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Wow. Do people actually like this story? I thought everyone hated…ah, what am I saying? Thanks for the reviews, all you lovely people! To uphold my end of the deal, I'll attempt to finish this story before the Suikoden III craze dies.
And since I don't know when that would be, I guess I'll just have to finish it the way I can. Of course, I keep getting distracted all the time (so many good writers out there!), but I'll try to keep the wandering to a minimum.
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Borus was dreaming.
Nothing else could explain it.
In spite of everything, colors didn't suddenly spring up from what they originally covered to form a rainbow haze in front of him in normal everyday conscious life, right? Because if they did, Borus could have sworn it had never happened to him before. He would have sworn as well, since he would give his left kidney to see that. And he still had both kidneys, unless there had been a battle where he wouldn't have noticed his entrails hanging out of his belly.
Borus liked pretty colors, after all.
They were so pretty.
He stared at the moving and flashing mist, his wonder erasing all thoughts of doubt and confusion. It was beautiful. Suddenly, he found himself covered with darkness, not a single color in sight. Just inky shadows and dark opaque waters.
No!
Fire suddenly burst into existence in the darkness, and Borus found himself drawn toward it. His hands reached out and from his hands burst wild rays of color, chasing away the darkness and enveloping his awareness…
"How in the blazes did he become a knight in the first place?" A voice charged into his attention, an unwelcome interruption to the rainbow spewing from Borus' fingers.
Borus stopped momentarily, pausing from his amazement and fascination to feel surprise and dread. What was this?
This was a dream. He knew that now. But what kind of a dream was this? With an ill feeling in his heart, he gazed at the colors again, waiting for them to disappear to be replaced by the darkness again, or possibly a monster instead, waiting to devour him to possibly chase him off a cliff or two.
Because any dream that had even fragments of Leo in it, even the (not-so) mere sound of his voice, was bound to turn into some horrible, sheet-wetting nightmare sooner or later.
"It appears that he will not wake up," came a clinical observation.
Roland?
All right. Borus sighed and braced himself. This was definitely a nightmare. Having one of them penetrate his dreams was bad enough, but two…it would leave his nerves frayed for the rest of the week. Borus predicted long, insomniac and unblinking nights of tossing, turning and praying for his health.
"Try something else." It was Salome's voice.
Holy Goddess! Borus began to panic. He could expect nothing less—this was going to be the nightmare of all nightmares…
But before Borus could brood over the loss of his night's peaceful sleep and worry about the next few nights' insomnia, he was suddenly hauled upright by a hard gauntleted hand. He let out a cry of pain and his eyes flew open.
Leo let go of him roughly and nodded. "It worked. He's awake."
Borus' arm throbbed painfully and he rubbed it, feeling dizzy. After all, he was just jolted up from a beautiful dream, even if it did turn sour in the end.
Leo, Salome, and Roland were crowded around his bed, blocking everything else from his view. They were watching him coolly.
"What did you do that for?" Borus growled angrily, feeling the marks of Leo's gauntlet on his bruised arm.
"We could ask you the same, Borus," Salome said flatly. "Why don't you go first?"
"Is this some kind of joke?" Borus demanded, glaring at them. "Because if it is, I'd prefer it if you got to the punch line now so I can go back to sleep. Or if you just saved all the jokes for later. Preferably in the afternoon."
"We couldn't wait that long," Leo replied tetchily. "You'd have made up enough petty lies to cover your back by then."
Borus looked at him, startled. Leo's voice was soft and deadly. He looked almost…angry. Something was amiss with him. Borus frowned in concern. "Is there something wrong, Leo?" he asked, deciding to forget that it was Leo who gave him what looked like it was going to be a major bruise. "I mean, you didn't burst in here just to remind me to lock my door before sleeping, right?"
"Already the lies pour out," Roland noted coldly. "Young Borus is surprisingly fast this morning—perhaps his morning lethargy is pretended as well. Or he had planned well last night. Bravo, Borus. Bravo."
"What?" Borus was thoroughly confused. "I'm lying? About what?"
It was too early for this guessing game. Half of Borus' mind was still trapped on the brilliant spectrum he had been making in his dream. It didn't help that the other half was laden with puzzlement at his comrades' confusing words and with dull pain at the darkening bruise on his arm.
He looked toward the window and saw Lady Chris sitting on a chair. Her face was turned resolutely to the window. Louis stood beside her, his expression of sorrow increasing Borus' bewilderment—Louis never lost the smile on his face.
"Lady Chris," he pleaded. "Would you tell me what is going on?"
Her face tightened and she didn't look at hi, keeping her face firmly turned away.
"Don't bother the Captain," Leo grunted. "She has no reason to listen to you."
"What?" Borus' asked in perplexity. "Why not?"
"Stop playing around, Borus!" Salome burst out, exasperated. "Do not pretend ignorance in the face of this grave matter."
"Ignorance about what? Will someone please tell me? What is going on?" Borus shot back in the same manner, feeling irritated and, at the same time, upset. They were treating him as though he had done something horrible. They had forgiven him for lying about Karaya already—but maybe it wasn't enough.
'You deserve it,' whispered a nasty little voice in his head. 'Murderer. If they're here to sentence you on Karaya, then you deserve it.'
He clenched his fist. No. They had forgiven him. And everything had gone back to normal—except for the festering wound inside him. He was an animal—they villagers were unarmed! And he killed them! All of them!
He was forgiven by the Zexen knights, accepted once again. But what about Grassland?
"—Are you listening, Borus?" Salome snapped.
"He must be hung over by large amounts of alcohol," Roland commented, looking at Borus with something akin to disgust on his face. "His servants have told me that he had spent last night in his wine cellar. Although they believe that he had done nothing—they seem to think that it was innocent."
Salome looked thoughtful. "That may be it. In any case, the blame still lies with him."
He had done something? Borus had a feeling, all of a sudden, that it wasn't about Karaya. But he hadn't done anything deserving blame since. His mind refused to work. What was happening?
"For what? What blame?" Borus asked weakly, feeling like a stringless puppet. "What wrong have I done?" His eyes sought Lady Chris' again, but her face was still turned away from him. His eyes shifted to Louis' and he saw pity.
"He's asking what wrong he's done," Leo said incredulously, laughing shortly. "Can you believe that? Ha!"
"Tell me, Borus," Salome commanded. "Do you truly believe that you have done no wrong in driving Percival away? Can you tell me that forcing him out of the Knighthood is nothing serious?"
"Driving Percival away," Borus repeated, feeling dumbfounded and strangely numb. "You think that I…" He didn't understand anything. His mind ceased all functions, revolving around Salome's words.
"Don't deny it!" Leo hissed angrily. "Don't tell us that he went here last night just to chat and maybe have a drink, then suddenly, the next day, he files in his resignation, leaving behind his sword and his shield, then he leaves Vinay del Zexay without telling anyone!"
It finally cleared up for Borus. "You think that I forced Percival to leave," he stated skeptically, feeling slightly hysterical. "You think I drove him away." He did laugh, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. "Why would I do that?"
"That is precisely what we would like to know," Roland said calmly. "I believe we have been repeating the point over and over again, though you must already know what you have done. Do be obliging enough to inform us."
Borus let out a short laugh again. "Don't tell me that you think I would actually do that." He felt his hysteria growing. They believed that he wanted Percival out of the Knighthood??? "In case you hadn't noticed," Borus continued, a hint of steel in his voice, "Percival is my friend. What reason would I have to—?"
"You care nothing for his friendship!" Leo interrupted, slamming his gauntleted hand against the bed's foot post. "He was your rival for Lady Chris, so you wanted to get rid of him! Your selfishness impelled him to run away!"
"Rival?" Borus echoed blankly. "For Lady Chris?" He blinked. "You're not serious, right? You aren't telling me that you believe, like everyone else in this small world, that I am in love with Lady Chris, are you?" He laughed again, disbelievingly. "Because I'm not."
"It is too late for you to pretend otherwise, Borus," Salome told him flatly. "Not when your jealousy has run its course with Sir Percival."
A little part of his mind noted that his formal title hadn't been used for some time but he ignored it, the hysteria growing inside him pushing it aside.
"You can't be serious!" Borus protested desperately. "Because I'm not! Percival left because he wanted to! And I'm not in love with Lady Chris. She's my Captain!"
Why was everyone so intent on smashing him with Lady Chris? Borus couldn't believe it. Why him? Of all the people, why him?
"You cannot expect us to believe that," Roland stated in his bland voice.
Borus dragged his heavy gaze to the lady in question. "Tell them, milady," he begged, hating the obvious pain in his voice. "Tell them that I am not in love with you. Tell them that I would never do anything so dishonorable."
There was silence in the room as everyone waited for her response. Borus saw that the others were uncertain as well. Hope flared up within him. Lady Chris would tell them that there was absolutely no reason for Borus to be in love with her and they would all apologize to each other. Then Borus would send a very long letter to wherever Percival had gone.
But as the silence stretched, Borus' newfound hope began to deflate slightly. "Milady?" he repeated, feeling his heart sink to the floorboards. "Please…"
Lady Chris closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, turning to look at him at last. Borus stared at her, begging silently. They would listen to her.
She took a deep breath. "I do not know what is really going on." Her face was expressionless, but her hands were clasped tightly together. "I do not know whether anyone's theory has any true ring to it as well." Her expression hardened. "But I know that I would be a fool to believe a liar."
Borus' heart stopped beating for one awful moment and he stared, the air vanishing from his lungs. His eyes were wide and his grip on the blankets clenched in his fist died all of a sudden.
Lady Chris continued, "We trusted you at the beginning—then you lie to us when you slaughter innocent and unarmed Karayans. Eventually, your guilt consumed you, you say, and thus you confess to us on the blood on your hands. And we forgive you, we trust you again." She narrowed her eyes, trying to hide her own separate pain, but Borus saw this as well. She was hurting over her murder of the Karayan child as well. His heart went out to her, even though it had ceased beating and even though she was the cause of its stillness. "Percival is gone now. Never again," she whispered. "Never again."
Borus' heart slowly began to beat again, and each life-giving pulse was painful. His gaze refused to leave her, though, and he stared, trying to understand what she said. Never again… what did that mean? Trust?
'Percival,' he thought dully. 'You should have let them know why…'
"You do not trust me," he murmured and hated how his voice sounded so broken and beaten. The feeling returned the power to his hands and he clenched his fists so tightly that his nails gouged deeply into his flesh. Pain sparked through his palms, but he didn't care. He forced his voice to become toneless and clinical. "You question my honor."
"You have no honor." Leo moved, blocking him from the Captain. "You lost it a long time ago."
Borus closed his eyes, feeling strangely empty inside. "No…" he murmured, lowering his head. He understood everything, all of a sudden. Why Leo was so furious. Although their ages weren't that very far, Leo treated Percival like a son. They were close, always being assigned to each other, as they were incredibly capable together. Borus as well would have been down the throat of anyone who would have affronted Percival.
He understood the Lady Chris as well. He didn't know whether she also suspected him of being in love with her, but he understood that she as well was hurting over the Karayan boy she had killed. She may have forgiven him, but she hadn't forgiven herself.
And now none of them trusted him.
He opened his eyes and raised them, although they stared at nothing. A small sad smile flitted over his face. "It is not that which I have lost. Something far more infinitely precious." He closed his eyes again, feeling empty.
"It is gone now."
**********
They took him to the Guild Hall to meet with the Council, giving him hardly enough time to get dressed. Once there, an impromptu trial took place and eventually, the Council suspended Borus from his shield and sword for until they thought up a better punishment for him.
Borus had a feeling that the Council members weren't quite awake yet—normally they were quite eager to dole out punishment, always pulling out the most creative penalties right out of their fancy ruffled sleeves.
Not that he minded. It wasn't his intention to remind them of that.
That the symbols of his Knighthood were being stripped away from him, even temporarily, were more than enough punishment to him, made worse by his complete blamelessness. Though this was generally a rather serious reprimand, he didn't care.
He didn't feel anything, really. He supposed it was as though his mind had been plunged into a barrel of icy water. He was still partly in shock and disbelief about the events, but a large part of him was filled with grief:
They thought him without honor. They didn't trust him. They believed the worst of him. His comrades were condemning him for something he had no control over.
That was probably what launched his thoughts into the numb haze. He was watching everything, feeling very detached, although he still remembered enough to defend himself.
Of course, they didn't believe him.
"Sir Percival was one of our best and most honorable knights—he wouldn't leave the Knighthood without a formal presentation merely to chase some woman for his bed," the Council had said haughtily and repeatedly with very little variation—they weren't the pioneers of original thought, Borus decided after hearing the phrase several times over.
And they seemed quite ready to forget that this could describe Borus as well. In the deadened state Borus was in, he calmly determined that they were indeed missing their sleep.
Or maybe they were always like this, conveniently forgetting certain details to appear conscientious. He had once heard that clear consciences were obvious signs of a bad memory and this quite justified the statement.
By the end of the day, it was strongly suggested by the Council that he take an extended vacation from his duties preferably to return some time after the sun set in the east. Borus wondered whether he should be glad of this or not. Even if he had secured the right to remain a shield-less knight in Vinay del Zexay, nothing could return his life to the way it was.
For one thing, Percival had gone off questing after his dream girl. Whether Borus liked it or not, Percival was always in his life, meddling here and there with a suave debonair smile on his face and women littered at his feet.
For another, his friends hated him. Or, at least, didn't like him very much and preferred his absence to his presence. That was the decisive point of his agreement to leave, Borus reasoned out. After all, what, other than his collection of pretty wine bottles, anchored him down to Vinay del Zexay aside from the friends he had loved? What reason was there for him to remain?
He could leave. Redrum manor would still belong to him and his wine cellar would still be there, provided he kept up a good security. His retainers were faithful to his family and paid well even in his absence, so it was no big deal for him to be away from his estate for long amounts of time.
Once it occurred to Borus, he knew it was his next course of action. Staying in Vinay del Zexay would mean occasionally happening upon his friends and being reminded repeatedly that their comradeship was simply one-sided. And that would hurt, Borus knew. In fact, it hurt right now, merely thinking about it.
Besides, it was about time for him, anyway. He had been thinking of going on a journey prior to all the emotional turmoil. He still needed atonement for Karaya. The Captain's forgiveness—now nonexistent—wasn't enough. His comrades' acceptance—now gone—wasn't enough. It was time for him to take matters into his own soiled hands.
Sighing slightly at the turn of events but not resenting the other knights for hating him, Borus walked back up the streets of Vinay del Zexay, heading home after the longest and most emotionally-bruising day of his life. He had a big day ahead of him, though not as long and painful—hopefully. He hadn't traveled alone for a long time. He always had the Six's company with him.
Now he didn't even have One's.
But it wasn't a time to feel sorry for himself. No. Borus understood that this had been a long time coming and that he needed to leave—to go where, he didn't quite attain the level of recognition his resolution to leave had, but he knew he couldn't stay. Not in a place where everyone hated him.
It wasn't running away. At least, Borus hoped it wasn't. He would have gone off eventually, anyway. He had been putting it off, but he supposed that it couldn't wait any longer.
And he realized that it was true—he felt no resentment or bitterness of any sort towards the ones he could have entrusted his life upon. He himself would have intensely hated anyone who would have forced Percival away. So it was understandable that the others projected such animosity toward him.
Understandable but regrettable. It had pained him to see them so ready to turn him away. For no particular reason, his mind conjured up an image of the Lady Chris, sitting on that chair with the sunlight filtering through her hair that morning. She was beautiful, even in her stony silence.
Puzzled to why he thought of her and uncertain about the stabbing pain in the general vicinity of his heart, he shook his head, deciding not to think of her. He regretted her distrusting him, but he in no way blamed her, for some reason.
As he moved toward his street, the people who he had sworn to protect and the people who once waved cheerily at him threw him dirty glances. Once, someone went even as far as to throw an egg at him. Borus had taken a look at the not-feeling-quite-guilty person and recognized him as the boy Borus had helped out from being bullied on.
So much for gratitude.
He knew they were angry that Percival was gone. The people of the Capital looked up to him and the children and teenagers (not to mention all the ladies) loved Percival.
It didn't seem to occur to them that they used to love Borus, as well. They were all too ready to hate him. Once again, the phrase that stated that a clear conscience was a sign of a bad memory occurred to Borus again. He wondered who was had penned the saying. Well, whoever he was, another for his side.
Emotionally detached and feeling devoid of emotion aside from a slight brooding under layer, he walked up the drive at Redrum manor silently, lost in thought. As he uncertainly traversed the misty pathways of his mind, he did not notice the boy who sat alone on his doorstep.
Louis, however, was more alert and had less depressing things on his mind. He stood up and waved at the young man. "Sir Borus!"
Borus looked up, barely managing to keep his balance on the cobblestone his foot was teetering on, and saw the Captain's squire waving and smiling worriedly at him. He blinked. "Louis?" he asked doubtfully.
"Are you all right, Sir Borus?" the lad asked anxiously. "You must have had a horrible day."
Borus looked at him, tired and cautious. "That's a horrendous understatement," he replied wearily. "Now tell me if you are hiding a rotten egg or some other explosive fruit behind your back and I'll tell you that if you really had wanted to be the first to throw something at Sir Borus, Peterson already got quite a headstart on you."
"No, of course I wouldn't!" he said, looking shocked. "Why would I do that?" Louis held out his hands. "See? No eggs."
Louis was carrying a cloth bundle in his arms. Since there didn't appear to be any egg shapes or figures of other produce projectiles, Borus stepped closer and saw that it was a rather lovely wool cloak.
"What is this, Louis?" Borus asked, quite confused. "And why are you here, if not to declare my traitorousness to the Capital with an egg yolk?"
Louis' eyes became serious. "I don't want you to leave, Sir Borus," he said simply. "You're my friend. And I don't believe that you'd ever do anything to make Sir Percival leave. You and he are too good friends."
Borus smiled, feeling the sadness inside him for the first time. "You and I seem to be the only ones in the whole of Vinay del Zexay who see that."
"So why don't you stay?" Louis asked, frowning. "You didn't do anything wrong, and you're blameless. So why go?"
Borus laughed softly. "Oh, I know I'm innocent—or at least, I have given Percival no reason to leave." His laughter died and he looked away, staring at the sun setting on Vinay del Zexay. He had a faraway look to his eyes. "However, I am innocent only in that matter. There are many things I must atone for."
Louis, understanding what Borus meant, kept silent.
Borus closed his eyes briefly, images of that horrible night of blood and rage flashing through his mind's eye. He sighed. "I want to leave, Louis. Knowing that my friends do not trust me," he broke off and opened his eyes, shrugging. "I don't see any point in sticking around."
"I trust you," Louis said impulsively. "So you have at least one friend who does." He grinned at Borus, who grinned back.
"You don't know how grateful that makes me, Louis," he said, affectionately patting the boy on the back, but the pained look in his eyes didn't go away.
"Don't worry about it, Borus," Louis assured him, seeing it. "I'm sure the others will come to their senses soon enough, and you'll be happy again." He smiled slyly. "Especially with Lady Chris."
Borus, recognizing the implications of the boy's words after hearing many versions of it (not many brimming with originality, either), scowled. "All right, tell me this, Louis. Why does everyone think I'm in love with Lady Chris? And why me in particular? I know all about your crush on the Captain, but I never bother to make any more than an assumption on that."
Louis smiled cheerfully, despite the pink blush on his cheeks. "Because of the way you act around her, Borus."
Borus vaguely recalled Percival's words. "Possesive, jealous, blindly protective and violent?" he suggested wearily.
"Huh?" Louis looked confused. "No. Just plainly in love. Besides, you two suit each other."
Borus sighed and leaned against the post, shoving his hands into his tunic pockets. "I'm not in love with her, Louis, unless I've been hiding something from myself." He paused. "Or unless I want to get in trouble."
"Why?"
Borus couldn't believe that he asked that. "Why?" he echoed. "Why? She's my captain, of course. Having a close and personal relationship with the Captain of the Zexen Knights would be reprehensible! An outright breach of propriety! I would never want that!"
As he said those words, a niggling doubt in the back of his head told him that it really wasn't as major as he made it out to be. Percival had said it as well—Chris was still a woman, and a very beautiful one as well. It wouldn't be too much of a scandal if he loved her. After all, everyone seemed to expect him to. And there were many things about her that endeared her to him. Things that—no.
How could he love her? She was his captain, he reminded himself angrily, although he was coloring slightly at his thoughts. Therefore unreachable.
Louis looked lost for a moment, then realization dawned upon him. "Are you telling me that you're not in love with milady because it's not the shiniest behavior for a knight?" he asked incredulously.
"Isn't it?"
Louis sighed mournfully. "I don't understand anything," he said plaintively. "I won't pretend to."
"Wise choice," Borus congratulated him, not understanding everything going on as well. "Only idiots would pretend to be experts on things they don't understand."
"Things like you and Lady Chris?" Louis asked as though he really didn't believe Borus.
"No," Borus said firmly. "Because there's nothing between us."
Absolutely nothing, he thought, strengthening his resolve. But the thought was accompanied by a curious wave of wistfulness.
Before he could contemplate on that as well, Louis shrugged. "Oh, well. It was fun to believe while it lasted, anyway." He glanced up. "So you really will leave Vinay del Zexay tomorrow?"
Borus nodded.
"Where are you going?"
Borus laughed sheepishly. "To tell you the truth, Louis, I haven't thought that far yet."
Louis looked at him sternly, a strange thing to see on so young a face. "Well, you should." He held out the bundle in his arms. "I'd like you to have these."
"What's in the bundle?" Borus asked unintentionally. He wanted to refuse Louis' gift, but the boy's eyes were so earnest and he was curious to see what was inside, if not rotten produce.
Louis smiled. "It's a cloak, and I want you to have it." He fished around in his pocket as he handed the cloak to Borus. "And this, too," he announced, holding something up dangling from a leather string.
Borus looked at it and did a double take. "I can't take that, Louis!" he exclaimed, stepping back.
Louis smiled. "I want you to have it. It's been my lucky charm for some time, and it actually works. I'd figured you needed more good luck than I did, so I decided that you should have it." He gave Borus a meaningful look. "By the look of the events going on, I'd say you need a lot of good luck."
Borus shrugged.
"So here," Louis said, smiling cheerfully and plunking the cord onto the cloth in Borus' arms. "It should help you out."
Borus stared at it for a moment, then looked at Louis. It seemed that the boy was determined to give it to him. He gave up. "Thank you, Louis."
Louis laughed. "It's the least I could do—you taught me how to use a sword, remember?"
Borus nodded thoughtfully. "Good point." He winced as he remembered Louis' early days—he used to think that the lad was born with two right hands. "But if you think giving me this is enough a debt, you'd better think again!"
Louis smiled reasonably. "So you'd better come back so I can repay you. Deal?"
Borus grinned, ignoring the slight wetness in his eyes. "Deal."
**********
Don't hate me. And don't hate them either.
And isn't Louis cute? You've gotta love him. He's almost like a littler and cuter version of Chris. Only more optimistic.
Can anyone tell me what color Borus' eyes are? I mean, in the game, his profile looks like he has green eyes. Sometimes blue. Other times gray. Can anyone tell me? I need to know!! And what about Percy? Chris?
Well, Borus is off. It was a little difficult for me to write this chapter, since I was kinda high on ice cream, and my being high almost never results in slightly angsty stuff.
Hmm…I think I'll go get some ice cream right now. 'Ta!
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