Within Holy Walls
By Tenshi no Ai
(C) Square Enix
Six: Our Place (Facing Homeward)
-0-
For a week now, I haven't talked to anyone unless absolutely necessary. The only thing that matters is work. I'm hoping that after this book is translated, Buremonda will transfer me back to Murond.
At least, that was what I had resolved a week ago. But now...
For the most part, it's as if everything's been duller, more depressing since I've gone back to my old ways. It has even been raining for the last few days, although today's sky is just speckled with clouds. 'April showers bring May flowers' was what Mama used to say...
I can't wait to go back to Murond, just so I can forget again.
--tmptmptmp--
I hear quiet footsteps coming towards the middle of the library, and I try to concentrate on Ajora's prophecies regarding an angel being the leader...whatever that means. The footsteps stop just behind my chair, but I don't react.
What does Buremonda want with me now?
The footsteps continue again, and out of the corner of my eye I see the brilliant white of Buremonda's robe as it moves towards the seat across from my own. "Reis," Buremonda's gentle voice breaks through the last threads of my threadbare concentration, and I can't help but inwardly sigh as I raise my head from the book laid flat on the table. His eyes seem so sad... "Reis...have I done something to offend you in any way? You've seemed so withdrawn lately..."
"I..." my voice falters. What exactly do I say? 'I overheard Beowulf and Chiroseau talking about how you used me for some reason that I don't exactly know about, and because of hearsay that I wasn't even supposed to be present for, I am insulted because if they say that you've used me then it must be true!'
...Hn. When did I trust Beowulf's words beyond Bu...Verden's honor?
Well, it's not like he had a reason to lie. They thought that I had already left. They wouldn't have thought that I would be behind the door, listening in.
Eavesdropping, really.
And I...
--Reis, could you do me a favor?--
It's not like I didn't know that I was being used. That's what doing a favor more or less means, right? I willfully let myself be used, was even happy about it.
...Oh, God. This isn't worth the energy it takes to get righteously angry.
--I just don't like how he used Reis for this--
'This'? What was 'this'?
It...doesn't matter. It doesn't have anything to do with me. Why do I care? Whatever it is, it has to do with Verden and Beowulf. I'm not involved, and now I know to stay far away from whatever it is.
I have enough on my mind already.
"Reis...?" Verden looks at me, concern creasing his delicate face. "What...what is it?"
Waveringly, I smile at him. God, I feel like an idiot. "I'm really sorry, Verden. I...was suffering under a misconception. But everything's better now, really."
'Suffering under a misconception'. Wow. If by some weird chance I have to go out on the battlefield, I'm definitely going to be a mediator.
He looks at me like he doesn't really believe me. I can't say I blame him. I have been very cold towards him for the last week or so. "If you say so," his expression brightens as his normally serene smile becomes more...cheerful. "It is a relief that my prayers have been granted and you have returned to your kind self."
He prayed for me to be myself again...?
Isn't that a bit too much?
"You didn't have to go through such trouble..." I murmur.
"Nonsense." he waves his hand in negation. "You're very important to me, since you're...you're the cataloguer that I had to go to great lengths to transfer from Murond."
... 'Great lengths'? Did someone else want me to transfer to their province? "I see. Thank you for your attention."
Verden smiles at me in his normal way. "Believe me, Reis, you don't have to thank me."
I smile, but I can't shake this feeling that something's a bit off...
-0-
I wander aimlessly about the halls, feeling more than a little subdued. I'm not in the mood to go 'outside'--laughable term that is when the walls have holes in them--and I've never really explored this place since I've arrived. It's been almost three weeks or so, and I've never really looked around more than I should. I guess that's a holdover trait from Murond, to just not do more than what is required.
I thought that I would hate coming back. I thought that all those old memories I had managed to bury would unearth themselves and haunt me...but except for some hazy dreams and that embarrassing moment in the shopping center a couple weeks ago, everything's fine.
I'm fine, more or less.
I'm heading towards my room from the direction of the library and, as I look over to my right, I can see that it is almost twilight. There are sparse clouds in the darkening sky and few stars out now, but they'll show up soon.
I don't really want to go to my room.
I want to watch the stars.
Slowly I walk past my room, past other rooms with people I've not met yet, then the end of the hall. I turn left, the only new path offered. This is the back of the church, judging by how there's no doors to be found. How odd...the church faces south only. I guess there's nothing in the north entrance of the town, nothing except for...
I stop. All I can do is stare out of the holes in the walls, stare beyond them, beyond...
I want to get closer.
Step by step, there's a small eternity in each interval until the tips of my boots tap against the wall. I lean over, placing my hands on the sill of the window directly in front of me. I can feel the coldness of the smooth stone, a reassurance that this is real. Over the tops of the houses I can see it, just a raised piece of land off to the right, just a short distance away. Just northeast of Lionel castle town, just an unassuming land mass.
Bariaus Hill.
Home.
"It's been such a long time..." I mutter, then I shake my head. Isn't that what I wanted? For it to be a long time before I ever saw the place again? That's why I tried--though not very hard--not to come here.
But staring at my first home, just a dark clump of land against a backdrop of bruise-blue...I don't...it doesn't hurt like I thought it would.
Have I grown so cold in the last eight years?
I don't...want to think about that.
The sill reaches up to my hips. That's not too tall. I raise my left leg over the sill, then my right, sitting down and straightening my sky blue dress out afterwards. I let my hands rest on either side of me, thumbs pointing upward. My legs dangle over the edge, which makes me feel as if I were just a little girl again.
I close my eyes and remember...
I'm just a little girl sitting on the roof of our house while Mama is inside, cooking supper. It's the base for Behemoth soup, Mama's worst meal, but we'll eat it anyway because we've gone through the past winter on stripped Selseta plants and dried red Chocobo, and everyone knows how stringy the red one's meat is. To the left of my dangling feet is Papa, who's whistling a tune about animals running free in the wild while skinning a King Behemoth. Mama knows the words. She knows everything. My little brothers are running around, pleading for me to teach them how to climb the roof so they can fly, but I've already promised Mama and Papa that I wouldn't tell. They didn't need to make me promise, I wouldn't have said anything anyway.
After all, I'm the oldest. I have to be the most responsible.
Mama comes out and tells the twins to go pick some fresh berries if they want to have dessert tonight, so they automatically run around right underneath my dangling feet, chanting my name, begging me to come down and join them.
I sigh...
I open my eyes. Nothing's changed.
They're all still gone.
Why...?
Why was I the only one left...?
Why do I belong to the Church now?
Why can't I remember...?
I lower my head. Isn't that what I wanted? To not remember? To just live my life without knowing why everything changed, why I'm not still Reis Dular of Bariaus Hill, why I'm now Reis Dular, cataloguer for a religion I hadn't even heard of before my thirteenth birthday?
If I remember now, will that change anything?
I close my eyes again.
Probably not...
--tmptmptmp--
Footsteps. A man's. Heavier than Verden's, who is my height and probably weighs just a bit more than me. These footsteps are of an individual who is heading my way and not just passing through. I don't open my eyes, don't bother to turn around. If it's not who I think it is, then I'll just have said another stupid thing. The embarrassment burns my cheeks and stomach for just a little while, then goes away. There are worse feelings. "Good evening, Beowulf," I call out, and the footsteps stop.
"How...how did you know?" He sounds flustered. I don't turn around.
I'm sure I have a hideous expression on my face right now.
"I heard your footsteps and guessed."
"I see..." A pause. "Did you want to be alone?"
Do I want to be alone? I just...it's such a deceptively simple question.
Do I want to be without Beowulf's presence?
I shake my head. His footsteps start up again, louder and louder until they reach the wall, then they stop. With my peripheral vision I watch him easily step up onto the sill, then sit down. If I extended my right arm, I would touch him. He blends in with the night and he smells faintly of the shopping area, so he must've just gotten off of patrolling.
Being so close to home seems to make me so much more perceptive than usual. I don't think I like that.
"It's a nice night. There's not so many clouds as there have been the last few days, what with the rain and all." Pause. "Whenever it rains, it reminds me of Lesalia. It's a good thing it doesn't rain a lot down here, or I'd always be homesick." Chuckle. "Reis, you're from around here, right?"
How the...how would he know that? "Excuse me?"
"Buremonda told me when he was planning on transferring you here. He said something about how you'd probably appreciate coming back to your homeland." I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't turn to meet his gaze. "Can I ask you where you're from?"
It feels natural to raise my arm and point at that unimposing hunk of dark in the distance. "There. Bariaus Hill."
"That's a pretty dangerous place. A lot of dragons and other monsters live there." He sounds a bit shocked. "Is that why you're a ward of the Church?"
What's with all these questions now? It was bad enough that I have so many questions that I can't answer...well, at least the ones that Beowulf's tossing out at me are easy enough to answer. "I'm a ward of the Church because I am an orphan. How do you know that I'm a ward..." I shake my head. Never mind, stupid question. "Verden again, right?"
"...Verden?" The name is little more than faint murmurs along a breeze, but it's whispered in a tone that suggests...something I can't quite understand. It's not happy, though. Maybe he can't place the name?
"Buremonda," I clarify, even though he probably wasn't asking me.
"You heard that...I probably shouldn't be surprised, I guess. You have remarkable hearing."
Try telling me that when I'm accidentally caught outside when the hourly bells ring. "I suppose."
Once again peace and quiet reigns...not like I mind Beowulf talking. It's just those questions that were...not what I needed right now. All I need is peace and quiet with someone I really like, someone I really like being around.
Even if I'm not facing him, haven't even looked in his direction since I heard his footsteps, I can still feel his calming presence washing over me.
Content.
Cared for.
Bariaus Hill may be before me, but Beowulf's right next to me.
I smile.
"Reis, did you like being with your family when you were all together?" His voice is a touch heavier than usual, making me pause.
Don't all people like being with their families?
"Yes, very much so," I answer, fighting not to ask the most obvious question, "even when my younger brothers were doing stupid things and annoying me to death...I still loved them very much."
Even when I yelled and ranted and raved...did you know how much I loved you Tyrei, Quain?
How much I still love you...
Something warm touches the inside of my right hand, and I start. What's that? I steal a glance at my hand...our hands. His wrist is on top of mine, his thumb resting on my thumb's lowest joint and the rest of his hand nearly engulfing mine. I look up at his face, but he's staring off into the distance. "I think that..." he begins quietly, eyes still aimed at the sky, "you and I aren't as different as I first thought...no, not at all," he whispers the last words. Why, if he knows I can hear him anyway?
And, what did he mean? Was he an orphan as well?
--It reminds me of Sis too much--
...At least he had his sister with him.
Why didn't I have that as well? Or is it some sick 'you can only have one' choice by an indifferent god?
Maybe that's why Beowulf talked about fate that first time. The idea that our creator is playing with us like that...it's a lot better to think that 'it was just supposed to happen' instead of the alternative.
'God doesn't care about us.'
I shudder.
But...no. I think he means something else when he said that we weren't as different as he first thought. Something about him...
Look at me second-guess this man that I met just less than a month ago. When did I start thinking that I understood him?
--You and I aren't as different as I first thought--
When did he start thinking that he understood me?
I look away from him, instead fixing my gaze to the stars above.
As we sit, his hand on top of mine, his thumb lazily stroking the juncture between my thumb and index finger, I feel strangely relaxed. Almost peaceful.
What a wonderful feeling...
"So, what were you doing here, anyway?" His voice is once again lighthearted, his normal tone.
"I thought I'd watch the stars. And you?"
"I returned those books you had brought over, and then I thought I'd wander around for a bit." I feel a slight movement through his hand, like he just shrugged or something. "I'm glad I saw you."
Me, too. "Why is that?"
"Well, I..." His thumb stops its soothing movements. "I like being around you."
Me, too, though I'm surprised that the feeling is reciprocated. "I like being around you too."
His grip tightens. "And I want to see you more often."
Why is he being so serious about this? I mean, we're friends so this is normal, right? I look over at him, meeting his unusually intense gaze. "Alright."
He looks taken aback. "...Alright, then."
I have this annoying little feeling that I'm missing something here. Looking into Beowulf's slightly quizzical, slightly pleased expression, I'm guessing I'm missing the entire point. Living with only my family for the first thirteen years of my life, then spending the next eight years in emotional stasis and purposely away from human interaction...it's not my fault. I have this feeling that he's assuming that I understand what he's talking about.
Hn.
Beowulf clears his throat. "So...would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?"
Lunch tomorrow? But I don't get a very long lunch break unless I ask Verden, and if he and Beowulf have some sort of bad thing going on...well, I refuse to get involved in that again. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
"Oh," Beowulf says calmly, then goes back to looking at the stars.
What did I do now? I mean, I can't, but I still want to see him again anyway...and that was cold! Did I say something wrong? Is saying that I can't do something at the time specified a bad thing? Okay then, I'll fix it. "But I should be able to leave work early tomorrow, so could we have dinner instead?"
He looks over at me, blatant surprise on his face. I wonder why? Is it his turn to say that he can't go or something? My stomach's fluttery--not the good 'I just finished a section of that stupid tome!' sort of way either--just thinking about it.
I hope he doesn't say no...
Is this why he acted the way he did when I said that I couldn't go?
...I guess my understanding of him is getting a bit better.
"That's even better, Reis." He smiles, and all the fluttery feelings melt into a comfortable kind of warmth. "How about...seven in front of...wait, Buremonda won't like that..."
"Seven in front of the barracks?" I smile, trying to cover up my confusion. Why is he so flustered?
"That's fine. Seven in front of the barracks. Right. Well, I better get going...I have some things to do. Good night, Reis." Before I even have a chance to say anything, Beowulf is loosening his grip on my hand and picking himself off of the wall and disappearing around the corner.
I stare after him, feeling bewildered. That was a little...fast.
Hmm.
This isn't...a normal sort of dinner between friends, is it?
I look over at Bariaus Hill, still cloaked in the night sky. I guess I should get going too.
Is it fair that I can leave like this?
"Good night, Mama, Papa, Tyrei and Quain," I whisper. Can they hear me?
...I can't even remember their chorus of voices saying 'good night'. We always took for granted that we'd see each other the next morning...
Above the hill, I can see the shape of a hydra flying about and I think of red.
Beowulf's eyes' red.
Red dragon's red.
Memories' red.
Someday, I'll have to visit...
-End to Six-
Ah, it's great having several plotlines going at once, both internally and externally. I don't like convoluted plotlines, so I hope that everything is still going smoothly here for everyone.
Some of you may have noticed that I've changed my summary...and good riddance. I didn't even know what the second sentence had meant. This new one may be bland, but now I can write out the chapter title when I update! I've also upped the rating, though that's just added insurance for later chapters.
This weekend I'm going down to San Diego, so the next chapter will be late.
Reviewers!
Mavina, were you watching Blue Gender on Adult Swim too? I like it well enough--I like it more than the new eps of Inuyasha, actually--but the fics on are kinda...sparse. Oh, and thanks for the comments, I really like how you always point out something specific. V
Suteki Maiden, thank you very much! I hope that you'll continue liking this series as it goes on, it's always great to see new people reading!
Thank you for reading! I thrive on feedback and just knowing that people are reading this story!
Chapter 7: Intentions (a case for unprotected dating): "...'Date'? What is...a 'date'?"