he murmured
to himself. "Yes, that makes sense; he is here... Ramirez," he
spoke in a louder voice. "Can you explain to me the circumstances?" He took a
step forward, looking almost urgent. "Who did you want to protect?"
The shorter man took a step back in reaction. Furrowing his brows, he replied,
"Why do you need to know?"
"It's crucial," Michaol replied. "It's the reason why I'm here before you now.
That man...the one with the dark beard and the cold eyes. The one you wanted to
protect...it was from him, wasn't it?" The dark-haired man shut his eyes, looking
troubled. "The fight was going well... But someone called your name, and..."
"...I died," Ramirez said. He lowered his blade, his gaze locked with the tall,
red-eyed man's. "It's as I told you. I'm dead now. It's over! It's finally
over!" he replied, his last words tinged with near-hysteria.
"You are not dead!" Michaol said sharply, maroon eyes flashing in anger.
"If you die, what becomes of the one you wanted to protect?!"
The male Silvite was momentarily struck mute by the dark-haired man's outburst.
Then he spoke, "...It doesn't matter. He won't have to worry about me anymore.
Vyse will...be fine."
"If Vyse would be fine without you, why did you want so desperately to defend
his life?" Michaol inquired shrewdly. "If you were not needed, what would be
the point?"
"That's not important! If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have been in that
situation!" Ramirez shouted back.
Undaunted, the black-haired man queried, "And has the situation changed now?
Will Vyse be completely safe, even though you are gone?"
This made the young Silvite stop in his thought process. Would Vyse be safe?
After all, he had died and... But no, Lord Galcian had promised to spare Vyse
only as long as he never again would take up arms against him. And continuing
to challenge Lord Galcian, Ramirez knew with despairing certainty, was exactly
what Vyse would do. His death had been meaningless. Vyse would continue to
fight against the Grand Admiral...and die. He bowed his head forward, his
shoulders sagging at that grim reality.
The wind picked up then, and with unexpected ferocity, blew against them both
towards the mountain range, as if trying to force them over the edge. Michaol,
apparently used to this, dug the grooved heels of his fringed, black boots into
the soil and crouched before the blast hit—but Ramirez was caught off-guard,
and the vicious gust knocked him over...to hurtle down the cliff, still
clinging to Ilazki.
"RAMIREZ!" Michaol bellowed, seeing this, and in a serpent-quick motion, shot
his left arm down and managed to grab the blade. It slid down several inches,
slicing into the flesh of his hand, before it stopped, his grip secured, but
weakened by the blood now slipping down the silver weapon, coursing over and
past the spikes and grooves, and pit-patting onto Ramirez's right hand, balled
into a fist around Ilazki's hilt.
"Wha—" the Silvite uttered.
"Are you all right?" Michaol cut him off in a surprisingly calm voice, one eye
twitched shut. "Can you hold on?"
Wide-eyed, Ramirez simply nodded.
Surprisingly, he smiled. "That's good to know," he said, and began to inch
backwards, pulling the sword and Ramirez both slowly back up the cliff, the
wind howling above him.
The Silvite hugged the wall of the crevice as best he could, hating the
helpless feel of his legs flailing in midair, and, though he didn't quite
understand the point, tried to climb up to aid Michaol some. The blood was
disconcerting... If they were already dead, why and how could the stranger get
injured?
On an impulse, the silver-haired swordsman glanced down, wondering what was at
the bottom of the cliff—and his stomach lurched. The bottom couldn't clearly be
seen, but that didn't stop Ramirez from sensing it—writhing, groaning
shapes, predatory, wild, waiting for something to fall down to them, like a
bone to a pack of starved hunting dogs...
Swallowing hard, he forced himself to look back up again, suddenly dreading a
fall. An anxious minute passed, until Michaol had hoisted him high enough to
grab his other hand with the one not tightly grasping the blade, and pulled him
up over the edge.
The wind still howled, but by remaining flat to the ground, Ramirez managed to
keep from being blown back again. His grip on his sword, now that he was on
flat land, loosened, and the stranger took that opportunity to pull it from
him, take it in his right hand, and, surging to his feet, slash toward the
direction of the wind.
The current broke, and the bluster changed direction, then quickly died—soon
enough to reveal the sound of something approaching very close up the cliff
wall behind them.
Ramirez got to his feet, ready to demand his weapon back, but Michaol swiveled
and swiped the air—just as a horrendous creature burst upward. The fiend was
colored grey as dark as pitch, and various parts of its body were either dull
maroon or gold or, like the runes running up its right leg and left arm,
silver; its body was wiry and contorted, with long, vicious claws, but most
harrowing of all were its phosphorescent eyes, which glowed a brilliant and
unearthly viridian. It was snarling, but its guttural voice changed to a
furious howl as it was dealt that powerful slash. The swordsman in black
attacked again, driving Ilazki through the monster's chest, then kicked it off
and retreated to let it fall back down, keening the entire way.
There was a moment of silence where neither man moved, before the cloaked
stranger finally breathed a ragged breath and glanced at Ramirez. He began to
speak, but stopped himself and looked the Silvite over, his eyes widening as if
in revelation.
"...I see now..." he murmured. "The wind and the creatures...they're here
because of you..."
"What are you talking about?" Ramirez demanded, angry, confused, and vaguely
frightened.
Michaol glanced at him, jaw set. "Ramirez..." he said quietly. "Do you fear
insanity? Losing your mind, your identity, to madness?"
The green-eyed man stared at him for a long while before replying, "Yes.
Who...who doesn't fear that...?"
Michaol chuckled mirthlessly, glowering down into the darkness. "Your demons are
frightening ones... All waiting to overtake and consume you, as soon as you
fall into them... And adversity continually pushes you toward the edge, until
the day you fall off... No. You are constantly on that edge, it seems," he
corrected himself, turning the silver blade in his hand slightly, as if it were
telling him something. He turned away from the cliff and placed an arm around
Ramirez's shoulders. "Come," Michaol commanded, frowning slightly. "Let us move
away from here while we can."
The former Admiral flinched at the contact and shrugged free of the arm, but
let the tall man lead him away. A hundred questions still burned in his mind,
but he hardly knew where to begin, never mind comprehending the events that
were taking place.
A distance away from the dangerous cliff edge, Michaol stopped, and turned to
face Ramirez once again. He raised Ilazki and glanced at its silver blade
briefly, touching the fingers of his left hand up its sharpness before grasping
the crystal weapon in that hand and offering hilt-first back to Ramirez.
The Silvite scowled at him distrustfully, but accepted it back, placing his
right hand on the handle. The other man did not release it, however, and simply
gazed evenly at the shorter swordsman, his blood-red eyes meeting Ramirez's
deep green ones.
"There is an edge, Ramirez...as razor-thin and sharp as the edge of the sword
you bear," Michaol declared calmly, the two of them connected by Ilazki. "And
you are walking upon it."
"What... what are you talking about?" the Silvite finally demanded, his
confusion finally reaching a breaking point as he pulled back in an attempt to
free his sword from the strange man's grip. He was startled to discover that he
may as well have tried to uproot a tree; Michaol was surprisingly strong.
"I speak of the line separating madness and sanity," the black-haired man
stated, almost completely ignoring the ex-Admiral's attempts to free Ilazki. He
jerked his head toward the cliff they had just left, and continued, "That
creature you just saw? It was borne from your own mind." Michaol set his eyes
on Ramirez again. "Nothing should be able to climb up that cliff. For one of
your demons to try almost to the point of success to devour you..." He shook
his head and finally let down of the silver blade. "Never have I encountered
someone so...so with the potential to become so violently insane. You must have
had several harrowing experiences...and responded exceedingly poorly to them."
"I'm not crazy!" the young man shouted, backing away from Michaol, but at that
moment came unbidden to him a memory of the night after he had been taken
prisoner by Vyse...
The Blue Rogue had called him a "psycho". But he wasn't really insane...was he?
He began to shake, terrified by the possibility that he might truly be mad
after all. It wasn't possible! He prided himself on his logic! ...No, but his
actions of late spoke differently...
"...I'm...not insane...am I...?" he whispered, more to himself than as a
response.
Michaol regarded him with an expression perhaps of sadness, and sighed. "You
are not...healthy, mentally speaking," he stated. "You become disturbed even by
the possibility that you are disturbed... But you are not as far gone as you
could be. Recovery is a possibility. That much is evident by the fact that I
can stand before you now."
Ramirez stared at him, unable to comprehend. "What are you...?" he whispered.
The taller man's crimson eyes flicked to Ilazki. "The Sword of the Dark Moon,"
he murmured. "It was a common nickname for that blade...particularly among
Silvites..." He regarded Ramirez again. "I know, because I used to wield it."
In utter astonishment, Ramirez managed to get out, "You... you... no, that's
impossible! You aren't a Silvite!"
Michaol looked away, jaw clenched. "No," he agreed sharply. "No, I am not."
"Then how...?" the former Admiral inquired further.
He sighed. "A long, long time ago... I fell in love with a Silvite woman...
Perhaps this would not have mattered much if she had been a commoner, but she
was a Princess." His gaze softened as he presumably recalled happier days with
that woman, and Michaol continued, "Her name was Aina. Her people...your
people...were not pleased. To have me prove myself, they attempted to send me
on a suicidal task. To their infinite amazement, I completed it, though I
nearly died in the process. What's more, when I had done it..." He shifted his
gaze back to Ilazki. "...that sword, Ilazki, had been born. It had been born,
and I was given permission to wield it so long as I swung it in order to defend
that which I held dear." He smiled faintly. "Which I did, without fail...up
until the day I died."
"...And now you wander as a lost soul," Ramirez surmised.
"I don't...precisely...wander," Michaol replied, with some difficulty. "...I
will speak without reserve. My spirit became bound to my sword—your sword. In
essence, you hold my body in your right hand. I can appear like this when I am
needed...even borrow the body of the one who wields me to lend my strength to
those who have someone they desperately want to protect. You wanted to protect
Vyse, more than anything else, against...that man. And so, my strength became
yours."
Ramirez's eyes widened again in surprise. "It was you!" he cried. "You're the
one who almost made me kill Lord Galcian!"
"Was that that man's name? Galcian?" Michaol frowned. "Amazing strength... Very
interesting technique... Very, very interesting..." He sighed. "But we are
moving off-track. Whether you live or die is up to you; you have the power to
determine which way you go. If you truly wish to embrace Death, there is little
I can do to stop you. However, I must ask you—are you truly satisfied with
giving up your life for Vyse after protecting him just that once? As long as
Galcian lives, he will be threatened. Even so, are you content?"
"I..." Ramirez began, but he trailed off and shook his head. "...I don't know
what I can do. I hardly deserve to try to protect him, after all that I've done
to him..."
"You have spent a long time disregarding the proper use of Ilazki," Michaol
noted. "I sensed you long ago, and believing that you would be able to wield my
sword the way I had intended, I slept, waiting for you to realize your
potential. I do not know what prevented you from awakening Ilazki before now...
Either you had no one other than yourself to protect, or you wielded that sword
with hate in each swing, or perhaps both... Ilazki is not meant to be used for
selfish purposes; her true strength, and yours as her wielder, cannot be tapped
otherwise."
"That... that much is true...but I don't have the right to protect him,"
Ramirez replied with a shake of his head. "I only did what I did because I owed
him for the pain I inflicted on him."
The dust around them stirred, as if the wind from before were trying to creep
up around them, and Michaol glanced sharply at it. "That is the only
reason?" he queried, eyeing it. "Why did you want to protect him in the first
place, then?"
Turning his gaze to the ground, Ramirez watched the tiny whirlwinds of dust
caper about until he swore he could feel the steady gaze of the red-eyed man,
and replied, "I...fell in love with him. ...But it's only one-sided. I have no
chance..."
"...There are those where, if they meet a one-sided love, they should let go of
it and find a different happiness," Michaol said quietly, utterly unperturbed
by the fact that Ramirez had admitted to being in love with a man. "However,
for you to feel so strongly that you could awaken me... Would not simply being
near him be good enough? Would not simply being able to secure his happiness be
good enough to ensure your own?"
"But I—" Ramirez began to argue, lifting his head to glower off into the
distance. He cut himself off, however, when he saw a human figure several yards
away, obscured by the rolling dust.
Michaol saw his stare and quickly turned to see the same thing Ramirez had—a
young woman with long, black hair, the bangs obscuring her face, her silver
bangles and intricate, layered robes of jet and azure unperturbed by the air
currents.
"That..." Michaol murmured, looking wholly surprised and vaguely disconcerted.
"Who's that?" Ramirez queried, furrowing his brows at the taller man.
"That girl?" the taller swordsman replied, his eyes narrowing. "Judging from
her appearance, she seems to be a Dreamseer. I honestly hadn't thought there
were any of them left, though..."
As he spoke, the girl stepped backwards, apparently surprised at having been
seen, though it was difficult to tell how she could have known since her hair
was in the way. A large roll of obsidian dust rolled up, hiding her from
view...and when it had passed, she was gone.
The two men stared at the spot where she had been for a few minutes before
Michaol turned back to face Ramirez once more.
"As you were saying?" he asked with a nod of encouragement.
Ramirez wanted badly to know what a Dreamseer was and why Michaol seemed so put
off by seeing one...but he just shook his head. "I've betrayed Vyse's trust
several times over," he muttered. "He only keeps me near him because he can't
stand having my suicide on his conscience. How can I be happy when I know
that's the only reason he tolerates me?" He shut his jade green eyes, clenching
his left hand into a fist. "...He once considered me his friend. He tries to be
kind to me likely for that reason. But that 'friendship' is no longer so...nor
can it ever be so again."
"Is that because Vyse has rejected you, or because you have rejected him?"
Michaol questioned softly.
The Silvite paused, and thought over the matter. It might be true what Michaol
had said, but... He shook his head. "...It doesn't matter," Ramirez said, "I
cannot be forgiven."
"You may find that Vyse holds a different opinion from you." The black-cloaked
man shut his eyes. "Let me help you, Ramirez. I still believe that you can
wield Ilazki properly. Your hardships will not end here, but you can grow
strong enough to rise above them. However...you have to want to exert this
effort. It is easy to say 'I cannot be forgiven'...far more so than to work
towards redemption."
The dust swirls picked up then, and very deliberately, they began a spiral path
around the two men, a movement that did not go unnoticed.
Watching the dust as it danced around them, Ramirez, allowing his attention to
the conversation be broken by the odd phenomenon, breathed, "What...? What is
this?"
"I...am not sure," Michaol replied, peering at it, his eyes following its path.
"But...if you are dying, as you said...this may be an earmark of that..."
Turning to the Silvite, the cloaked man said urgently, "Ramirez. What do you
want to do?"
The silver-haired man looked back at him and shook his head. "I...don't
know..." he said, knowing full well that was not a proper answer to the
question.
"Do you want to live? Or do you want to die?" Michaol persisted, taking a step
forward as the winds sped up. "If you don't make a decision, one will shortly
be made for you!"
Torn between giving in to his true desire to die, though he knew it was
selfish, or returning to a life that would only continue to bring him pain,
Ramirez could only shake his head and repeat once more, "I don't know!"
"Let me ask this, then," the taller man said, the currents, whipping his dark
bangs across his handsome face. "How badly do you want to be with Vyse?"
"I don't know!" the Silvite repeated once again, shutting his eyes tightly.
"Shall I make that decision for you, then?" Michaol inquired, his voice raised
to be heard over the growing howl of the wind.
"I don't care anymore!" Ramirez shouted back, the strands of his hair cast
aflutter by the gale.
"You should care! Your life is more important than you realize!" Michaol stated
sharply, his cape billowing, in spite of how it was made of heavy leather.
"Fine! Then live! Both Ilazki and I have chosen you! I cannot force you to do
anything you do not wish, but I also cannot allow you to die so soon!"
Wide-eyed, Ramirez gaped at him, but did not protest the decision. "I..." he
started to say, but shook his head and started again, now having to shout to be
heard over the roar, "...I accept your decision!"
Michaol smiled grimly at him, and called, "This is not a time to waver!" The
statement hardly made sense to the Silvite, since he had just said that he
would submit to the red-eyed man's choice, but he had no time to ponder the
deeper meaning of the statement before Michaol concentrated, a brilliant white
battle aura emanating from him, blocking off the wind from closing in too
close. "Awaken!" he snarled, his words barely audible. "Ramirez!!"
White, gray and black mixed and swirled together in a violent tornado, and the
sound was enough to make the Silvite swordsman's ears bleed, and it looked as
if they would both be crushed—
And then he woke up.
"Don't talk to me about something as pretentious as saving the world," he
replied at length. "Not when I can't even make a simple decision for myself..."
Blinking away tears, Fina whispered, "Ramirez..." She bowed her head. "Do
you hate the Elders?"
/Well, what is the point in lying?/ "Yes."
"Why?" the younger Silvite murmured.
"It's not something that you would understand," he muttered, his eyebrows
furrowing.
She glanced up at him almost fearfully. "Do you hate me?"
Ramirez glanced back behind his shoulder partially. "I just listed one of the
reasons why." He glowered back down at the floor, ignoring the stung hurt on
her face. "It doesn't matter anyway. You hate me for being me. I hate you for
being you. I'd say we're even."
"I don't hate you for being you!" Fina protested, trying to move around to
Ramirez's front to look him in the face; he simply moved with her to avoid her
gaze, however. "I don't hate you at all! Ramirez, please!!" she cried in
frustration, grabbing his arm. "I was angry before, but...but now, I just want
to understand!"
He pushed her away roughly and took three long strides away, further down the
hall; they had turned 360 degrees in their small game of pursuit and avoidance.
"Is nostalgia getting the better of you, Fina?" he asked quietly, icily. "Do
you still think of me as your sweet, kind-hearted 'older brother'? The one who would
take the blame for you whenever you did something that might have merited
punishment? The one who was always talking earnestly about wanting to sail the
vast oceans of the world?
"That Ramirez is already dead. He was murdered a long time ago," he continued
frigidly. "And he will never return. Fina, your childhood friend is gone.
Accept it!"
"No! I refuse to believe that," she replied firmly, gazing resolutely at his
back. "If the Ramirez I knew were truly deceased, would you have fallen in love
with Vyse? Would you have risked your own life in order to save his?"
"What do you understand of how I feel about Vyse?!" the Silvite swordsman
demanded, finally twirling around to glare at her, teeth gritted. "And why do
you bring it up, anyway? You think it's disgusting," he added bitterly.
She guiltily averted her eyes. "That's...I thought about it," she murmured.
"And I realized that the Elders...had been wrong about the people of this
world...how none of them can be trusted, how they all burn to death in the
flames that they themselves had set...and if they had been mistaken about that,
then perhaps...they could be mistaken about this, too..."
"You aren't even upset that I've become your rival?" he queried, scowling.
"Wh, what?" she stammered, staring at him wide-eyed, cheeks turning pink.
"I...I don't know what you're..."
"Not like it makes a difference," Ramirez cut her off, crossing his arms and
staring resolutely at the wall. "Is this all you came to talk to me about?"
"No. Ramirez, I..." She took a step forward, trying to touch his forearm
gently, but he shrugged off her touch, and she bowed her head. "I wanted to do
two things... The first was to apologize for...saying the things I had when you
revealed that you were in love with Vyse."
"You have a funny way of apologizing," he muttered. "Again, not that it makes a
difference. And the second thing you wanted to say?"
"I wanted..." she began, looking up at him. "I wanted to make sure you really
hated me—and if you did, why..." She lowered her chin, her eyes shut, and said,
"You've done a lot of things I don't like or approve of... But I still care
about you. I realized that when Mr. Ilchymis and I were trying so desperately
to make sure you didn't die. You've been cruel to me simply so you could laugh
while I cried, and your behavior is erratic, heartless, spiteful and
sadistic... But I can't let go that easily of our friendship." She lifted her
chin to gaze squarely at him and continued, "Hahaue cared about both of us so
much! She sang to both of us, she did her best to raise us even though we
couldn't spend much time with her because of her illness... Even though you say
the old you is dead, I don't want to believe that. If there's some chance of
reviving the days when you used to smile so wholeheartedly, even if it's only a
one percent chance...I want to try for it." Fina averted her eyes. "And so, I
want to know why you hate me...so I can try to understand, and fix what went
wrong."
He smirked mirthlessly. "You've been hanging around Vyse for too long... That
sounds exactly like something he'd say." The former Admiral turned to the side,
arms crossed, eyes sullenly fixed on the floor. "You want to know why I hate
you? Fine. It's precisely that attitude that makes me hate you." Shutting his
eyes, he said coldly, "You seem to be under some kind of impression that we are
equals...that because you have been raised sheltered and coddled, that I was as
well, and that things thus are completely the same between us.
"You're utterly mistaken!" he declared, glaring venomously at her. "We have
never been equal. The fact that the Elders sent you down here without ever
telling you the truth of our race is proof of that! You've always been coddled
and doted upon, while I was regarded coldly and forced simply to do as I was
told. That's why I despise how you stand before me and say you want to regain
my smile..." On the verge of snarling, he declared, "Never even realizing the
magnitude of your hubris!!"
"...You're jealous," Fina whispered, eyes wide, hands clutched tightly in front
of her chest, shaking her head slowly and incredulously.
"Excuse me?" he demanded frigidly.
"You're jealous of me," she repeated, staring at him.
He shook his head in disbelief, and replied vehemently, "No! I'm not jealous of
you. Why would I want to be as ignorant of reality as you are?"
"You're jealous because I'm happy and you're not!" she said sadly. "Because you
think I was treated better than you... That the Elders liked me better than
you..."
"No!" he all but screamed at her, "I would never be jealous of an ignorant
child like you!!" Near trembling with rage, Ramirez took a deep breath, trying
to calm himself before his emotions overran him once again. He restated, the
words still dripping with pure hatred, "Why... why would I ever be jealous of you..."
Trying her best to reign in her tears, Fina mumbled almost indistinctly,
"...closer to Vyse than you..."
Ramirez visibly flinched. That was true, especially with the barriers now
between them... but wait... did she mean something deeper by that? Were she and
Vyse...?
/No no no no NO,/ he denied violently, thrusting the image aside.
Despite not believing the young Rogue's overtures of love, the idea of Vyse and
Fina together made him feel sick, and more disturbingly, he couldn't quite name
the reason why. /He wouldn't. It wouldn't happen. It's not possible.../
Fina sniffled and wiped at her eyes; she knew she had gone too far, and
although Ramirez probably deserved it, she felt terrible for bringing it up.
/Eight years ago.../ she thought to herself, feeling miserable. /It
was eight years ago when you left me.../
In sudden recollection of what day it was, her verdure eyes widened, and she
shook her head slightly and took a step backwards.
"...There's just one last thing I have to say," she murmured. The Silvite girl
hesitated, then forced out, "...Happy birthday, Ramirez."
And with that, she turned on her heel and fled for the stairs, climbing up them
and disappearing from sight without ever looking back.
He stared after her for a moment, before managing to compose himself again. The
lunar cycle was in the Shade of the Red Moon now, wasn't it, and had been for a
while... He wasn't sure of the day, but it probably was the
seventeenth... He had forgotten. It wasn't that surprising; he had never really
viewed the day of his birth as something worth celebrating. Not for seven
years, at least... Remembering it now wholly depressed him, though, and after
his argument with the girl who had once been his best friend, he had no will or
energy to face anyone else. Pulling the door to his room open, he trudged back
inside, wanting only to forget everything.
His former friend had done likewise, also heading back to her room. Once the
door behind her was shut, Fina collapsed on her bed, the sobs that had been
withheld finally coming forth.
"Kyu?" Cupil squeaked worriedly, unwrapping itself from its bracelet form to
form in front of its mistress.
"Oh, Cupil," she choked out, hugging the round, silver creature to her chest.
"At least you'll never leave me..."
She sat like that for a long time, or at least it seemed as such to her, before
calming down enough to calm her sobbing into sniffling and sharp breaths. As
Cupil hovered above her, she ran over the argument she had just had in my mind.
Why couldn't they talk without fighting anymore? Could eight years really
change someone so much?
/Apparently so,/ she thought glumly, remembering how vicious Ramirez had
been when he had told her he hated her. There had never been a day up on the Great
Silver Shrine that had passed without her thinking of him; she had missed him
so badly, and been so worried about him after the Elders lost contact with
him...
The Elders. According to Ramirez, they had been lying to her for her entire
life... But could she believe him? He was so spiteful towards her; it would be
easy for him to lie just to hurt her... Somehow, though, she had a gut feeling
that he hadn't, and it frightened her. It reminded her of the nightmare she'd
had the night he had almost died...
She had been kept isolated in her room for as long as she could remember.
The Elders forbade her from leaving or exerting herself too much, as she was
too delicate.
And so she was, for her body was made of nothing but finely spun, opaque silver
glass.
She was ever so beautiful—she knew because the Elders had always told her so,
praising her as a sparkling jewel. Everyone loved her, and gave her anything
she wanted, delivered directly to her room, because such a precious gem
couldn't be allowed to somehow crack or break. It was lonely sometimes, but
everyone came to her and loved her, especially Ramirez, so she could keep on
smiling, which made the Elders happy, which in turn made her happy.
One day, Ramirez had stopped by to tell her he was going away for a long time
and that he didn't know when he would come back again. She had been sad, and
wanted to go with him, but the Elders told her if she left her room, she would
break. And so Ramirez had gone away while she remained alone in her room, but
at least here she would not break.
She was devastatingly lonely, but she kept a picture of him in her heart while
she was tended to meticulously, her shimmering form admired, her room kept
sparkling and free of dust. The years passed, and her form morphed and changed,
always beautiful, but maturing into the body of a lovely young woman. Fina
always remembered her beloved friend and waited for him in her lonely room,
taking meticulous care never to crack even the slightest bit. As she grew
older, her memories grew fonder, until her image of Ramirez was one of a girl
blossoming into adolescence in love.
And then one day, he returned from his long journey.
But the image she kept of him no longer matched the man he had become.
"Fina," he declared when he saw her again. Years ago, he would say her name
with such tender warmth and affection, smiling at her as if she were his entire
world. Now he spoke it coldly, with disgust bordering on malice, and a scowl.
"...Ramirez?" she whispered, taken aback. She stepped away from him, her lovely
glass body curving as she moved.
His mundane body of flesh and blood stepped forward. "It has been a long time,"
he said, still coldly, his once gentle green eyes now cruel and unfeeling.
"...I missed you," she said quietly, terrified by his metamorphosis, and hoping
desperately that he would suddenly change and say it was all a joke.
He smiled. It was not a friendly smile. Fina took another step backward. "You
missed me?" he said. "How...amusing. I suppose you were tired of just the
Elders doting upon you? You wanted a handsome older brother to fawn over you?
You're disgusting."
"No!" she cried in protest, then tried to explain, "I really missed you! I... I
love you!"
He laughed scornfully, and hearing it made Fina shudder. She stopped herself as
soon as she could, for the waves would make her body rupture, she knew. She had
to always be at peace, so the Elders told her—she was too fragile to be
presented with anything upsetting.
"Love me?" he repeated, his tone deadly. "You pathetic fool. How dare you say
such a thing to me when you're content to live here in absolute ignorance,
allowing everyone around you to dote on you?"
"No—" she began to protest again, but before she could begin, Ramirez threw
something in her face.
It was dirt.
"That's from the outside world," he said maliciously as she doubled over,
trying to rub the stuff away—it had gotten in her eyes and nose. "Where I have
been these past several years. You say you love me? I'm covered in that! If you
truly love me, you can easily deal with just a small portion of it!"
Her face and nose itched, and she struggled not to shake in fear. If she
sneezed, that violent action would certainly cause her to shatter...
"You can't take it, can you?" he demanded, now smiling in vindictive glee.
"I'll tell you something interesting before you go—about the Elders..."
His lips moved to form his words perfectly, and what he revealed made Fina let
out a strangled gasp.
And, with her guard down, a second later, she inhaled and sneezed.
Her body from the torso up promptly exploded in a rain of tiny shards of glass,
larger chunks dropping to the floor and cracking into dust. Her bottom half
froze into a broken statue while her remains showered down.
And Ramirez laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
Fina shuddered at the memory of the dream. Yet she couldn't help but draw
comparisons from that dream and the conversation that had just transpired.
There came a knock at her door, and she jumped, causing Cupil to make a noise
like a high-pitched hiccup and somersault in mid-air.
"Yes?" she called in a voice higher than usual, and she quickly wiped away her
tears.
"Fina, are you okay?" Aika's concerned voice sounded from the other side of the
door. "A few people told Vyse and me that they heard you crying in here..."
"Is it all right if we come in?" Vyse's voice, equally worried, added.
Fina sat up and wiped at her eyes once more before replying, "Yes, it's okay."
The door opened, and her two first friends entered one after the other, Vyse
shutting the door behind him. Aika quickly crossed the room to sit down on
Fina's bed next to her, and Vyse took the side still empty.
"What's wrong?" the redhead queried, her orange eyebrows furrowed. "You were
definitely crying. What happened?"
"I..." Fina paused, momentarily uncertain in what she should say and how she
should say it. "...I had a talk with Ramirez."
"And he made you cry?!" Aika demanded, getting to her feet in outrage.
Her childhood friend stretched out a hand to silence her, though, and queried
seriously, "What did you two talk about, Fina?"
"I wanted to apologize for being cruel to him, before, and...I wanted to ask
him a few things..." she explained, gazing down at her lap, "...but, no matter
what I said, he still hates me." She paused before speaking of the one thing
that provoked such a violent reaction from her old friend, saying,
"...He's...he's jealous! I think... no... that must be it! Everything he's
endured, he's angry because I haven't suffered, too!"
"Jealous?" Vyse repeated, astounded. "You think so?"
"Hmph! It makes sense!" Aika commented, crossing her arms as she leaned back,
an eyebrow raised. "He is the bitter type." Uncrossing her arms and leaning
forward earnestly, she continued, waving her arms to punctuate her points, "But
Fina, it's not your fault that he got screwed up in the head. If he could've
not met up with the Armada when he first came down here, that would've been
great...but he didn't, and you can't help that. He's lashing out at you because
you're an easy target."
"If you want, I'll talk to him," Vyse added. "I don't know what he said, but if
it was bad enough to make you cry, then he really needs to be put in his
place."
"Thattaboy!" Aika grinned, leaning back, her hands on her hips. "About time you
stopped coddling that jerk, Vyse!"
The captain of the Delphinus grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I have been too
soft on him..." he said. She was right, he conceded to himself. Ramirez had
seemed so depressed, and then there were his own feelings for the former
Admiral thrown in... Altogether, it was very complicated. But if the Silvite
thought he could get away with being rude... Well, that was something else
entirely.
He stood. "Well, I'll take care of that right now, okay, Fina?" the brunet
smiled warmly to his white-robed friend before glancing over to his other
friend. "Aika, you stay here and comfort Fina, okay?"
"Like you need to tell me!" the pigtailed girl winked before sitting back down
next to Fina.
Vyse grinned and winked to both girls before heading for the door and leaving.
When he had gone, the redhead placed a hand on her companion's shoulder.
"...Thank you, Aika," the blonde woman said softly.
"Hey, we're friends," Aika smiled comfortingly, then faltered. "Except I'm not
like Ramirez. I'm not going to turn my back on you." She winked and laughed,
"And neither are any of the rest of us! That's what it means to be a Blue
Rogue!"
Fina nodded, then paused, looking thoughtful. "Aika..." she said, thinking back
once again to the nightmare she had had, "...This might sound strange, but...
do you think dreams mean anything?"
"Huh?" the redhead uttered, blinking. "What do you mean?"
"If you have a dream, I mean. When you sleep," Fina attempted to clarify.
"No, no, I know what you mean, but...what brings this up?" Aika queried,
eyebrow raised.
"Well... I was just thinking about a bad dream I had, and..." Fina said, gazing
down at her lap again.
"Hey, are you talking about the night after Galcian attacked?" her companion
interrogated, understanding beginning to dawn on her. "That night when nearly
all of us had nightmares... You mean then?" When Fina nodded, she glanced down
at her own lap, over which she folded her hands, and murmured, "Hmmm... I
dunno. I hope not... The dream I had was really nasty..."
Fina nodded again, this time sadly. "Mine was...pretty bad, too..."
"What was it about?" Aika asked, glancing at her friend.
Fina glanced up at Aika. "I..." she began, then paused. "I'm not sure I really
want to talk about it," she finished.
The boomerang-slinging girl smiled in understanding. "I really know how you
feel, she sighed, glancing up at the ceiling, thinking about her own dream...
She entered her house, and slammed the door behind her. Sometimes Vyse made
her so mad! "That stupid jerk!" she huffed, infuriated. A joke was a joke, but
dumping a bunch of worms in her hair was going too far! "I'll get him back for
this!"
Taking her hair out of its usual braided state, she continued to fume. She had
already gotten the worms out, but she'd have to wash her hair to get rid of the
dirt.
"Mom! Dad!" she called, finally looking forward at the table that lied just
before the door. She didn't see them there, so she took a few steps forward and
glanced around the corner at the stairs that would lead up to her bedroom and
her parents' bedroom. "Where are you? I need some towels and water! Vyse, you
know what he did? He put worms in my hair! Moom! Daad?!"
Grumbling at the lack of an answer, she huffed upstairs. It was when she
reached the top of the stairs that she noticed it—a very odd smell. It was a
sweet smell, but it nearly made her gag at the same time.
Panic rose unbidden in her, and she called again, "Mom? Dad!?"
There was, like before, no reply, and she ran forward to the door that led to
her parents' bedroom and shoved it wide open.
She immediately staggered back, her eyes watering, forcing herself not to throw
up or faint.
Her parents were lying on their bed...rotting, as if they had been dead for
months.
She tried to scream, but it lodged in her throat, and then, willing herself to
move, to run, to do something, she ran down the stairs. She had to get
help—Vyse, Captain Dyne, someone! Finally reaching the door, she turned the
knob...
Or, rather, tried to. The door was locked.
"No! No!!" she managed to choke out, her less important troubles forgotten,
throttling the knob, then running her shoulder into the door. "Open! Please!
Open!!"
The door, made to be sturdy, did not budge.
"PLEASE!!" she begged, trying her best not to go into hysterics, but there was
still no change. Being practical, she tried for a window next, but they, too,
were locked.
A soft whump behind her grabbed her attention, and turning her head, she
was horrified to see the corpses of her parents shambling down the stairwell.
She screamed, and backing away to the door, tried fruitlessly to once again use
that exit.
"Please... no... stay away..." she croaked, shaking her head in denial of the
reality of the situation.
Wordlessly, the walking dead swayed back and forth, heading towards their
daughter as if somehow drawn to her, the creature that had once been the mother
of the family raising an arm to reach for her.
Aika screamed again hysterically, and looking back and forth frantically, she spied
the chairs around the table, darted over to it, grabbed one, and raised it
protectively between herself and the things that had once been her flesh and
blood.
"Don't come any closer!!" she shrieked, her voice an octave higher than normal.
Her mother, or, more accurately, the thing that had been her mother, swatted
the chair from Aika's hands with inhuman ease.
As the girl stared in horror at the splinters of wood left in her hands, the
two undead things closed in on her...and, their still intact teeth bared, sank
their mandibles into her young flesh. She screamed in agony, and tried vainly
to push them away.
"Mom...! Dad...! It's me!" she screamed in desperation. "It's your daughter!
Please... please... stop!!"
They ignored her, and the being that was once her father knocked her arm away
with fearsome strength, snapping the bone to splinters, and tore away skin,
noisily devouring it. Aika screamed again, but it was no use; her once-mother
did the same, and they both came back for more, forcing her to the floor with
her combined weight.
"Please—please, someone help me—" Aika sobbed, reaching vainly again for the
doorknob. Desperate, she clawed at the door with her remaining arm, still
screaming for help, but it was no use; no one answered her pleas, and her
parents only continued to munch noisily on her flesh. "Please..." she whispered
again, her voice hoarse, "please, please, no... Let me wake up, let this all be
a bad dream..."
As her eyes began to lose focus, she despairingly brushed her fingers against
the door one last time, knowing that even if it opened, it was far too late for
her.
And slowly, with a creak of hinges that need a good oiling, the gateway to
freedom creaked open, the light of the Silver Moon spilling in just before her
eyes could no longer register it.
Aika shivered, and not because of the cold of the Capital of Ice. She'd
woken up choking on her own tears, she remembered, and all too glad that it had
been a nightmare, though not so thrilled at having had it in the first place.
She'd been too afraid to go back to sleep to get any more rest for that night.
She could only barely remember the faces of her parents; they had died when she
had been so young... And her house didn't even have a second floor; where the
bottom of the stairs had been, her bed was in reality. Yet somehow, it had all
seemed utterly natural and real, and that had been the worst part...
"Yeah," she smiled, the gesture a touch forced. "Yeah, let's not talk about
it... Dreams are just dreams, after all! Even bad dreams. They don't have any
other meaning. Gilder was right when he said it was just stress over Galcian
attacking Crescent Isle." She sighed, not truly believing what she was saying
but trying to erase Fina's fear even if she couldn't extinguish her own, and
then smiled again and continued, "It's just our bodies getting rid of our
stress. We shouldn't worry about it too much—especially since we've still got a
long ways to go before everything is over."
"Yes, you must be right, Aika," Fina agreed with a smile that, like the
redhead's, was not completely sincere. "It's just stress." She glanced over at
Cupil, raising a hand to scratch its belly. As it squeaked contentedly, the
Silvite girl continued, "I'm a little nervous about going home tomorrow..."
"It'll be okay," Aika reassured her gently. "We'll go to the Great Silver
Shrine, and one way or another, we'll find out the truth about everything.
Don't worry; Vyse and I will be with you the whole time. Gilder, too!" she
added with a wink and a grin.
Fina smiled back, this time with more feeling, but still added, "And Ramirez."
"Yeah...and Ramirez," Aika nodded, frowning slightly. "Speaking of whom, I
wonder how Vyse is doing with him..."
As she spoke, her captain was walking down the corridor between his room and
his fellow swordsman's. Once the brunet reached Ramirez's door, he lifted a
hand to knock at it, but hesitated. Vyse wanted to be easy on him, but... He
took a deep breath and steeled himself. Ramirez had problems, and he wanted to
help him, but he couldn't let the former Admiral do or say things that would
hurt other people and lower their morale. He was the captain, and
everyone, not just the emotionally disturbed Silvite, was his responsibility.
He couldn't allow abuse like that to continue.
The young captain rapped twice on the door and called, "Ramirez? I want to talk
to you."
His words were greeted with silence, and, a little annoyed, he was about to
call out again when the male Silvite opened the door.
"...Yes?" the white-haired man more stated than asked.
"Did you know that Fina was crying?" Vyse frowned. "From what she told me and
Aika, it looks like it was because of some things you said to her. I want to
talk to you about it. Can I come in?"
Ramirez flicked his gaze to the floor. Of course that was why Vyse was here.
Poor little Fina sheds tears and the whole world suddenly revolves around her
again... It was no use telling Vyse to go away, though. The young rogue could
be incredibly stubborn, and, truth be told, he really didn't have the will to
fight him verbally. So Ramirez just stepped aside and said, "...If you wish."
The Blue Rogue walked inside and the former Admiral shut the door behind him,
then leaned his back against it, head bowed to avoid the gaze of the pirate who
was now glaring at him sternly, fists on his hips.
"Ramirez, I care about you a lot," Vyse began. "But you're not the only
one I care about, and I can't stand by when you're being so heartless that you
make other people cry. I want an explanation of what happened."
His gaze still averted, the green-eyed swordsman sighed slightly, and said,
"She asked me why I hate her. So I told her." It was simple, but it was also
truth enough.
Vyse sighed, shaking his head. "I've heard about that before, so I won't ask
you about it. But I'd think that maybe you'd be willing to cut Fina a little
more slack after she helped to save your life. In any case, I don't know
exactly what you said, but if you made her cry, you obviously went too far. I
want you to apologize to her. I don't want to force you, but I can't have you
wrecking everyone's morale, so if I have to, I will order you, as your
captain."
Ramirez visibly flinched, and balled his left hand into a fist. Anything but
apologize to...to her! But he gave a slight, stiff nod all the same,
knowing he neither had reason nor the will to defy Vyse.
The Blue Rogue noticed both motions, and took a step forward to put a hand on
the other's shoulder, which stiffened upon being touched. "Look, Ramirez," he
began, his demeanor serious. "To tell you the truth, even after you explained
it to me, I don't understand why you hate Fina. It's not her fault she was
treated differently from you. I see this entirely as an attitude problem on
your part. If you make yourself miserable, of course you're going to be
miserable!" Grasping Ramirez's other shoulder firmly, frustrated that the
Silvite still refused to look at him, he continued, "You keep moping, and you
know what? I can't stand it! Even if things that are out of your control
happen, you can still keep charge of your life through your attitude!"
With a slight shake of his head, the former Admiral said quietly, "No, you're
wrong." He wanted to shrug free from the Blue Rogue's grip, but he was in a bad
position to do so. Besides, it was so much easier to just let things happen
than to struggle against them. It was pathetic, he well knew, but he didn't
care anymore. "It's too late..." he murmured, knowing full well that Vyse would
protest to the contrary.
Frustrated, the Air Pirate sighed, and protested, "It's not too late! It's
never too late! No matter where you are, no matter what you've lost, it's never
too late to start over!" Fighting back the urge to try to literally shake some
sense into the Silvite swordsman, he continued, "Saying that it's too
late...that's the same as giving up! How can you expect things to change if you
don't do anything?!"
"I don't," Ramirez said truthfully. He lifted his head, and looked Vyse in the
eyes for the first time before adding, "I've already given up."
"Ramirez..." Vyse whispered, letting go of his shoulders briefly to gaze at him
sadly...then returning his hands there to give in to his desire to shake the
Silvite back and forth, his frustration boiling over into anger.
"Don't—even—JOKE about that!!" the rogue yelled as he did so. "Just STOP IT!!
Dammit, Ramirez!" He stopped and let go, upon which Ramirez fall back against
the door to stare at him wide-eyed, and the rouge shouted passionately, "I'm in
love with you!! Do you have any idea what that means?! There are a lot
of people who probably think really badly of me because I keep you around,
including in my own crew! But you know what?! I don't care what they think!
You're more important to me than opinions people might or might not have! And
that's why..." He threw down his hands in anger. "THAT'S why it hurts so much
when you say things like that!! You sacrificed so much for me. I'm risking so
much for you." Slamming both hands on the door behind Ramirez, an arm on each
side of the Silvite's head, Vyse roared, "Why are you giving up now?!"
The Silvite continued to stare back at him blankly, stunned by the young
captain's outburst. He had never seen Vyse so angry before, even in the early
days when he had despised the pirate. There was something inherently wrong
about seeing the easy-going young man like this, and it awoke for the first
time in days a spark of fear in Ramirez. "Get away from me," he said, not
taking his eyes off of Vyse.
"Were you listening to me at all?!" the brunet demanded, a desperate edge
coming to his voice as his eyebrows began to point up. "Why are you doing this,
Ramirez? If I didn't know better...I'd think you were trying to get me
to hate you."
/It doesn't matter. You'll come to hate me eventually.../ the Silvite
thought to himself morosely. Guilt gnawing at him regardless, he dropped his
head forward, his bangs masking his face, and said nothing.
"Ramirez..." Vyse murmured again, furrowing his eyebrows. He shook his head
sadly and sighed before sliding his arms down around the ex-Admiral's back and
pulling him forward into an unexpected hug. "You idiot..."
As he was pulled into the embrace, the older man made a half-hearted attempt to
break free, but ultimately let himself be held.
/I shouldn't... I shouldn't.../ he berated himself mentally. /I'm
only setting myself up.../
"Rami... just... dammit, why..." Vyse mumbled almost incoherently as he held
the Silvite as tightly as he could. Ultimately, though, he released the
white-haired man and silently stepped back, looking dejected.
Ramirez had been struck by the impulse to hold on when Vyse had begun to pull
back, to return the embrace, but it passed nearly as quickly as it had come. He
had no right to indulge himself. Instead, he turned away, silent with his guilt
and shame.
The young captain watched the green-eyed man for a moment longer before sighing
heavily. "Well..." He gathered himself up and stood straight, looking at
Ramirez with a determined gaze. "I'll back off, if that's what you really want.
But you will apologize to Fina by tomorrow. If you won't respond to
kindness, maybe you'll respond to an order."
His gaze still averted, the silver haired swordsman gave a short nod. "Yes."
Vyse bit back a sigh, filled with frustration, but just shook his head. "Excuse
me," he said as he reached for the door. Ramirez stepped aside wordlessly, and
after the young captain left in silence, frustrated and unhappy, the Silvite
shut his eyes, tilted his face upward, and leaned back, his back thudding
against the wall next to the door. Utterly uncertain of his feelings, he chose
despair as he slowly slid to the floor.
Vyse, in the meantime, walked up the stairs, intending to return to Fina's
room, and when he had reached the door and was about to turn the knob, he heard
a familiar voice called, "Vyse!"
The young captain turned to see Gilder hailing him, smiling good-naturedly,
from the end of the corridor. "I heard that Fina was upset," he continued as he
walked down to join the shorter Air Pirate. "You going to see her now?"
"I already talked to her earlier," Vyse explained, turning to his friend. "It
seems that Ramirez...said some things that upset her."
"Seems like he's the cause of all our problems lately," Gilder observed.
Vyse glanced away silently, his friend's comment not helping his anxiety
concerning the former Admiral. /He sure seems that way.../ he thought
before looking again to the dirty-blond rogue. /Hey, I've talked to Gilder
about this before.../ he recalled, his mental tone rising with hope. /Maybe
I can ask some advice from him again./
So, bearing that in mind, he said, "Hey, Gilder? Speaking of problems...is it
okay if I talk to you? In private? There's some things I'd like to talk about
that I can't exactly discuss with Aika or Fina..."
"Oh?" the trenchcoat-wearing Air Pirate said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Sure, Vyse. How about we head to the meeting room? It should be empty."
"Yeah, that's perfect," Vyse smiled, though not entirely relieved.
The two made their way to the agreed-upon destination, passing the time with
idle chatter, neither of them a fan of silence. They greeted their fellow Blue
Rogues on the way with a friendly enough air, but once they reached the
intended room and had securely shut the door behind them, their respective
manners grew considerably more serious.
"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" the older Air Pirate began,
walking over to the table and picking a comfortable seat.
Following suit, Vyse shut his eyes as he sat down, pausing in thought of how to
begin the discussion. Deciding that the direct route would be best with his
direct friend, the captain of the Delphinus took a deep breath, met Gilder's
gaze, and said, "Gilder... You know what we talked about last time? Well, I
thought about it, and I think I'm bi..."
"Oho! And what brings this up, Vyse?" Gilder said with a slight smirk, already
having an idea of what had triggered it.
"Well, I was thinking..." the brunet muttered, blushing slightly and rubbing
the back of his neck, "...you know, about how I feel about Ramirez..."
With a slight smirk, the taller man questioned, "Is this going where I think
it's going?"
Vyse blushed deeper and inquired back, "...What do you mean?"
"Well, first you tell me you think you're bi, then you tell me you've been
thinking about your feelings for Ramirez," Gilder pointed out, smirk widening.
"What do you think I mean?"
"Well... er... yes," Vyse mumbled, bowing his head in embarrassment.
"Yes what?" Gilder prompted patiently.
The youth paused, then took another deep breath and composed himself. "I...
I've decided that I love him back," he stated, hoping Gilder would take the
news as well as he indicated he would.
He did, although he still raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "Ho... Aika and Fina
aren't going to be too thrilled to hear that. Have you told Ramirez yet?"
Vyse sighed. "Yeah, I did. He doesn't want me near him."
There was a pause as the older Blue Rogue mentally regarded his companion's
statement, a cloud of confusion over his face. "...Wait," he began. "He loves
you...and you tell him you love him back...so he doesn't want you near him? I'm
having trouble understanding that logic."
"That's why I wanted to talk to you," Vyse admitted. "Since we talked earlier,
and I figured you wouldn't be too freaked out..." A touch worried, he added,
"You aren't, are you?"
Gilder shrugged nonchalantly. "I told you before that I have gay friends. Plus,
to be honest, I saw it coming. I had a feeling ever since you talked to me last
time that you'd be coming to me again about this."
Vyse laughed nervously and apologized, "Sorry about burdening you with this
kinda thing."
Gilder waved a hand dismissively and replied, "Don't worry about it, Vyse.
You're not the first friend who's come to me with romance troubles. So, explain
the situation with Ramirez to me."
"Well, I think he thinks I'm just telling him that I love him to make him feel
better," the shorter rogue began.
"I can see where he's coming from," the older pirate mused. "He did
nearly get himself killed for you, so there's reason for you to feel obliged to
him...and it is what he'd want to hear, and you both know that you know
it."
"...Yeah, but I'm not lying!" Vyse protested. "I want him to realize that!"
His companion shrugged. "He needs to figure that out on his own. Just be
yourself, Vyse. He'll clue in when he sees how honest you are."
The captain of the Delphinus sighed heavily. "Yeah, I got you. Well, thanks
anyway."
"That includes not letting stuff like this get you down, Vyse," Gilder added.
"If your crew sees you getting depressed—Ramirez included—they'll get
discouraged too. Not just about this, but about everything you're trying to
do." Showing a quirk of a smile, the gunslinger went on, "You can't have
already forgotten my advice to you, eh? About never giving up, no matter what."
The fire of determination audible in his voice, Vyse replied firmly, "I'm not
giving up. I can't let anyone down, especially not now. And I know what you're
talking about. We might be the only people who are in a position to stop Galcian!"
The red-clad Air Pirate laughed and grinned. "That's the spirit, Vyse! That's
what I wanted to hear you say." He clapped the younger rogue on the shoulder
and continued, "Hell, if you could beat five Gigas and find five Moon Crystals,
break out of Valua's clutches three times, cross the Dark Rift, and sail around
the world—just to name a few things!—then dealing with Ramirez should be a
snap, right?"
Feeling reassured, Vyse smiled back. "Yeah!" He paused in thought, the smile
fading. "...The only problem is, though, he's really unstable, now that I think
of it. I really...don't know how he feels or what he wants anymore. That's a
lot different from all those times when I could depend on everyone else to help
me." He glanced at the floor, his brow creased. "I... I'm not sure if I can
depend on him. I want to. It's just..."
"Heh...that's what happens the crazy ones start falling for you..." Gilder
smirked, crossing his arms. "You know I've got a crazy person after me,
except she's not depressed, just a stalker." He grimaced. "Actually, now that I
think about it, that reminds me of the nightmare I had after Galcian attacked
Crescent Isle..."
"Yeah?" the younger rogue prompted, looking up at his companion.
Gilder frowned slightly. "Well...what the hell, I'll tell you. Only fair, since
you came to me to talk about your problems. See, what happened was..."
The azure of the sky was amazing; it was rare to see a blue that clear and
brilliant. Gilder deeply appreciated days like this, that seemed so perfect
that no matter what you did, the world was on your side—and that was an
excellent thing indeed for the handsome thrill-seeker. The wind was in his
beige hair and the black sails of the Claudia, his men were also in high
spirits, and even Willy was flapping about in a light mood. Dead ahead was a
gorgeous island with lush trees and lavish buildings, where Gilder knew a
fantastic time was awaiting them.
"It's a damn good day to be alive!" he declared, smirking as he leaned forward,
one foot propped up on the bow.
"Rawwwk! Damn good! Damn good! Awwk!" Willy squawked, fluttering onto Gilder's
shoulder.
He grinned at the feathered beast and laughed. "You sure got that right!"
The Claudia quickly closed in on the island, and first off was, naturally,
Gilder himself. However, there was someone there waiting for him—someone he
definitely hadn't been expecting—someone who made a beeline for him as soon as
his feet were on solid ground.
"GILDER, MY LOVE!" Clara cried, flinging herself onto him, her arms around his
neck—much like a noose, the Blue Rogue couldn't help but think.
"Clara!" the wandering pirate gasped in surprise, pulling her away. "Er...I
didn't expect to meet you here!"
She laughed good-naturedly, and latching onto his arm instead, she said, "Oh, darling!
You're so silly sometimes! You always meet me here!"
"Uh...I do?" Gilder uttered, blinking.
"Of course! My love, I've been waiting for you so long..." she replied, pulling
him up to a nearby house, from which a dim roar could be heard, and opening the
door...to be greeted by the source of that cacophany, which was created by a
mess of children, all either screaming, running around, creating havoc, or
harassing one another. The only thing the eight or so of them had in common was
that they were all under the age of twelve, and they all bore a frightening
resemblance to himself and Clara.
Ignoring the look of stunned shock on his face, the female Blue Rogue chirped
happily, "The children and I have missed you so much!" Turning to the spawn
that were threatening to destroy the house from the inside out, she declared
enthusiastically, hearts nearly audible in her voice, "Children, everyone,
look! Daddy's home!"
"......DADDY?!" Gilder repeated, freezing like a mouse transfixed by a snake,
as the herd of children abruptly turned their collective attention to the two
adults, and promptly stampeded towards them, screeching joyously.
"DADDY, DADDY, YOU'RE HOME!!" they yelled at various tempos, rates, and
pitches, tackling the would-be free-spirited pirate, crawling over him, groping
his clothes as if in search of presents. "WHADJA BRING ME?! WHADJA BRING ME?!!"
"Oh, they're so rambunctious!" Clara smiled down at her lover, who was trying
unsuccessfully to rise to his feet, then added slyly, "Of course, they get that
from you, Gilder darling... You've always been so full of
energy..."
Her tone making it abundantly clear that she wasn't referring to anything
innocent, Gilder managed to at least sit upright and demand, "What are you
talking about?!"
"Darling, you kidder!" she laughed. "You know as well as I know that we've been
married for the past twelve years and had these eight beautiful children!"
Clasping her hands together and holding them to her face, she cooed, "Why, it
seems just like yesterday when you swept me off my feet and declared that you
couldn't live without me and had to have me..." Blushing, she
giggled, "Oh, what am I talking about, right in front of the children! But don't worry, Gilder love, once we've got
a few moments alone, I'll make you feel young and frisky again!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," the child-laden Blue Rogue
politely refused her offer before bursting out of his worst nightmare, back
into the waking world.
"...and that's why I—Vyse, stop laughing, dammit!!" Gilder snapped,
annoyed at the younger rogue pounding a fist on the table, his chest heaving
with merriment.
Vyse did his best to reign in his mirth, and after a moment, he was reduced to
mere grins and snickers. Gilder, scowling, was not amused, and the captain of
the Delphinus at length settled himself down enough to say sheepishly, "Sorry,
sorry. But she's a nice person. I don't understand why you're so afraid of
her!"
The shades-wearing pirate made a face of disgust. "She comes on too strong! She's
all right when she's not hanging on my arm, trying to drag me into a marriage
hall. I'll settle down when I'm ready for it, and not a damn moment sooner!"
The brunet grinned and winked. "Maybe you should just tell her that!"
Gilder simply rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we've got a lot to do tomorrow, so we'd
better get what we can done now. Oh yeah, and that reminds me..."
"Yeah?" Vyse smiled.
"Back on Crescent Isle, we agreed to leave Ramirez on the Great Silver Shrine,"
the older rogue reminded the young captain. "What are we doing instead, now
that you've figured out that you love him?"
Vyse's smile faded away, and he hesitated. "I... I'm not sure. He won't be safe
up there, and...he told me he'd rather die than have to go back and stay
there..."
"He's sure got a preoccupation with dying..." Gilder commented. "All right.
We'll figure it out after we go, all right?"
The brown-eyed Air Pirate nodded. "Uh-huh."
They parted ways, and Vyse, heading upstairs, began to muse on his senior's
words. /...Ramirez... Gilder's advice makes sense. I don't know how to help
you, especially since I'm not sure if I can even rely on you, but still, I have
to do what I can./ He glanced up, passing by a set of beautifully set
windows, and meandered over to them to lean on the windowsill and gaze outside.
/Just try to hang in there. I know things are tough, I really do. I'll
be there for you, no matter what. That's the only way I can reach you, after
all, isn't it? I have to show you I really mean it when I tell you I care...that
I love you. If I can mend your heart, I'll do anything. That's how much you
mean to me. As soon as I give up on you, it'll be all over.../
The brunet smiled to himself. /So I have to persevere, no matter how
difficult you make it. If I gave up from just this little bit, how could I
convince you of how I really feel? Heh.../ He sighed slightly, leaning his
head forward to lean on the glass. /If we could just go back to those
days when we were that close...I wouldn't be so blind!/ He shook his head suddenly,
frowning, and chastised himself, /No, thinking like this is no good.
I'll just have to keep trying. At least—at least—Ramirez isn't dead. As
long as you can still breathe, there's still plenty of chances to start over.
At least Ramirez didn't fall to Galcian's blade.../
The goggle-wearing rogue recalled the horrifying dream and was hard put to
suppress a shiver...
Vyse was running at top speed, cutlasses out, down a labyrinth of cold,
steel corridors. Left, right, right, left, straight, left, straight, left... He
didn't know how he knew the way, but he followed it without question, knowing
that time was of the essence, and that if he didn't reach his destination,
Ramirez's life would be forfeit—another thing he knew without being strictly
conscious of how he knew.
He continued to run, before finally taking a turn that put him face to face
with a steel door. Sheathing one blade, he pulled at the handle, but it didn't
budge. Frantically, for he knew, somehow, that this was the door he needed to
pass through, he sheathed his other cutlass and pulled as hard as he could with
both hands. Slowly, the heavy door creaked open, and he quickly slipped through
the threshold.
It was dark. He fumbled for a light, but there didn't seem to be one, and so he
strode cautiously into the blackness of the room.
Behind him, the door closed with a loud bang, and at that instant, Vyse's legs
gave way. He collapsed to the floor, and when he attempted to stand, he was
startled to discover that he could not. With an annoyed grimace, he placed one
hand in front of his knees, intending to brace himself so he could try again.
Instead, that hand met a pool of some liquid in front of him. The liquid was
warm, and Vyse, dread beginning to knot in his chest, brought his hand up to
smell the fluid.
That metallic scent could only be blood.
"Ramirez?!" he managed to call, and a light slowly came on to illuminate the
Silvite's fallen body, and above it, Galcian, standing with his sword dripping
crimson in hand.
The Grand Admiral glanced over at Vyse and smirked. "So you've arrived at last,
Air Pirate," he chuckled. "It seems you're a little late... But no matter. I'll
show you something interesting..."
"No...!" Vyse screamed, and tried desperately to stand, but his body would not
obey, and he cried, "No... Get away from him!"
Galcian was easily heaving Ramirez's corpse up by the neck as the rogue spoke,
however, and the Silvite hung limply from his grip, blood pouring from the deep
gash on his chest. As Vyse looked on in horror, though, the former Admiral
lifted his gaze ever so slightly—and their eyes met.
Ramirez was still alive.
Vyse's heart skipped a beat. If...if he could still save the dying man...
And, gritting his teeth in fierce determination, he tried to stand once more.
His determination was meaningless, however, when nothing happened. It was as if
his body had turned to stone, fixed in place, making him unable to as much as
look away. All he could do was beg fruitlessly for the Grand Admiral to stop as
the butchery began.
The first to go was the Silvite's right arm, then the legs from the knees down,
then the legs from the hips down. An eye was crushed, gore bleeding from the
socket in a scarlet mockery of tears, and finally the head itself was cut off,
the river of life that flowed to it transformed in an instant into a massive,
spraying geyser.
Galcian was laughing by the end, while Vyse was trying not to empty the
contents of his stomach. "Ramirez was such a wonderful puppet," the Grand
Admiral commented leisurely as he let the body drop, its pieces scattered. With
a swift slice, the left hand came off, and the Silver Crystal hidden within it
appeared, its radiating brightness swallowed up by the darkness as it entered
Galcian's hand. "So loyal... All I needed to do was wish it, and he would do
anything to make that wish a reality. But then he met you, and you broke
him..." He shook his head in mock sorrow. "A pity. A great pity... But at least
he serves me well, even after death." He wrapped his fingers around the
glittering Crystal, hiding its light further, and smirked. "And his life as a
toy has not yet been entirely spent."
Heaving with grief and horror, the young rogue was only able to utter a choked
dry of despair, tears flooding down his cheeks.
And despite how horrible the scene was, he couldn't look away. He wasn't
altogether sure if it was because he couldn't or because he wouldn't. As it
was, despite how Vyse loathed him, the presence of the Grand Admiral and the
power he wielded was almost intoxicating...
"Look," Galcian was saying, his voice nearly a purr of glee. "You should know
what a high-quality toy Ramirez is. Even if I tear him to pieces—look...I can
just reassemble him as I please."
The scene was a blur, but the Blue Rogue could well see Ramirez, his head
connected again with his neck, but his eye still missing, and his
limbs...reconnected, but...
"Ah, I made a mistake," Galcian laughed, regarding the chains that now attached
Ramirez's limbs to his extremities, replacing his knees and elbows with heavy
iron links that traveled up into the vermillion gore of his partially
re-attached thighs and upper arms. His left hand connected to the stump to
where the elbow should have been, the chain so long it reached all the way to
Vyse, the hand twitching ever so slightly at his knees. "He didn't reassemble
properly... Ah well. This form is quite amusing in its own right, anyway..."
Finally finding his voice, the young captain screamed hoarsely, "STOP IT! Why?!
Why are you doing this?! JUST STOP IT!!"
"Why? Because I can," Galcian replied, smirking. "And because no matter what I
do, Ramirez will adore me for it. He's already convinced that I'm the savior of
this world..." He laughed cruelly. "In some ways, he's still as much the naive
fool as he was when I met him. But as long as his skills and talents can be
used to further my ambitions—well, I don't mind at all. Besides, once a doll is
broken, it can't be fixed. Why not have some last fun with it before you
discard it, hmmm?"
These words only served to enrage the young pirate, and his voice still
cracking with grief, he managed to say, "No... you're wrong... you... you just
can't do that to people...! You're...not human! You're a...a...monster!!"
The Grand Admiral shrugged callously, still smirking. "I've been called worse.
But you seem so upset by Ramirez's passing on... What's to be sad about? In the
end, he's not worth anything beyond what he can offer others—myself in
particular. Ah well... Since you seem so attached to him, you can have him. Here."
And with that, he picked Ramirez, still motionless, staring with his remaining
eye half-lidded, and tossed the meat doll over in front of Vyse, laughing the
entire time.
He tried to reach out for Ramirez and found that he could move, his arms at
least. Pulling the Silvite's body into his arms, the young pirate began to
weep, shaking with grief. He looked up then with tears staining his cheeks to
glare at Galcian with a look of utter hatred, and if it weren't for the fact
that he still could not stand, he would have tried to kill him.
Instead, he said, his hatred overcoming his sorrow, "Why...did you do it?
Why...did you kill him? ...Why did you kill him?!" He bowed his head, gritting
his teeth and hissing, "He looked up to you more than anyone else! It was agony
for him, trying to choose between you and me! And you..." He raised his head
and his tone and snarled, "You murdered him!!!"
"He was tainted," Galcian replied easily, letting the blood drip off of his
blade. "It's better to destroy a pet like that than let it suffer.
Besides...you're the one who broke him to begin with. If you had never abducted
him from the Grand Fortress to begin with, this would have never happened." He
smirked. "How like a lowly Air Pirate, trying to pass the blame that rightfully
belongs to himself..."
"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Vyse screamed, clutching Ramirez's body protectively.
"THAT'S NOT TRUE!!"
But Galcian just laughed and sheathed his massive sword, then turned his back
to them both and walked off, disappearing into the pitch, the faint light of
the Silver Crystal fading away along with him.
"STOP!!" the enraged rogue cried after him. "You can't...!"
But his cries went unanswered. He gazed downwards at them maimed swordsman in
his arms, and his tears started anew.
He had been too late... He hadn't been strong enough...
"...I just...wanted to protect you..." he whispered to the still man.
Ramirez's head stirred slightly then, and Vyse, sensing the motion, stared with
bated breath and tear-filled eyes at the silver-haired man in his arms, his
remaining green eye rolling up to stare at him, his eyelids still at half mast.
His lips began to move, and Vyse eagerly leaned in to listen.
"What is it?" the young brunet whispered. "What is it, Ramirez?"
"...w...d...a...r...e...y...o...u...s...p...e...a...k...t...h...a...t...w...a...y...t...o...l...o...r...d...g...a...l...c...i...a...n..."
And, having been too intent on catching the former Admiral's every word, Vyse
never noticed the chained left hand until it was already gripping his throat,
viciously trying to choke the life from him.
"—Wh—why?" he managed to get out, staring helplessly down at Ramirez, who was
glaring at him in utter, baleful hatred with his one good eye, blood oozing
from the other empty socket down his face, matting onto his hair and staining
Vyse's clothes. Frantic, he reached up with one hand, trying to pry the
Silvite's hand from his throat, and managed to loosen Ramirez's grip. Sucking
in air, Vyse managed to protest, "I was...I was trying to protect you!! Galcian
didn't care about you at all! He was laughing when he was cutting you apart!!"
"...i...t...i...s...h...i...s...r...i...g...h...t..." the Silvite uttered
slowly, trying to wrap his hand around Vyse's throat once again.
"No! Ramirez, please!! Nobody has the right do turn you into this!!" the
Blue Rogue pleaded as soon as he made sense of the vocal message, grabbing the
chain sprouting from the bone jutting out of Ramirez's left hand and pulling to
little avail. "Why?! Are you listening to yourself at all?! Are you listening
to him at all?! How can you side with someone who only thinks of you as
a tool?! I love you! I LOVE YOU!!!" Unable to stop his tears from
falling again, he screamed, "How can you kill someone who loves you over
someone who said you're no more than a doll?!"
Ramirez only blinked once with his remaining eye and mouthed once more,
"...i...l...i...v...e...o...n...l...y...t...o...s...e...r...v...e...l...o...r...d...g...a...l...c...i...a...n..."
One more desperate tug on the chain pulled the Silvite's hand from his throat,
but the fingernails caught on the fabric of his blue jacket, and the hand
immediately grabbed onto Vyse's clothes.
Their gazes met again in that instant, Vyse's panicked, Ramirez's crazed...and
then the Blue Rogue choked on his own blood, coughing up a haze of red, as the
fingers pierced his chest, cracking ribs and flesh out of the way to burrow
inside, ripping past a lung to seize his heart, fingernails burrowing inside
the cardiac muscle, the iron fetters clanking gently as they now protruded from
Vyse's body.
"Rami..." the brunet man managed to gasp in pain and shock as he looked down at
Ramirez. He spasmed uncontrollably, blood now running free from the corner of
his mouth, as he felt the Silvite's hand close around his frenzied beating
heart.
The only thing he could see on Ramirez's face was utter hatred. That hatred
warped into a delirious smile, one of a servant finally accomplishing something
sure to please his master, and digging his nails in further, the meat doll wrenched
his hand back, ripping Vyse's heart in twain, the outer half still clutched
like a trophy in the chained extremity.
Vyse gurgled, convulsing horribly, and then he had been suddenly gasping,
sitting straight up in bed.
He had never been so terrified...but it wasn't Ramirez's fault! Galcian... he
had warped him, hadn't he? He had cut him to pieces and then...turned him into
some kind of sick marionette...
That wasn't the Ramirez he knew!
Vyse let loose a ragged sigh, recalling how he had tried to work off the
trauma of the nightmare by transforming his fear into fury. He had to wonder
what the real Ramirez would say if he told him about that night
terror...
...But, no. It was better to just keep it to himself. He didn't want to burden
him. He would probably take it wrong, anyway... Ramirez, after all, had
over-translated a declaration of love to mean nothing but pity.
The Blue Rogue sighed again, leaning against a window and gazing outside down
at the sheet of clouds blocking his view of Deep Sky. Things had...gotten very
complicated. What was that saying again? Something about the best laid plans...
The brunet lad just smiled wistfully and shook his head. Much as the ex-Admiral
was trying to make him regret it, he wouldn't give up that easily. Giving up
was something Vyse avoided on principle, and besides, if he let things go this
soon, this easily, it would cheapen what both of them felt. That was the last
thing he wanted to do.
"But Moons, Ramirez...why can't you listen to me when I try to tell you what
you mean to me..." he mumbled before pushing away from the wall, knowing that
there was still work to which he had to attend.
NOTES: We own nothing except our ideas. Don't take our ideas. All
properties of Skies of Arcadia/Eternal Arcadia
[Legends] belong to everyone it is to whom they belong.
Ayu: At last, Michaol, who got vaguely hinted at last chapter, actually
appears. If you want to see what he looks like, check out my deviantART
account, ayu-ohseki.deviantart.com;
there's also a drawing of Hahaue there.
Ianthe: The base ideas for Aika and Fina's dreams are from Morrowind.
Check out the vampire dreams. Weee.
Ayu: Gilder's dream, on the other hand, isn't based on anything in
particular.
Ianthe: Yes, his is completely humorous in nature; this chapter needed a
bright moment. And, although I hate how we have to say this, the dream wasn't
meant to bash Clara, or children, or whatever. We just think that being married
to Clara with eight children would be Gilder's worst nightmare—unless he
goes through some major attitude readjustment.
Ayu: Vyse's dream was inspired—the "meat doll" part, anyway—by a
Japanese Yuu*Gi*Ou Bakura/Bakura Loveless fansite by the name of Eigou
Kaiki (Eternal Recurrence). And speaking of the meat doll, here's Kinzoku's
comment on that...
Kinzoku: (*as Galcian*) HAPPY THANKSGIVING. (*carves the Ramirez*)
Ayu: We are sick, evil bastards. :D Be sure to tell us if you get/got
nightmares! (*heart mark*)
Ayu: This chapter's lyric-title is taken from Anna ni Issho datta
noni (Although We Were Together That Much), the first ending theme
to Kidou Senshi Gundam SEED. Full lyrics can be found, as always, at my
lyrics site, Campus Lyrics!, the link to which you can (indirectly) find
below.
Contact deep.Indigo: deep.Indigo@negativenergy.zzn.com
Contact Ianthe of d.I: ianthefira@rangersgrove.zzn.com
(URL: Ranger's Grove (rangersgrove.tripod.com))
Contact Ayu of d.I: ensoph@goddess.zzn.com
(URL: ~ T H E : E T E R N A L : M I N D ~ (theeternalmind.sterlingsylver.net))
