Within Holy Walls
A Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic
By Tenshi no Ai
I don't own the characters and locations in the game that are presented in this work, Square-Enix does.
I sa ya, I sa ya
I si ma cozy
I sa ya, I sa ya
Trasi ma cozy
Santi-u na ni du-na
Dra ma ta jo
Chapter 19: False Artemis (Who wins in the game of life?)
Nn...nhm...my head hurts...sleep will cure that...
...
...Ah, fine, I'll get up.
Sullenly I sit up, fingers at my temples in a vain effort to quell my headache. My mouth is so dry. I try blinking a few times, unsurprised at how stuck' my eyelids feel. Ah, I can't rub my temples and my eyes at the same time...
--THDD--
...What was that sound? And why is my bed shaking...?
--THDDTHDDTHDDTHDD--
I fall onto my bed, pressing myself flat against it as the ground shakes violently to the time of the...footsteps?
What could be heavy enough to do that...hn. No, that's not the right question.
What could be heavy enough to do that and be in Lionel castle town?'
...Oh, no.
--THDDTHDDTHDD--
Cautiously I start moving off of my bed, flinching as the ground moves when my toe touches the cold, stone floor. Okay, don't be scared...I let myself slide off the bed, standing perfectly still as
--THddthddthdd--
the footsteps thunder away from the church.
I don't like this.
Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, door. Okay. Reaching out for the doorknob, I grasp it with my clammy left hand. A nervous tremble rises from my stomach as I clutch the cool metal just a little bit harder.
Once I open this door, I can't go back to my blissful ignorance.
Easily the knob turns, the door opens and the world outside of my tiny room is revealed.
Oh...
Steel hawks glide along the summer sky, diving at an unlucky knight. He bats at them with his sword as he and two others face down a regular adult-sized behemoth. A herd of behemoth stomp away from the debacle, unsteadily heading towards the south end of town. I squint, seeing an unnatural blue among the nice houses of the east side. A gasp escapes me when I realize that blue is actually a blue dragon storming about, crashing through the nice but thin-walled homes.
Hm...?
Something's wrong with them.
Now that I think about it, those steel hawks are missing far more than they should against three knights who are distracted enough as is. Their dives are wobbly, and it seems that they can't recover as quickly from them. That behemoth charging at the knights looks more than a little disoriented as it shakily crashes through the protective triangle that the three men have formed...to protect their backs, I suppose?
(DIE!)
I clench my teeth and the doorknob as the behemoth's bellow slams into my ears.
Die'? Behemoths are violent, but...
(HUMANS...DIE!)
...I don't remember them being this proactive about it.
(HUMAN...SAID...KILL!)
What?
The behemoth viciously smashes one of the knights away with one of its horns, but the other two knights take advantage of that and slash at the monster. The blades sink into the massive flesh of the beast, carving unevenly into muscle. A copious spray of red is elicited at each blow, and the behemoth roars piteously before sinking into a pool of its own blood.
What a horrible end. Not anywhere as graceful as Mama and Papa could've ended it...
The knights help up their comrade and they stare at the steel hawks, who should now know better than to stay around but are still diving badly and...
I slam the door, turning away from the carnage.
I don't know...I don't know, but...
--HUMAN...SAID...KILL!--
These monsters...they aren't doing this because they want to. Monsters may be violent when someone invades their habitat, but...why would they come down from Bariaus Hill and invade a town unless...
Said'.
A mediator.
My eyes look around my bare room, falling upon my valise.
I can't let someone do this to innocent monsters--as oxymoronic as that sounds--from my home.
One step.
What can I do?
Two steps.
I can talk to the monsters. I can calm them down. I don't think they want to be here either.
Three steps.
I can find Beowulf and tell him that it's not the monsters' fault, that someone's controlling them.
Four steps.
I can hunt this mediator down.
I crouch down in front of my valise, methodically digging through my clothes, trying to find something I can move comfortably in. Ah, my old ninja tights and female squire dress should do. Now, where are they...
A small voice deep within me shrieks, why are you doing this!? The knights can take care of it! You're just a cataloger now, a cataloger from Murond who can't even cast a fire spell right!
...Is that all I am?
I've never needed to use magic before Murond. I never needed to learn how to read, or file books away, or translate.
I've never needed someone to protect me.
Before that black hole in my memory, before Murond...I was a hunter.
I'm sure Mama would do no less.
-----
My footsteps tap quietly against the floor of the church as I walk towards the front. These ninja boots are really quiet. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the mass of the behemoth still in its own blood. The bodies of a number of steel hawks are scattered around it. It looks like a bizarre centerpiece in one of those elaborate church rituals. The blood of the monsters could be the wine the priests partake...
Hm...today is Ajora's birthday. How...fitting.
The knights are long gone...probably slaughtering other monsters.
...I shouldn't think of it that way. They're just doing their job, trying to protect this town, but...if they only knew what I knew...
Well, who's to say that they wouldn't do this anyway?
What are you doing out, Reis?
Verden? I look over to my right, where Verden stands next to the main doors in more elaborate robes than usual. The doors of the nave are open, and I notice a fair amount of white mages standing behind the threshold, fidgeting about. Focusing my eyes on Verden again, I notice that he looks stressed and...something else. I'm going to help, I say simply.
There really isn't much more to say than that, is there?
Verden's voice is strained, his light eyes boring into mine, How do you intend to do that? I didn't transfer you here in order to risk yourself unnecessarily. Leave this for the knights to handle!
So they can hack through Bariaus Hill's monster population, endangering themselves and the monsters? But killing isn't the only solution, I look past him, to the white mages. Scarlet is there among them, an unscrutable expression blanketing her face. Hm...I don't understand...why aren't they helping out there? shouldn't the white mages be assisting the knights?
His stressed expression shifts into something that shatters his normal calmness just a little bit more. I'm not sure what it is, but it's ugly in the way it darkens his eyes. I will not risk their lives, his voice is hard.
Risk their lives'? It says in the book I've been translating that a white mage's purpose is to heal others, no matter what, holding back a sigh at Verden's lack of change in his attitude, I look over at the land before the church, where various monsters are roaming. The battle cries from both humans and monsters floods my hearing in shuddering waves, what if Sir Kadmus had decided not to risk his men's lives?
He would be reprimanded, he wrings his hands, hiding them within the sleeves of his robes, knights are supposed to protect the people.
And white mages are supposed to heal, and I... I shake my head, I can help as well.
To my ears, it sounds weird...but it feels right.
I forbid it, Verden looks at me evenly, eyes flaring with something...I'm not sure, you are a cataloger under Murond authority. You need to stay here with the other townspeople, you need to wait until the town is safe again, his voice is threaded with a pleading quality, and it hurts.
--Reis, you deserve it. Please, take it and don't worry about coming in for work tomorrow--
What happened to that calm, tranquil man who treated me kindly when I first arrived?
--I simply do not wish for the white mages, most of them young, innocent girls, to be manipulated into relationships in order to satiate more...sinful desires--
Now...Verden is all too human, but...he's not the human that Beowulf is.
--Do be careful, Reis. As a cataloger from Murond, I hold you to the highest moral standard--
Beowulf likes it when I talk to other people, when I do things that I usually wouldn't do. But Verden wants me to stay in this shell.
--As a cataloger from Murond--
But I can't.
--Cataloger--
That's not who I really am.
I need to be true to myself, my voice is quiet. I don't think it's possible for me to say this loudly, in a demanding tone, and we all have responsibilities to commit to.
Every minute I waste arguing my case, someone could get hurt.
Someone could die.
Beowulf could...
You are a cataloger, your responsibilities lie with the Church! Verden exclaims, finally losing whatever patience he had with me.
The Church, huh... Lionel castle town belongs to the Church, I murmur, then I walk out of the church.
I'm sorry, Verden, but the only person that I'll let protect me is myself.
-----
A fair number of buildings have been destroyed in the southwestern part of town. However, it seems like most of the damage was caused by large monsters cramming themselves through the alleyways. This mediator must've completely broken their minds for them to do something like that. Monsters aren't stupid. In reality, they're all very intelligent.
Hunters...master hunters know this more than anyone. Even if we hunt them down, we still respect them. They're all just following their roles in life.
We all are.
It's so easy to fall back into this persona of Reis Dular of Bariaus Hill, the hunter', I can't understand how I could've ever left it.
Why did I...?
...Hn.
In front of me is an exit out of this alley I've been tiptoeing through. It doesn't lead to the shopping area, but rather a place I've never been to in all my months of staying in Lionel. It's an abandoned, empty area...well, except for the behemoth and the knight occupying it. The monster is an adult, and the knight is...familiar? A blonde with brown eyes...
--Good evening, Sir Kadmus--
...ah, he was one of the knights at the door the night of the ball, with Riola. I remember. He's the loud one. He's in a battle-ready stance, holding his sword in front of him in a defensive way. Looking down, I see that his legs are shaking.
He's afraid...and he's showing it.
The behemoth charges down upon him, and the familiar knight begins to move...then hesitates.
My hands fly up to my mouth.
No...!
With sickening speed, the behemoth rushes towards the young knight, twisting its neck slightly as it does so. The knight tries to escape, and nearly succeeds...but not before one of the monster's horns plunges into his side with a horrifically thick, wet sound. Thrusting its head to the side, the behemoth dislodges the man from its horn. He smashes into the ground in a limp heap.
He didn't even have time to scream...
And then the behemoth looks up at me and growls.
(ANOTHER ONE...KILL...)
I could run, but I don't think I can outrun it. And even if I could and found someone else to handle it...no. That man needs help now. I won't be a link in the chain of dependence.
I can do this.
Why do you want to kill so badly? My voice is shaky. That's not good.
It takes a step towards me.
(KILL...)
This isn't the way your kind normally should behave, a stronger voice, but...
Another step.
(HUMAN...)
This is not where you belong, almost steady...
A summer breeze from the west ruffles through the behemoth's yellow mane, lifts up the skirt of my yellow dress slightly.
It stops.
(KILL!)
Then it charges.
--If a monster charges at you, don't think, jump and roll to the side--
The mass of the charging beast rushes past me as I follow Papa's lesson, the wind smashing into me as I roll, hands protecting my neck in the manner that he showed me, so long ago. With my position on the ground, I watch as it slows enough to turn around...then it starts racing at me again.
--A somersault is good if you're on the ground and you need to avoid an attack--
I roll and roll without knowing what I'm doing, where my momentum will take me, narrowly avoiding the massive behemoth intent on killing me. I somersault clumsily, running into the prone knight. He cries out in agony. I'm sorry, I whisper, untangling myself out of my balled-up position.
...There's his sword, right next to him.
Grabbing the hilt, I wince at how heavy the weapon is. Two-handed...I don't know how to use a two-handed weapon, let alone a knight sword. The behemoth, a fair distance away, stares at me warily as I move away from the fallen knight, holding the blade out in front of me with clammy hands.
I don't know how to use a sword, but I suppose I'd better learn now.
--As women, it's not to our advantage to use heavy weapons. Our weight and muscle structure can't support the weight of an ax or sword, which is why I've been teaching you with the crossbow and daggers--
Not helpful, Mama...
--If you ever find yourself using a heavy weapon, then it's a matter of one-hit kill'. If you can't fatally wound the monster in one hit, you'll have used up all your energy swinging that heavy weapon around. In other words, you'll be at the mercy of the monster--
One-hit kill'? How can I do that on a behemoth?
--Hopefully you'll get heavier later on so you'll have more strength, but the only way to do this is by slicing through a weak point, some sort of juncture...--
A juncture...
The behemoth steps towards me again, intending on charging at me. If I don't kill it when it does, I won't be able to dodge again with this sword.
I had forgotten how truly dangerous hunting was, but when we were all together it seemed as if we were invincible...
A juncture...the only juncture I can think of is the one right below the jaw structure. But with that shaggy mane, I can't tell if there's a weakness there, or lots of flesh that this blade will have to carve through...
I'm not even sure I'm strong enough to do this.
Translating is so much safer...
(HUMAN...)
I shift my weight onto the balls of my feet.
(THAT HUMAN...)
The thick rawhide covering the hilt is cutting into my hands...now I understand why Beowulf's hands are so calloused, even if he uses gloves. My left hand is on the bottom, the wrist of my right hand pointing skyward. It helps in propping the sword up.
(ALL OF YOU...)
Adjusting my hold slightly, the length of the blade is horizontal to my body, the edge towards the monster...and diagonally up.
(KILL!!)
I've got too many things to live for to die!
As the behemoth charges at me, dull yellow eyes flaring with hate, two-cloved hooves smashing into the ground with each step, I notice one thing.
It's all so clear.
I take a few steps forward, swinging the blade upward, hearing the satisfying sound of the blade tearing through fur and flesh and
--CRAK--
!!!
Pain explodes out of my right wrist as it bends back unnaturally and I collapse, rolling instinctively out of the way. Every bone in my wrist seems to be grinding together as my hand flops around uselessly, twisting and colliding together and there are so many different kinds of pain but I've never experienced physical pain like this but I won't black out, I won't...
I won't...
I won't...
Get up...
Get...up...!
Holding my arm--I don't even want to try and touch my wrist right now--against my chest with the help of my left hand, I shakily stand, waves of nausea rolling thickly in my stomach in time with the agony thudding through my right arm. My vision is blurry, hot tears rolling down my cheeks, but I can still see.
The behemoth is down on its back, bellowing while weakly twisting around. The blade of the sword is stuck deep in its neck, not far enough to decapitate it, but it's a fatal wound. Blood, deep red to the point of black, stains its mane around the wound.
And I thought I was suffering...
I can't let this go on. I'm a hunter, not a murderer.
With deep jabs of pain stabbing through my right arm with each step I take, I manage to walk over to monster. It does not try to get away from me, or even blindly attack me as other monsters would in its case.
I'm sorry... a mere pittance, but it's all I can offer. It growls pathetically.
(DEATH...PREFERABLE TO...THAT VOICE...)
To be forcefully controlled...I think I can understand why it would say that.
To be controlled against your will is worse than death.
I kneel carefully, taking ahold of the hilt of the sword with my left hand, and rip out the sword from its neck. My arm is jolted and a fresh bolt of pain wracks through it, but I grit my teeth and try to ignore it. The blood gurgles in its throat as the behemoth tries to growl, yet it's very much alive.
(DEATH...PL...)
Forgive me, although I don't believe it can listen to me anymore. Gritting my teeth, I manage to hold the tip of the blade over its heart. I close my eyes and plunge the sword into its chest.
The air...its last breath rattles in the wound in its throat.
It's dead.
This isn't...this isn't what I set out to do...I...
As a member of a hunter-family, I'm very used to seeing monsters die. I've killed, but this was...this was gratuitous compared...
I can't do this right now. No angsting. Others--both monster and human--will die unless I find the mediator responsible for this.
I won't let this happen again.
Very carefully, I yank out the sword from the behemoth's chest, grimacing as the agony pounds through my arm. I turn around, dragging the tip of the sword on the ground, and I notice the knight has somehow pushed himself up into a sitting--more like hunched-over--position. Dropping the sword, I walk over to him while trying vainly not to jolt my right arm with each step. I kneel beside him gently, taking in his features. He's in agony, yet he actually attempts to smile at me.
Hey there, Miss Reis, he groans, holding onto his right side, d'ya mind if I...if I rest my head on your lap?
I don't mind, and he very gently lays down, staring at me in a way that makes me blush, is there anything else I can do for you?
He smiles, looking like a little boy. Nah, this already like a dream come true, he winces, 'cept for the agonizing as hell pain' part. I'm, like, no masochist, he pauses, staring up at me with wide brown eyes, my name's Ryan. Ryan Mikner. I was really impressed by the way...the way you took care of that hella ugly monster. That was totally sweet...
...Maybe it's the steady waves of pain and nausea, but I don't understand what he's saying. He could be delirious. Excuse me?
Oh, yeah, totally...I always thought you were...you're like awesome, real beautiful and quiet and stuff and... his breathing is getting labored, yet his eyes are still steady, and like, even before today I had this major crush on you...
Hm, considering the odd way he's talking, I think... Maybe you shouldn't talk.
Nah, it's all good, I know I'm gonna die sooner or later, the smile on his face is peaceful. Tears spring up in my eyes because...that sort of smile... ...hey, don't look at me like you're gonna start crying...I can't stand it when girls cry...I... slowly he removes one hand from his wound and reaches up, touching my cheek. Something wet streaks against my cheek, and I know it's not my tears.
I can't even save this man...
We need a laying of the hands here!
...Huh?
A flurry of white mages approach us, a couple pushing me away as they proceed to lay their hands on him. There are bright lights competing with the morning sun emanating from the center of the group.
...?
So, what's wrong with you? Scarlet's voice is as imperious as ever, and when I look up I'm not surprised to see her hovering above me with a rather bland look on her face.
Carefully, I hold out my arm to her. I broke my right wrist.
She grasps it. I bite my tongue in an effort not to scream as things grind in my wrist. Stand up, she demands, and I try to do so, even though my knees feel wobbly, by the Holy Saint, break' is one thing, but you've absolutely pulverized about every bone in your wrist. What were you trying to do, anyway?
I grit out through my painfully clenched teeth. She shakes her head at this even as a light shines from her hand...warm...
Hmph, first time, right? It's a common injury among squires, but most of them don't hold on long enough to let this much damage occur, I glare at her dully through tear-filled eyes and she smirks, I honestly do need to hold your wrist in order to heal the break. Hands-on healing is the best way, after all.
...I'm not sure I can believe that.
In my wrist, I can feel bones fusing back together, muscles repairing, and an overwhelming sense of wellness. She lets go of my hand and I move it experimentally. It still hurts, but it's a lot better than before. Thank you, I can't help but let a little bitterness about how she treated my wrist flow into my words, and judging by her shrug, she doesn't care what I think, will Sir Mikner be all right?
her attention is drawn to the behemoth's corpse, so, I'm to assume you did that?
Not because I really wanted to.
Almost impressive, she drawls, but don't you have another responsibility to respond to?
I have to find Beowulf.
Then, what are you waiting for? Go, her dark eyes have a hint of amusement in them, if a little cataloger like you is fated by Saint Ajora Himself to save my adopted home on His birthday, of all days, then you'd better do it as quickly as possible, she narrows her eyes, but it doesn't seem like she's glaring at me, not exactly, I'm not anymore fond of healing as you are of your own duties, whatever those may be.
Hn...
Thank you, I say calmly, walking past her to pick up my' discarded sword. Thank God I'm ambidextrous. There are reddish-brown trails staining the once silver blade. There is blood staining the ground beneath the behemoth, and beneath Mikner.
There is blood everywhere, but none of it is mine.
Is it fortunate to see the blood of others spilled, but none of my own?
-----
Me wo samase
Iyashii mono-tachi
Me wo samase
Chi'e wo mottakedamono
Sei'iki wa amaku yawarakai
Mi wo azukereba, oboreru
-----
I am a hunter.
There are the sounds of battle in the shopping street. It sounds like most of the knights are there. I heard a woman scream to a Cherise' a couple times...she sounds like a mother looking for her child. God, of all things to happen in this situation. Most of the sounds that aren't battle cries are instead the sickly thick sounds of metal and bone cutting into flesh.
I am a hunter.
Something in me wants to help them, but I don't know which them' I can help. So instead I press on after making sure that Beowulf isn't among the knights there. I need to hurry, but the din of the battle is distracting when I've never used my senses in this way before.
I am a hunter.
Beowulf had the interesting habit of talking to himself. He stopped once he realized that I can hear anything he says. I can't help it, I love listening to his voice. Or, at least, I think he just stopped doing that around me.
I am a hunter.
If ever there was a time that he would talk to himself, I think this is it. And with my hearing, I can find him easily. The alternative...no. If he can survive a war, he can survive this.
Humans are far worse than monsters when it comes to death.
I wander around the southeastern part of town, a maze of homes belonging to the peasantry of the town. Judging by the rubble and damaged walls, a lot of large monsters have been through this area, like that blue dragon I saw earlier. I haven't seen any other dragons, though...
God, I can't figure out why the hell this is happening.
A faint murmur...north. Gently I walk through the narrow street, making sure that the tip of the sword isn't dragging on the ground. I've had far too many near-misses by other monsters since that behemoth to reveal my position to some hidden creature now.
I wish I had an ether on me...I feel like I'm practically drained.
North-northeast. It certainly sounds like Beowulf. But the voice isn't moving...is he injured?
Just a little longer, then I'll move again. Sounds like the worst of it is at the shopping area. I hope everyone's okay.
Northeast. He's talking at a fairly normal tone for him, but his voice sounds strained.
He's okay, isn't he?
Ah...when I said I'd go with Reis to Bariaus Hill, I didn't think that the hill would come to us.
East. Hm...I guess that means that the knights still don't know that a mediator's controlling all these monsters. Although...now that I think about it, how powerful is this mediator to control so many monsters that ordinarily wouldn't obey a human?
I hope she's okay. If that overprotective git's good for one thing, keeping her out of harm's way is it.
I turn the corner of a dilapidated building. Beowulf is there in his normal uniform with his sword strapped on his back, sitting on some rubble. He looks exhausted. Hello, Beowulf, I murmur. He quickly looks up at me, eyes impossibly wide.
Beowulf stands, eyes moving over me a couple times before they settle on my face. I move my right arm behind my back, trying to hide my now-bloated wrist from him, Why are you here? Why do you have blood on your face, and why are you carrying a knight's sword...and whose blood is that on the sword?
...I guess I couldn't actually expect him to be overjoyed at seeing me, considering what he was just saying. It's not any of my blood, looking at his face, this is a minor comfort, the blood on my face is from Sir Mikner, and I used his sword to fight a behemoth.
There's a lot of things running through his eyes before he finally settles on worried confusion.
I mean, I killed a behemoth, the confusion on his face changes right into shock...I guess I can't blame him. I didn't think I could do it either, I've been looking for you...I can help you.
Slowly he draws in a deep breath. I'm taking you back to the church. This isn't something you should get involved in--
I won't go, my voice is firm, my determination high, you need to know that this isn't the monsters' fault. A mediator has coerced them to invade this town. If we find this person, we can release the monsters from that control and they'll peacefully return to Bariaus Hill, a dark look crosses his face and I hasten to finish, and I can find that person.
Beowulf gives me a hard stare, so unlike him, but...this whole situation is stressing, not that I don't believe you, but how can you be so sure that you can find this person?
Even with the pain, with that look in his eyes, I smile. I found you, didn't I?
Something completely breaks in his stare, revealing an extreme range of emotions twisting in his dark eyes. You're not...you're not supposed to be this brave, he whispers, walking up to me. Lightly he rests his forehead on mine, gloved fingers stroking my cheeks, and I close my eyes. The leather of his gloves is rough, but not pleasurably so like his bare touch, why are you doing this? His question brushes against my lips but I don't move.
I'm painfully aware of the situation.
Because I have the ability to, I whisper back, because I want to help you.
I want you to depend on me as much as I've grown to depend on you.
When we find this person, or if we run into a monster...I don't want you to fight, I back away, ready to protest, but my voice dies in my throat when I look into his eyes. Those beautiful brandy eyes...they're scary now, please, Reis.
I don't want to consent. I didn't come all this way to be forced into such a limiting promise. But if I don't say yes' to those eyes, I might do something worse than a behemoth ever could.
Being emotionally open like this really limits my options from the days where I did things just for myself.
I look down. I turn around, my back to him, but...
Why take away my choices?
Because you're something worth protecting. Because even someone like me can be brave if I have that sort of inspiration in mind.
I'm not worth your life, I mutter, unwilling to turn around.
You're worth more than that, what? I turn around...why does he have that small smile on his face at a time like this? aren't we going to go?
I don't see why it's acceptable for him to give up his life for me, but not vice-versa. Not like this is the time to wonder about that...
but actually... why aren't you in your Shrine Knight armor? Wouldn't that be safer?
That'd probably get me killed, actually, he walks up to my side, it's made out of gold, which is entirely too soft to withstand any damage, and I wouldn't be able to move as quickly in it, we start moving forward, what happened to Mikner?
Hm...I can't hear anything yet. The white mages came to help just as he was becoming delirious.
A mediator depends on talking, so it should be easy to find this person as well.
Ah, that's good, Beowulf murmurs, and were they able to help you with your hand?
...He's not supposed to be that observant. Why do I even try? This was the best they could do, I shift my hold on the hilt of the sword. My left hand's feeling sore...
North-northwest. A female. Accented...can't place it.
Hm.
His voice is tinged with surprise.
I found her, I whisper, north end of town.
Odd...no response? I glance up at him. He has a strange expression on his face. You can hear that far?
If I concentrate, finally, this absurdly sensitive hearing has a use. It only took eight years, let's go.
Quietly as possible, we make our way up to the northern entrance of town. I notice an odd lack of monsters prowling confusedly about, which doesn't bode well for either the knights in the southern end of town, or the various species populations of Bariaus Hill.
It scares me now to think of all the living creatures that depend on me and Beowulf. Maybe Beowulf is used to this sort of thing, considering who he is, but me...
Somehow, no matter what happens once we reach the mediator, there will still be blood on my hands. The injured, the those have been avoided if I'd done things a little differently?
Is my best ever really good enough?
Finally, we reach the northern gate. Looking around the corner of a building, we can see a curly-haired brunette in mediator-like clothes, but...they're foreign. The cut of the jacket, the style of the dress...that's not like an Ivalician mediator. She's surrounded by dragons and hydras, all complacently standing about. That's a mediator? Beowulf whispers behind me.
I mutter back, what can you do from here?
Let's see... turning around, I notice that he's taken his sword out from its scabbard on his back, holding it out in front of him as he concentrates. I turn back and watch as the foreign mediator wavers around, knees buckling...then she looks directly in our direction and points something at us. There is a loud explosion, and something swishes past us, smashing into the building on the other side of the street.
COME OUT!
Stay here, Beowulf whispers as he sheathes his sword and walks out from behind the cover of the building.
Both of you.
Silently I follow, dropping my own borrowed sword with a loud clanging noise. With that sort of resistance, there's no way that Mama's one-hit kill' method would ever work, especially with the condition of my hand.
Oh, and I did promise not to fight.
Hn.
With her strange weapon as a guide, the mediator motions for us to walk up in front of her, far away enough that she could kill us before we could even attack. Her lip curls disdainfully when her brown eyes fall upon Beowulf, but her expression lightens when she glances at me.
Why...?
Her lips are moving...
--Aren't you unique? A new job class from those fool Ivalicians?--
...but my ears aren't registering any sound.
--Someone like you deserves to be on the winning side.--
Her voice is in my head...
--A side with riches innumerable to reward you with.--
...
--Join me, and I'll make sure you are justly rewarded.--
No.
Dully, I stare at her. Petty little human things like that don't interest me at all.
I have everything I want right here.
Let's do this the difficult way, then, she smiles, pointing the weird thing at me. There are explosions dulling my hearing, things flying at me, and all I can do move away, wincing as a couple of the flying things graze my left arm. I stumble and roll away, landing badly on my newly healed wrist. Aah...!
I look up, watching as Beowulf heads towards me. There is a loud crack from that odd weapon again, and he jerks back as red burst out of the upper part of his left arm...
No...!!
Although he's still standing, his left arm hangs uselessly at his side. Blood drips from the tips of his gloved fingers, first in thin trails, then in rivulets.
This promise...I'd rather die than keep this promise!
Right then, the woman sighs, Ivalician men are so weak. All of you can take care of the woman, so GO!
I struggle to my feet, the pain pounding through my arm in a hurried rhythm. I have to help Beowulf...
But now there are dragons, all the different varieties and their cousins surrounding me, blankly glaring at me through hazy reddish eyes. Saliva runs in thick ropes down the sides of their gaping jaws as they snap at random, wings fluttering as they close in on me.
Isn't this overkill? What is that woman thinking?
(Pa---tic...ki-l...--ma-...)
I stare at the red dragon that growled at me. I didn't understand a thing it said.
(V--ce...a-w--s...t---in -t- -e...b--od...)
The hydra that spoke...why do they all sound so unintelligible to me?
(Y--...-h-- a--...)
Maybe if I can focus...I can understand them through this strange haze blocking their words.
(Ch----in-...w--t -s...y--r...)
This mediator ruined them...but I can help...
(Th-s fe--ing...a--a...)
Hurts, but just a little more...
(Are yo-...hel-in- us?)
This pain in my head...I can work through it...I need...
(Why?)
A jagged bolt of agony rips through my head, and I feel a warm wetness splash down from my nose as I crumple to the ground. There's pain coursing through my head, through my arms...
If it weren't for those two different pains, I don't think I'd feel like I exist.
Sound. A woman screaming in fury. Metal against metal. The splatter of liquid as it hits the ground. Heavy, steady breathing.
Sight. Legs wrapped in leathery scales of blue and red and amber and green.
Touch. Hard, comforting solidness of the ground beneath me. Liquid running down over my lips.
Smell. I try to inhale, but the odd liquid rushes up my nose. I exhale quickly, feeling the thick liquid escape my nose and splatter onto the ground.
Taste. Metal.
Metal?
Blood?
Ah, I see. That would be the liquid running from my nostrils. Ew. I don't have a problem with seeing a monster's blood, but I do have one with my own blood being visible.
(Are you alive, childling?)
My head hurts. My arm hurts. I try to sit up, but the pain in my head spikes and I quickly lie back down, are you all better now?
(We have recovered. You, however, have not.)
I guess I really must look bad for a dragon to comment on it. I'll be fine soon. Please, help Beowulf...he's injured--
(We owe nothing to the battling humans.)
I struggle to get up, to work past the pain. Tears of frustration pour from my eyes as I try...I can't do anything...I want to...Beowulf...
(Your mate is in better condition than the human who thought to control us.)
...You could've said that in the first place. You all should go back home, my eyelids drift downward. I feel so drained. Sleep will help...I love to sleep...
(We have decided to help you.)
With what? Maybe when I wake up, this will all be a dream...
(With the darkness clouding your mind.)
... What do you know about that?
(That it has hindered your growth immensely.)
...I don't like that these dragons know so much about me. Even if they are dragons... Why help me, though?
(Childling, this is our boon. In return for your help, we can lift the darkness that blinds you from your true potential.)
Dragons are an aloof species of monster. Mama always held them to the highest respect, enough to the point that she would often spend weeks at a time visiting the different dens around the hill and talking to them. She expressively forbid any of us to ever hunt a dragon, and we were all more than happy to comply. They're aloof, but they're also dangerous if they're crossed.
--They are noble creatures, honorable beyond all others--
I want to find out my forgotten memory.
I want to know about myself.
...I just want to finally be complete again.
Thank you for your kindness, I murmur.
There is warmth. I'm sinking into warmth.
A red warmth.
It feels like sleep...
-------
Wake up
Vile people
Wake up
A beast who had intelligence
The sanctuary is sweetly soft
If you give up your body, it will drown
-End to chapter 19-
Oh my...this is one of the chapters that my mind has been focusing on since the beginning, and it feels so good to finally have it written out. The words just poured out...I really hope that everyone can feel the energy running through this chapter, and I hope it more than makes up for last chapter, which I plan on rewriting soon. Oh, and Merry Christmas!
I'm currently in the process of reading and revising errors in past chapters due to a review I received. Just minor grammatical and spelling errors, so don't worry about any plot' changes.
-About 20 people will notice that the full title of this chapter has changed. This title makes more sense in the context of the chapter.
-The lyrics are from the song Santi-U', written by Yoko Kanno and sung by Akino Arai. It's quite possibly one of the creepiest songs I've ever had the pleasure of hearing. The first lyrics are the original made-up language, which had a translation' in Japanese. All credit goes to Takayama Miyuki from
-Ambidexterity: One of Dragoner Reis' inherents is Two Hands.
-Mediators: I tend to think that mediators have sort of a low telepathic connect' as well as their skill with words. This foreign mediator is probably more easily able to force-connect' with monsters. I'm probably thinking too much about it, but...
Reviewers!
Junketsuna kishi, I now understand. I really wasn't sure which kishi' you were using. I didn't think last chapter was difficult to understand, rather just not melding together very well. There are several great' parts, then a couple good' parts, then I hate everything else. Ah, perfectionism is a horrible mistress...
Since you pointed out spelling errors (stupid spellchecker!), I'm currently going back and re-reading everything except for chapters 14 and 18, making the appropriate corrections. Thank you very much for pointing that out. I would be very interested in hearing what you have to say about my writing technique. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Hey, Luna. Yep, we're now in the Memory' arc of this story. I'm excited to see how it turns out. Yes, the Fire spell' part of last chapter is due for revision, but the basic point was that Beowulf never told Reis how to cast a specific spell, just how to summon up the magical essence required. Gah, I'll get right to work on it!
I completely forgot that most high schools have midterms after Christmas and the New Year. I feel old
Oddly enough, I tend to see Algus as perhaps one of the strongest characters in the game. I mean, he's an ass, but his portrayal as a person with the nobility mindset is very strong...which makes him all the more despicable. That and I read Cold' by DK
toastyann, congratulations! You've written the longest review for any of my works so far! First of all, I'm flattered that you would look to WHW to get your creative juices flowing. Don't worry, I understand the difference between plagiarism' and inspiration'. I'm just happy you read the note!
Communication problems are the most common bump in the road for most relationships, and dealing with them can strengthen a relationship, as in Beowulf and Reis' case. Actually, I find it a little odd that you say that Beowulf took it so calmly', mainly because I'm not sure which chapter you're referring to. If you mean 17, though, then I would say that wallowing in guilt' and calmly' are two different things entirely. Is that the chapter you're talking about?
Ah, romance. Is anyone truly versed in the ways of the heart? ;
You really do know your astrological signs. While Reis is actually a Pisces--one who now owns the Aquarius stone--I am a Taurus. I'm sincerely trying not to have my personality entangle with Reis', but with the first-person POV and the fact that I've built up her personality from practically scratch...sorry. What Taurean characteristics does she have?
A dragoner, according to the game: Has a human appearance, but is a dragon'. Interpretations seem to run from mostly human, except for her dragon attacks' to mostly dragon, including a loss of vocal capability'. She has all the breath attacks, as well as some for inviting, healing and boosting up dragons, hydras, hyudras and tiamats. And I did read both fics; I didn't care for Mind of a Woman (read one too many RK romantic comedies), but I loved Last Chance at Glory. Until next time!
Mavina, where have you been? I was worried I'm very happy to see you back, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!
Thank you for reading! If you have any questions or comments, I'd love to hear them!
Chapter 20: Me and the True Me (Salty Rage Refrain): Do you mean to tell me that I'm...I'm defective?