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.
Chapter 21: The Cloistered Cataloger, Reis Dular
(March of Pantora 28)
It was a calm, cloudy day in the Lionel region. With the sky being as it was as well as the scent of the approaching rain, the monsters of Bariaus Hill reacted in the same way they had for generations past. They took shelter in the numerous dens scattered throughout the chunk of land that jutted up from the earth, and when the dens were full the rest were left to find overhanging cliffs to stay under. Often the monsters would fight each other for temporary shelter; indeed, the only time they did not was when a human dared to intrude in their habitat.
I'm t-wying, Mama.
Because of the varied and dangerous species of monsters that made the legendary hill their home, many people feared traveling through the unassuming hunk of land. A popular theory of the monster population, as related by followers of the Glabados religion, was that the monsters inhabited the holy place--Saint Ajora's first follower's execution site--so that it would not be desecrated by humans. However, in the centuries past many aspiring adventurers had journeyed to Lionel to find out just what made the hill so special, often assuming enough intelligence to travel within groups. Some of them had even set up businesses there, offering to protect those from southern Lionel who wanted to travel through the hill to the rest of Ivalice and vice-versa. As for the less fortunate...
I know you are, but do you really want to do this?
Their bones, stripped clean of flesh and bleached white by the sun, had served as a prominent reminder as to why Bariaus Hill was not a place to take lightly.
Due to the war, the allure of danger that the hill presented was overshadowed by the battlefields that were scattered throughout northern Ivalice. In fact, there was even one in Lionel, the location's name now being a misnomer: Zigolis Lake. Men and women alike will always be drawn to the most dangerous option presented; because of this desire, Bariaus Hill was now almost devoid of humans.
Just tell me when you're ready.
The exception came in the form of a young couple, both emigrants to Lionel, and their only child, a girl who had recently turned two. Just the average family, with the large bulge in the woman's stomach signifying just how comfortable they felt with raising children in such an environment.
Yes, Mama.
It was the perfect environment for a family of hunters, after all.
Currently the young family was out hunting, as the upcoming rain provided a rare opportunity to catch a monster unaware as it searched for shelter. The hunting ground wasn't all that far from the family's cabin, nestled comfortably in cliffs around the second level of the hill. On the ground level, there was a place along the eastern side overrun with unusually dense brush, providing a hiding place completed by the cliff walls. There was enough space for a medium-sized person to sit behind the brush. If one tried hard enough, that medium-sized person could be joined by a child.
Rela Dular sat within this enclosure, her head bent down so that it would not be visible over the top of the small bushes. Long golden hair flowed from the crown of her head down to the small of her back, drifting over both her very rounded stomach and the child that clung to what was available of her lap. She held a hunting crossbow with both hands, with one of her hands holding the trigger with her index finger at the ready while the other one properly balanced the weapon. Her daughter, the diminutive Reis, also had her hands on the crossbow, chubby little fingers delicately clinging around her mother's finger on the trigger of the well-oiled bow. Her amber eyes, already in the process of darkening slightly to a light sepia, piercingly looked through the thin leaves at their owner's prey.
A red panther, shuffling around on paws capable of overpowering an adult male, warily glared at its own prey. It was facing one such person, the spiky-haired blond named Arin Dular. He smiled as he held his weapon of choice, a long sword carefully sharpened before each hunting trip. The blade was sharp enough to cleanly slice through meat and bone with relative ease, and its owner was more than capable of starting such an act. But the sword wasn't usually the main cause of death to the couple's prey, and he wasn't the hunter who normally took down the monsters.
He was just a decoy.
Eyes that were almost always closed in peaceful slumber were now hard and focused as the red panther backed away from the young man. While the large cat had moved in front of the bow many a time before, it didn't feel like the perfect shot to the child. Her mother had explained to her in low whispers that the first bolt should be the last one used, and Reis wasn't sure how to do that. Rela, an enigmatic smile making her look older than she really was, hadn't explained any further.
The red panther crouched down, upper body almost to the ground, haunches up and its tail swishing furiously. The ears were up, uncovering the darkness inside.
Is this what Mama meant?
The child whispered urgently, and in an instant mother and daughter pulled the trigger.
A silver-colored bolt sprang from the crossbow with barely a twang, its trajectory straight and narrow. With an almost eerie silence, it plunged through the opening of the ear, neatly coming out the other ear and embedding itself into the trunk of a innocent tree. A surprised mewling was the feline's only response as it fell over, blood pooling underneath its head.
Hmm...Rela, are you okay? Her concerned husband asked as he walked over to the bush, sheathing his sword into the scabbard at his hip, It was a perfect shot like usual, but you usually don't wait that long.
That's because I had help, uncomfortably, the pregnant woman stood up from the bushes, stretching upwards with her empty crossbow in her right hand. She patted her daughter on the head with her other hand, little Reis here's got a good eye.
Arin looked fairly disbelieving as he helped his wife over the bushes, then picked up the quiet two-year-old, letting her sit up in his arms. Reis, who quickly clung to her father, shyly looked up at him with large eyes as he worked his mouth to form the appropriate question to her. So, you were helping your mama, little Reis?
Solemnly, she nodded. Uh-huh. Did W-eis do good?
Reis did an excellent job, her father replied, smiling as he lightly pinched her cheek. She smiled widely, then pouted as he put her back down, go follow your mama, okay? Papa's got to carry the kill, the little girl did as she was told, holding up her hand for her mother to grasp. Before crouching down to haul the monster onto his shoulders, Arin ran a hand through his hair and glanced over at his waiting wife and daughter, Rela, so soon? The question sounded almost rhetorical.
The young woman smiled, adjusting her hold on Reis' hand as well as the one she had on her crossbow. Sooner if I could, dear.
Her husband's light brown eyes flickered with hesitation before simply shrugging and crouching down to the kill.
-----
When Beowulf usually stares at me, it's usually partnered with a smile and a comment or three about how I look, or how happy he is to see me.
I wish I could say it's the same for this time as well.
a small frown appears on his face as he pauses for a second, although it doesn't look like it's aimed at me, I remember something...you said once that the first death you witnessed was when you were two, his memory's not so bad. I nod, and his light eyebrows scrunch together slightly.
...That's not the best response.
Is it so unbelievable? I guess it's one thing to live through that moment, and another thing entirely to hear about it. A vague sense of dread pools in my stomach as he simply raises an eyebrow at my question.
If he's reacting like this now...I don't want to keep talking. Well, I already don't, but...
That's different, his voice is quiet, brandy eyes not showing any real disbelief. In fact, now he just looks curious, why that young?
What does he mean by that?
Ah...yeah, young, judging by the strange expression twisting his face, we're nowhere near the same page here. Somehow, I doubt we're even in the same book, when I was two, I was just wandering around and eating lots of candy.
... You still eat lots of candy.
With a grin, he raises his hand from my shoulder and lets his fingers trickle down the hair framing my face, his thumb trailing along the side of my face. True, but I meant that you were young, so why not enjoy your childhood?
Childhood'? For some reason, the word makes me uncomfortable. It couldn't be helped. I am female, after all.
Yes, I've noticed, but what does that have to do with anything? Beowulf's quizzical expression is so adorable that I can't help but smile. A gentle warmth spreads through me, replacing the torrid tossing in my stomach. He really seems interested about my life prior to the Church.
He really cares.
That'll probably change soon.
Because I was the firstborn and a girl, I had to learn how to help Mama in all areas, especially since my brothers were born in May of that year, the eighth, to be exact. I bring up one of my hands from my lap, counting off with my fingers, I needed to learn everything Mama could teach me about hunting, cooking, sewing, childcare, cleaning, and other home-related things before I turned fifteen.
He smiles, though he looks a bit confused. Why fifteen?
I smile. There always seems to be another question. It doesn't seem like he knows that a hunter's domestic life is very similar from a peasant's, although...he probably wouldn't know anything about peasants, either. Because I was to be taken to Mama's old home to find a suitable husband.
...Now that I think about it, that probably wasn't the best way to say that.
Since I met Beowulf back in April, I've really learned a lot about him. Not just his history or his likes and dislikes, but about what his various facial expressions show about his current emotions, especially when it comes to his eyes. He's really very open when it comes to his eyes, but on the whole he's fairly easy to read at all times. It's as if he's completely willing to be open to me, which really makes me want to open up to him in the same way. Of course, lately he's been exhibiting so many new and different reactions that I feel as if I'm learning about him all over again.
I don't think that I could ever finish learning about him. At least, I hope not.
On the surface, he doesn't seem so changed from his normal self. His face is a bit more blank than usual, and his lips usually aren't in a straight line like that, but he doesn't look that much more different. It's his eyes, which seem to be rapidly and randomly cycling through so many different emotions in a single moment...that's how I know how he's really feeling, but I can't...I don't understand...?
His voice is soft.
I nod. Getting married at a young age is good for building bonds of trust, which are crucial in hunting. For obvious reasons, no one would play decoy for a partner they couldn't trust.
His eyes are settling on disbelief.
I nod. With young parents, they are better able to go out on the grounds with their children, even after said children become adults themselves. Plus, Mama once told me that younger women are more fertile...
I guess that's a moot point with me.
His hand drops from my face to my shoulder as his eyes firmly stay with disbelief. So, technically you're supposed to be married now, right?
I've...never thought about it that way before. If everything had worked out the way it was supposed to, by now I'd be living a comfortable existence with several children and being a devoted wife and mother.
But I would've never met Beowulf.
How strange.
--It must've been fate that we met--
Was such a sacrifice really necessary...was it really worth it?
That is...a difficult question.
Gently, Beowulf touches my face with his other hand, calloused fingers slowly stroking along the bottom of my jaw. Tell me more about your family, a little smile is partnered with his request. His eyes are no longer dark with disbelief, making me feel as if I was more odd than I truly am, but lightened by some sort of secret interest.
It makes me so happy that I'm...I'm interesting to him. At least, so long as it's the good' sort of interest.
But I promised.
-----
(April of Pantora 32)
The sun was at its apex, and even on the mild spring day the monsters preferred to nap in their dens during the noon hour. At the Dular home, there were only four people inside as Arin had left earlier to obtain some goods in Zaland, leaving his wife to watch over the children. It didn't seem as though they needed any actual watching', as they all just sat around and occupied themselves in fairly harmless ways.
The twins Tyrei and Quain Dular, born the same year Reis turned two, were lounging around on the floor, tired out from an impromptu wrestling match. Neither won, as their mother and older sister separated the two before things got out of hand, but they verbally argued as to which identical twin won.
Their older sister Reis Dular sat at the supper table, attempting to create a nice dress for herself, one that wouldn't get in her way as she ran and rolled for her practices in defensive measures with her father. The dark brown dress was, so far, a middling success, with the real loser being her sore fingers from accidentally poking herself with her needle one too many times.
Their mother Rela Dular also sat at the supper table, mostly watching her daughter sew without giving any pointers. However, she was careful to keep an eye on her sons. She was so into her watching, she barely noticed her hunger pangs until her stomach growled. Breaking away from glaring at each other, the twins laughed at the low rumble. As quickly as she could, Reis dropped her partially completed dress onto the table and walked into the space that harbored stove, getting a plate and gathering up some cooling berry cookies left in a pan on top of the cold stove. She daintily walked back to the table, setting the plate of baked goods close to her mother's side of the table.
The young mother smiled at her oh-so-thoughtful daughter. Thank you, Reis darling. Just what I needed.
Tyrei, sitting on the floor with Quain, glared up at Reis. The older of the two, Tyrei's mouth often worked faster than his thoughts. Mama, do you like Reis best?
A small look of surprise fluttered across Rela's attractive face. Why would you ask that?
the four-year-old paused a moment, a look of heavy concentration evident in his stern expression, you always call Reis Reis darling' or something, but you don't say anything with my name.
Not mine too, Quain piped up beside his twin. The quieter of the two, he never really spoke unless he wanted something or was fighting with his brother.
A small smile curved on the young woman's face for a moment, her usual expression of confusion, then she began to laugh. Is that so? That's not very fair, is it? Hmm... she moved off of her chair and joined the brothers on the wooden floor, sitting with her legs beside her, from now on, you're, she tapped Tyrei on the head lightly, wonderful Tyrei', and you're, now she tapped Quain's forehead, my superb Quain'. How's that?
The twins looked at each other with blank expressions as they tried to decipher which one had been given the better name. After a long moment of silence, they seemed to come to a decision as they turned and smiled at Rela. They chirped as one with well-matched voices, reaching out and tightly hugging their beloved mother. She hugged them back, each arm around a child as she kissed their foreheads.
Reis, come over here, Rela craned her neck to the side to look at Reis, who had gone back to her sewing. Obediently, the six-year-old girl put down her cloth and needle and got down from her chair again. She approached her mother, who was contentedly holding each twin on either side of her, long fingers stroking their soft brown hair.
Yes, Mama? the eldest child murmured, large light brown eyes filled with a gentle kindness. Her mother smiled at her daughter's politeness. Neither parent was quite sure of where the young girl gained such a trait, but they felt blessed by it. Quain, as well, took after his older sister in that regard.
Sit down, Mama wants to tell you something important, Reis knelt down in front of Rela, closing her eyes when the physically affectionate mother leaned over to kiss her quiet daughter on the forehead, darling Reis, I want you to know that I won't leave any of my children behind. I want you all to be equally successful. So, the young mother stopped whispering, pulling back to grant Reis with a gentle smile, I want you to help me make sure that happens. Alright?
The eldest child nodded empathetically, long, loose blond hair shifting along her shoulders and back at the motion. Yes, Mama!
To know that her mother depended on her made the young girl just as warm as any hug could.
-----
Wistfully Beowulf smiles, a trace of...something in his brandy eyes. It really sounds as if your mother loved all of you, the arm around my shoulders tenses for a moment before I feel his hand dangle against my bare right arm, that must be nice.
Maybe I shouldn't have brought up that memory.
About what? His face only holds curiosity now, but something like longing dwells in his eyes. We all have different upbringings. And, with such nurturing parents, I can see why you're so kind.
I'm really not sure about that. You're kind too, you know.
He smiles at this. That's something we have in common, then.
Well, I guess so. But I can't compare to his special type of kindness and affection. It's like a gentle breeze on a warm day, the type that caresses one's skin gently, cooling and refreshing.
It's the kind of wind that makes one keep going, because it's proof of a benevolent God.
-----
(August of Pantora 34)
Big sister, I'm hot...
tp...tp...tp
Reis, do something about it.
tp...tp...tp
Big sister,why are you ignoring us...
tp...tp...tp
Hey Quain, maybe Reis is ignoring us because she doesn't love you anymore.
tp...tp...tp
Th-that's not true! Big sister, that's not true, right?
With a large sigh, the eldest Dular child set down the coarse shirt she had been working on onto the tabletop and looked over at her brothers. The identical twins had been lying on the floor in just thinly woven pants, but now the younger twin Quain was up on his knees, staring at Reis with the beginnings of fear edging his amber eyes. Unfortunately, that look was also softened with the wetness that somehow always seemed present in the child's eyes, as he was a gentle type who could be easily brought to tears by his brother. Elder twin Tyrei was still flat against the pine floor, even though he had been warned repeatedly about possible splinters. He had always been more reckless than his brother in that way, as well as more stubborn.
Although they constantly fought, they were inseparable.
Of course it's not true, the eight-year-old rose from her seat at the supper table and walked over to the traumatized-looking boy, crouching just in front of him, I love you very much, and with an innocence that only children can truly master, she smiled and hugged him tightly.
Tyrei, sullen at being left out, closed his eyes and turned his head away. Noticing this, Reis slowly moved away from Quain and shuffled her way over to the pouting six-year-old. she said brightly, poking him in the side. He jerked away and glared up at her, do you want a hug too?
he quickly looked away from her, head propped up with his small hands, why would I want a hug from you--?
The blonde blinked. Because I'm your big sister?
the older twin ruminated on this very important issue for a bit, cutely chewing on his lower lip as he did so. Reluctantly he sat up, looking straight into the sepia-colored eyes of his sister, I guess it's okay, then, he muttered, grudgingly accepting Reis' hug and pulling away scant seconds later.
Big sister, Quain whined, moving up to her other side and pulling at her loose yellow dress, I'm thirsty.
The placid girl frowned at this. But Mama and Papa aren't back yet.
Arin and Rela Dular, completely trusting in the daughter they had so lovingly raised, decided to let her watch her younger brothers while they took some kills over to Lionel castle town. From there the poached monsters would be sent to the fur shop in Warjilis. The isolated Lionel port city depended on hunters to supply them with monsters to make into products for trade, and therefore paid more for the remains than Dorter. After all, the trade city of central Ivalice had a multitude of resources to draw from and paid less for them.
Business pervades all occupations, and the concept of supply and demand' was not lost on the isolated hunting family.
The young parents had left for Lionel castle town that morning, and weren't expected until sometime before nightfall. Neither the mother nor the father set down restrictions in any shape or form, but the young girl was still wary of leaving to go to the well at the bottom of the hill. She could head down to the well by herself, but that would mean leaving the volatile twins alone. She could take them, but the heat of the summer days often made monsters hostile and restless, and if she had to face one down with her brothers in tow...
I'll go to the well alone, she announced while getting up, you two have to promise not to fight though, or else I won't get any water.
Tyrei turned to Quain. That means that she doesn't wanna hear you cry like a baby when she comes back.
I'm not a baby!
Crybaby, crybaby!
I'm not a baby! Big sister, make him stop!
For the nth time since their parents had left, Reis sighed. She loved her brothers, she really did, but she couldn't be expected to have the unlimited patience of her mother at such a young age. She had watched her brothers countless times since she was deemed fit to do so, but this was her first time doing so completely unaided. This meant that her parents really thought she was like an adult. They respected her enough to let her do this.
She couldn't let them down now.
The young girl nodded to herself. She couldn't let down her parents. One day, one day soon, she was going to be just like her wonderful Mama. This was just another test, just like all the tests that her parents put her up to in hunting and domestic skills.
It was just a short jaunt down the hill.
Her parents were always encouraging her to be stronger. She was happily dependent on their praise, willingly drunk on their love. Because of that affection, she was willing to do anything for her family. And when she became another year older, that meant she could do even more for them.
She could protect her brothers.
And when she turned fifteen and truly became an adult, she really would be able to do anything for her family, both the one she was born into and the one she would create.
There were risks she had to undertake before that time, though.
Tyrei, Quain, you're coming with me. Come on, get the bucket for the well.
The boys pried themselves away from engaging in their usual arguments and ran to the kitchen, where the sturdy wooden bucket was stored.
Pale pink lips stretched at their cooperation. They curved at her decision.
She could handle whatever problems this decision incurred. She was sure of it.
After some preparation time later, which included finding a hunting crossbow and some bolts as well as breaking up another fight between the twins, the Dular siblings left their comfortable home and took the usual twisty route down to the well. Tyrei and Quain, while holding the bucket between their bodies in a stubborn, possessive manner, trampled down the path inelegantly. Reis walked at a steady gait behind them, loosely holding onto her weapon with her left hand--as ambidexterity was a talent she had not yet completely mastered--and watched her brothers with a content gaze.
They reached the well without incident, and the young girl took the bucket away from her brothers. Securing it to the rope connected to the simplistic machinery of the well, she let it fall down until she heard a splash, then manipulated the rope around until she felt certain that there was enough water in the bucket. She was about to pull it up when she felt a calloused hand on her shoulder. Hm, what is it... her eyes followed the direction of her words as she turned her head. Quain was there, longish brown hair falling into unusually focused eyes. A sudden nervous tremor jumped in her belly, what's wrong?
Although he had a softer personality than his older twin, Quain Dular seemed to be better at hunting than Tyrei for one reason only: like his older sister and mother, he could easily attune himself to the language of the monsters. However, while his female counterparts were only fluent in the language of no words, he seemed to have an extra sensitivity when it came to the energies that monsters wielded. That particular energy wasn't magic, but something very much like it.
This strange empathy made him an excellent tracker.
There's a large monster watching us from the hill, he said in a quiet tone, I...it wants to kill us, although not to eat us. It's big, and it's strong, a small shudder shook through the little boy as he stared up into his sister's darkening expression, what is it, big sister?
Rela worked on different things with different children. With Quain, she worked on his tracking abilities. With Tyrei, she placed different weapons in his hands to make him an efficient hunter that didn't rely on just one tool of the trade. With Reis, it was on domestic chores and memorization, as the girl seemed to remember the tiniest quality about the most insignificant things.
It wants to kill us.'
That could be anything, the young girl thought as she subtly scanned the cliff, a skill learned from her defensively-inclined father.
Although not to eat us.'
The images of chocobos and bull demons, as well as their relatives, instantly came to her mind as Tyrei silently moved closer to the well.
It's big, and it's strong.'
Light brown eyes caught the glimpse of a reddish hide behind some trees some distance away on the hill. With an outstretched hand, she pulled Tyrei, then Quain behind her, groping for the crossbow she had left on the rim of the well at the same time. She had just about grasped the long-range weapon when the monster suddenly charged through the trees, leaping just before its hooves would land upon air rather than earth. When it landed, although it was quite a distance away from the siblings, the earth rumbled and quaked furiously, causing both twins to lose their balance and fall into their sister. They clung to her, latching onto her waist, and the three looked up at the powerful monster.
Stalking towards them was a regular adult minitaurus, easily identifiable from its close cousins due to its gray underbelly and dusky red shoulders. Its elongated bovine head was tiny and looked incapable of supporting the weight of the giant bone horns protruding from either side of it. Adding to the lack of proportion of the monster was how miniscule the head seemed on top of the hulking mass of muscle that formed the rest of its bipedal body. Tiny, beady black eyes glared hate at the humans before it.
Behind Reis, the twins whimpered.
Suddenly, Reis knew there was nothing she could do. The only weak points on the giant monster were its eyes, and she knew that she couldn't hit the tiny orbs of black before the minitaurus rushed them. The last time she made a shot like that was when she was two; incidentally, that was the first and last time she didn't have to rush to make a shot. The doubt that clenched her heart tightly squeezed just a little harder as she realized that the hide of the bovine was too thick for her simple little crossbow's bolts.
She had to protect her brothers.
Peering into the murderous, dull eyes, she couldn't help but speak. Maybe, she reasoned to herself, she could form a plan for a safe escape. Why do you want to kill us?
It stopped, air whistling out of the monster's snout in unmistakable derision.
(Human, are you that stupid?)
Reis was an innocent, even with all the death she had seen over the years. I don't understand.
(LIAR!)
They all flinched, even monster-deaf Tyrei, as the sudden roar collided into their fragile ears. With rising fear, the eldest child couldn't help but continue to talk as her mind flashed through possible plans of escape. Mama and Papa always said that lying is a bad thing to do, so I wouldn't do that to you.
(Monsters kill humans. Humans kill monsters. You kill my kind, I kill you)
The law of nature in its purest form can never be disputed.
The blonde's words died in her throat as she realized that nothing she said would deter the monster from its goal. I won't let you, her voice was higher than usual, betraying her fear as she slowly raised the crossbow, aiming the loaded bolt at the approaching monster's right eye, I have my brothers to protect.
Her fear wasn't really for her own life.
(Hm. Humans don't usually care to protect their own. Only their own lives do they truly care for)
I don't want to die, Reis swallowed painfully, the dry walls of her throat grinding roughly as she talked, but it's my responsibility to protect my brothers. That's what Mama said, tears sprang up in her eyes as the mentioned siblings hugged her tightly, but she didn't dare move her other arm to wipe them away.
The earth groaned agonizingly beneath them as the minitaurus took another step forward, nostrils flaring as it grunted.
(Odd. You don't look strong. Why protect your kin when you yourself are weak?)
She blinked, and the gathered tears rolled down cheeks still round with baby fat, hanging off of her chin for a moment before falling to the ground. Because I
havetowanttoneedto
must.
It was the only answer she could give while standing within throwing distance from death.
The monster lowered its head, curved horns pointing towards the siblings, and appeared to be considering something. After an excruciating moment of stillness, the minitaurus turned around, grunting lightly.
(Spare my kin as I have spared you and we can co-exist. Do not heed my warning and die for it)
Long after the hulking monster had left, Reis couldn't lower her left arm. The crossbow pointed into the air, ready to shoot, ready to kill.
But she couldn't lower it.
-----
the word isn't so much said as it is breathed, and I can't help but feel a spark of pride once a grudging sense of admiration fills his dark eyes, and events like that were fine with your parents?
They were just happy that we were all okay. It was a scary event, but it was just something to live with. Well, it's not as if they could've done anything about the monsters short of killing off the entire population.
Smiling softly, he shakes his head. I really meant moving to a different location, but that too, I guess, my face goes completely blank. I don't know about moving away, but the other solution' ...that's a horrible idea, ...that wasn't possible?
Of course it's not possible. We're hunters, not murderers. We kill monsters for the benefit of other humans, yes, but we don't kill for the sake of killing... what am I saying? It was an innocent question, but somehow I feel offended... sorry, um...
It's okay, Beowulf says quickly, I didn't realize it until now, but we were really raised differently. Voluntarily living in one large monster's den, teaching children how to kill and such...it's so different from grammar lessons and running around city streets, he looks at me with a slightly embarrassed expression on his face, it makes me wonder if there's a best' way to raise children.
I look away, out at the hill just before us.
I don't like that question.
If he's willing to ask me a question like that...I can't help but feel like God is pressuring me to tell him that he won't have to worry about that with me.
A cruel God, I'm sure of it by now.
I suppose that question doesn't really matter right now, he says just a little too loudly. Ah, okay. We sit silently for a couple of seconds before his arm shifts slightly around my shoulders, ah, Reis, there was another memory you wanted to tell me, right?
Definitely cruel.
I don't want to!
his deep voice is so alluring, like a tempting treat for my ears, for me that I can't help but look over at him. There is curiosity etched along his wonderfully masculine face, and his eyes...his eyes... if you don't want to remember or tell me, you don't have to, the conviction in his voice is at odds with the blatant curiosity, but it really isn't a mixed signal.
If I don't tell him now, then I really don't deserve him. I deserve to be alone if I keep pushing him away.
I can do this.
Oh, Beowulf, my attempt to smile is a pitiful waste of energy, and one that draws an odd expression to cross his face, I'll tell you everything.
The gnawing guilt of cowardice or the pounding anxiety of bravery...which hurts more?
It really doesn't feel like I'm being brave.
-----
(August of Pantora 39)
It was a rare occurrence, but the entire Dular family was at home.
Rela and Reis were in the kitchen, setting up breakfast. Arin was outside with Tyrei and Quain, watching the boys as they carefully skinned a behemoth. Every once in awhile their father would absently shift his right arm around, which was uncomfortably tied up in a sling after a bull demon had charged at him a few days before.
The matriarch of the family looked up from her kettle on the stove. Reis, could you go down to the well? I could use some more water.
Okay, Mama, the girl on the cusp of womanhood chirped brightly and reached for the well bucket, which was in its place next to the stove. She picked it up and made her way through the small cabin and out the door, Papa, I'm going to get some water.
He nodded at this with a smile brightening up his face, blond stubble visible around his cheeks and chin. Reis secretly guessed what her mother really wanted the water for and grinned. Little Reis, you'd better hurry up, your brothers are almost done.
Peering around his shoulder, she could see the truth of his statement. Don't worry, Papa, I'll be back before those slowpokes ever come close to finishing!
You're on! Tyrei looked back, amber eyes shining with fun and his usual energy. He nudged his brother, Quain, hurry up, we can't lose to Reis!
Ahh! I almost cut myself! Stupid! With that war cry, the younger twin elbowed the elder, and the elbowing quickly degenerated into a shoving match. With an embarrassed little grin, the oldest Dular sibling quietly left the scene and down the side path to the well. It was barely after dawn, which was why she felt safe not taking a weapon with her. Besides, her experience with talking to monsters had improved vastly since the time she had talked her way out of being killed by a minitaurus.
She felt completely safe on Bariaus Hill.
Humming quietly to herself, she reached the well and attached the bucket to the end of the rope, sending it down in time with her unstable melody. She took her time to gather up the water, pulling the rope every which way while enjoying the mild temperature of the late August morning. The sky was a wonderful shade of blue with a yellow orb steadily climbing towards its apex, promising a typical summer day.
--tomptomptomp--
She heard the sound of human footsteps and looked up, faint surprise blossoming on her face at the noise. Except for her family, it was odd to see humans traipsing around the hill. Before her stood three men, wearing strange clothes. Reis didn't really know anything about fashion styles other than what was practical to make, so their blue and beige clothes didn't form too much of a reaction in her. They also had unsheathed weapons, but she quickly brushed that off too. This was Bariaus Hill. Hello there, she smiled kindly, innocently, are you lost?
Aren't you a pretty girl? One of the men stepped forward, right up to the lithe girl. She blushed at his comment, having never heard a compliment from someone who wasn't a family member. She didn't know anything about the attitudes of other people other than her family. And so disarmed by the comment, she didn't notice the leer on the man's face.
However, she did notice the cold steel of his sword when it was brutally thrust just below her ribcage.
Nothing more than an inaudible whisper escaped her lips as her entire body tensed up at the sudden attack. With impossibly wide eyes, she saw the man smile almost kindly before the blade was yanked out of her stomach and he kicked her down. All she could do was lay there as her body twitched and trembled beyond her control.
You didn't haveta do her in so fast. I'da liked to have some fun with her first.
With that little girl? Well, maybe if we're lucky there'll be some more up ahead. That girl used this path, right?
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. It hurt to live. But she had to warn everybody, she had to!
As she began to close her eyes, the sudden sleepiness smothering her gently like a hug, she couldn't help but notice just how blue the sky was...
-----
I had started lowering my head before I reached the part about reaching the well, my voice following. It...it hurts to talk about that. A part of me still wishes that I had kept that hole in my memory sealed up.
Who in their right mind wants to remember their...their death?
With his arm still around me, Beowulf's other hand touches my chin, softly raising it with his thumb. We stare at each other, although with his face is as blank as mine feels...it seems more like we're mirroring each other. His thumb slips down from the bottom of my chin, his fingers lightly pressing against the right side of my neck. After a moment, he pulls it away. You're warm, this is said in an almost accusing tone, one that I can only sigh at.
I almost want to apologize for what I'm about to do.
Pulling away from Beowulf, I stand. Wordlessly, I bend over enough to grab the end of my hem, lifting up the skirt of my dress first over my pants, then over my bare stomach. He sits up quickly, eyes widening in surprise. Reis, what're you... his words seem to die a quick death as he stares.
I wore pants today for a reason.
What kind of wound does that look like to you?
He would know. He's a knight, after all.
He flinches at my words. My God... slowly, almost tantalizingly so, he raises his right hand. The feather-like touch of his thumb is something more than any of his caresses as it traces over my angry-red scar, and my throat tightens at the feeling, is there...is there another scar on your back?
I shake my head. It...it went up.
His eyes widen and he pulls his hand away. I don't understand. Why a killing blow on a defenseless girl... he looks at me with a sort of gloomy expectancy. I can't blame him, what happened?
Letting go of my hem, I watch as it softly floats down to my knees, then I kneel down a fair distance away from him. I can only watch as his eyes flicker when he notes the distance between us. His face tenses at this, completely at odds with the way he casually leans against the tree, long legs outstretched before him.
I don't think I could willingly finish if I could feel his warmth next to me.
What happened?' My lips tremble as I take in his mostly blank face. I became the person I am today.
-------
It was white, almost blindingly so.
She distinctly remembered the sky was blue, but when she looked up there was only white.
She touched her arm, but there was no feeling, no warmth.
There was something wrong about this place.
(That deep, hm?)
The voice was grave and fairly pulsing with wisdom. It wasn't anyone she recognized. But she still liked it anyway, because she had felt a sudden tingle throughout her body when it spoke.
It felt like being alive.
(Poor childling. Tell me, are you scared?)
A little bit, she said honestly, admiring the way her voice seemed to bounce around, should I be?
(No. Do you remember anything?)
Her name was Reis. Reis Dular. She was the oldest daughter of Arin and Rela Dular, and she had two younger brothers, Tyrei and Quain. She was thirteen and a half. She was a hunter. Is there something I shouldn't remember?
A tiny nudging in the deepest recesses of her mind prodded at her that she had forgotten something of vital importance, but she ignored it.
She had an excellent memory.
(Then, I will be able to fulfill my agreement)
Suddenly, she was curious at what sort of agreement would include her and her memory.
(Little one, that promise I will keep. A darkness like the night untainted....)
It wasn't bright anymore.
(Open your eyes)
She did so.
The sky was blue, and she blankly stared up at it for a few minutes before deciding to get up. Sitting up, she noticed a giant red dragon sitting next to her, dark purple blood steadily flowing from a wound on its front right leg. She stared at it, and with sickly yellow eyes the dragon stared back. She felt tired again, so she laid back down and closed her eyes.
She slept, no dream willing to drift at the edge of her consciousness.
The next time she woke up, there was no red dragon. There was, however, a man in heavy white robes who was lightly shaking her shoulders. Are you okay, miss?
She stared at him blankly.
Do you have any family around here?
The answer was yes, she knew that. But also...she tried to dig deeper, but she couldn't remember.
There doesn't seem to be anybody else on this hill. Which town are you from?
But her family lived on this hill. She knew that much. They loved her a lot.
Why would they be gone?
Maybe they abandoned me.
She couldn't stop that thought from ricocheting around her head, gaining speed with each bounce.
There has to be a good reason.
She seemed to be moving with the man who had been asking her questions, but she was reasonably sure that her legs weren't moving.
I'm alone.
And somehow, that statement felt right.
She was alone.
-----
We sit in silence for long, stretched out minutes that seem to float by, linked together and inseparable. With each moment liquid anxiety sloshes around in my stomach, churning and colliding in the small space.
If I had ever thought that remembering would bring me a measure of closure, I was wrong. It seems like all there is now are more questions.
What happened to my family?
What happened to those men?
What am I?
He looks at me. Sometimes when he gazes at me it feels like he's looking into me. I...it's uncomfortably pleasant. Well, it's mostly pleasant.
Right now, it hurts.
I'm not sure I understand, the small frown on his face confirms this. Small bubbles of uneasiness bounce around inside my stomach. I don't...do we have to stay on this subject? so you were, ah...revived and the memory of the event was sealed by that red dragon. Right?
That's a succinct way of putting it.
He moves up to me, reaching out to touch my face. I let him. I'll let him do anything.
I feel powerless.
...It's in the past, Reis, he sighs, drawing me up to his chest. The hand on my face slips through my hair to the back of my head. I can feel his other arm snake around my waist, holding me against him, at least you're alive now.
As long as I breathe...is that something to be thankful for?
My eyelids drift downward, multicolored sparks behind them. Why me, though? And what does that make me now? My hearing, my senses...what am I? What have I been for the last eight years? I... my throat tightens. My eyes are stinging, I'm strange, right?
I knew I was different. I knew that. But...at least before I thought...
Before, I was at least certain that I was human.
Why...what was the point of subjecting me to this? Tear away at my humanity, at my memory, all for another chance at life?
All I am now is a living desecration of the laws of nature.
You're Reis, aren't you? He whispers in my exposed left ear, hugging me tightly, Isn't that who you are? Anything else is irrelevant. Everybody's strange, so why should you be any different? His last question is lighthearted and teasingly fun.
Fun? Is there something fun' about this? Is there?!
Sudden anger flares through me, burning through the thick cobwebs of depression that were layering in my mind. Blindly I shove him away, glaring right into his surprised face. Is this funny to you? I can't keep my body from trembling as I wrap my arms around myself. My vision is blurry, my head is pounding erratically, I don't think this is funny at all... my throat painfully constricts, and these tears won't stop falling...
God, I'm pathetic.
Sloppily I start wiping away at my tears with the heels of my hands, keeping my head lowered so that he can't look at my face.
He must be embarrassed to know someone as pathetically ungrateful as me.
I am.
Lashing out at the one person who's tried from the very beginning to understand me...I'm a horrible person, right? Others come and go, die or move away, and he stays behind, so of course I have to alienate myself from him too.
I hate this.
It would've been better to stay dead.
Movement by movement, the sound of the grass being flattened invades my ears. I smile bitterly. Congratulations, Reis. Even Beowulf has his limits, and I've more than trampled on them by now.
Someone like me deserves to be alone.
I...deserve it...
Strong arms wrap around my shoulders. Slightly chapped lips press against the center of my forehead, then my head is nestled underneath his chin. I'm sorry, he whispers softly, I didn't...I was just trying to lighten the mood. I didn't mean to hurt you...
I...I can't take this anymore.
Even if I deserve it, I don't...I don't want to be alone!
With a muffled wail, I throw my arms around his waist and cry even harder into his chest. One of the buttons of his jacket is poking my cheekbone, coolly imprinting itself onto my skin. He stiffens for a moment--I suppose I've surprised him yet again--then relaxes, lightly stroking my hair.
I don't understand why he's so patient with me. Why does he put up with me?
He has such amazing strength of character...
Can't I...at least pretend I have that as well?
Moving back from his chest, I smile embarrassedly as I hurriedly wipe away the tears with the back of my hands. I-I'm sorry...I'm being really irrational, okay, my face doesn't seem too wet anymore. I put my arms loosely around his waist and look up into his slightly concerned face, I don't know how you can stand to deal with me...
Well, Sis is a lot more emotional, so I don't think you're so bad, he shrugs, pulling me closer to him. I rest my head on his shoulder and he kisses me on the forehead once, twice before smiling at me, besides, you're stressed. With that sort of memory, I can understand why.
Well, if he says so... Thank you for understanding, I sniffle, making a face at how...thick that sounded. Ew, I think I'll go wash my face at the well.
he says easily, unwrapping his arms from around my shoulders. I let go of him and stand up, making my way over to the well. One of the chocobos is there, staring forlornly into it. It looks over at me, sadness in its large blue eyes.
(Please, I desire water)
Wow, it can talk. How long have you been waiting there? I reach for the rope, hoping that there's a bucket at the other end of it. Pull, pull, pull...
(I don't know)
I don't know why, but I feel sorry for it. Hm, something's appearing...a bucket. Is this the bucket I used that day...?
Hm.
After unlatching it from the rope, I give it to the chocobo, but it quickly backs away. It squawks loudly, fear in its eyes.
(Humans go first. Humans always go first)
...Odd answer from a monster. It must've been raised by humans...how sad. Has it really lost all its instincts? Strangely unsettled at that idea, I place the bucket on the rim of the well and, with cupped hands, I gather up some water to throw on my face. It's cold and...oh, I don't have a handkerchief. Drops of water drip from my chin and the tip of my nose.
...Well, at least it'd be hard to tell which parts of my face look messy now.
With my forearms, I quickly wipe away at the water on my face. Reaching into the bucket with a single cupped hand, I take a few sips of water. Crying really dehydrates a person...I don't remember ever really crying before. Though...it feels nice to get all that emotion out, even if I looked ridiculous doing so. Here you go, the wood grain of the bucket is rough against my hands as I push it towards the waiting chocobo. Lots of travelers would have to have been using it over the years, or else it'd be a lot softer, sorry to take so long.
Its head is bowed, yet it's looking up at me. it says in a tiny voice before dipping its beak into the bucket.
(Thank you)
It's a little too polite for a monster. I smile at it and tread back to Beowulf, running my wet hands down the front of my dress while crossing through the dirt path into the grass. He's standing up and facing the hill with a rather...strange expression on his face. Is something wrong? I murmur as I approach him, glancing over in the direction his eyes are focused on. Yes, the hill is definitely still there.
Oh, hello, he smiles at me, I was just thinking...do you want to go up there and find your old home?
Ah...well, that'd be... my voice sounds hopeful to my ears, but...I feel more than that. More than nervous, or scared, or anxious...
What will I find?
It's like I keep tearing down all these walls, even though I cringe at whatever's behind it. And there are always reasons for building walls...some things need to be protected.
Do I need to be protected?
I take another glance at the hill. So close...it's just a short jaunt over to my home from here. It's just an unassuming chunk of land. The residents of the hill can hurt me, but I'm not scared of that. What I could find out by going there is scary, and it's right in front of me right now. I could never have another chance like this one.
I'd never forgive myself if I didn't take those few steps forward.
Don't worry, Beowulf's arm slides around my shoulders. I glance over at him...hm? The look on his face is unusually intense... I'll be with you. I'll protect you.
From what? The only thing I'm truly scared of is the truth about what happened all those years ago...about me. In the end, it's only me who has to deal with that knowledge. If I wanted to be protected, I wouldn't have come here.
But, it's nice to know that I'm not alone. Whatever happens...I won't be alone.
I don't need to be protected, I smile calmly as he raises an eyebrow at my words. Moving out from under his arm, I grasp his larger hand in mine, my thumb running along the back of his hand, but can you stay with me anyway?
Even if it's selfish of me to ask...but could you stay with me always?
He shifts his hold on my hand, entwining our fingers together as he smiles softly at me. His smile...I love all of his smiles... Anything for you, he murmurs, and all I can do is smile as something inside me flares out, bathing me in warmth and contentment and...there really is no way to describe all these feelings. He laughs a little, just as long as you smile like that to me every once in awhile, I'll be happy. Shall we go?
Somehow, I manage to temper down my ridiculously large smile into something a little more subdued. Yes, let's go.
I'll be fine, no matter what happens.
Quietly, we trek up into the hill using the old side path that I used to take in my youth...it makes me feel old to think that.
--Reis, Reis! Let's race down the path!--
Has it really been such a long time?
--Big sister, I stubbed my to-e an' it hurts--
It doesn't feel that way...
--Darling Reis, you always look like you're dreaming, even when you're walking--
I guess I've never really grown up past that point.
--Little Reis, don't run off like that...I'm not that young anymore!--
Or maybe I just don't want to admit I have.
Although the path continues upward, there's another path swerving to the left. Gently, I tug on Beowulf's hand and he stops and looks around. This way, the words slip out of my mouth. He nods, still taking in the scenery. I don't see why, it's really quite plain around here as well. There's a fairly large plain' made of dirt and weeds in front of us, which is abruptly ended by a large cliff wall not so far ahead, and a continuation to the sloping path to the right of him.
I'm home, everyone.
Will you greet me back?
We walk over to the cliff wall, then we turn left and walk alongside the wall until...ah, here it is. A narrow path leading directly to my hom--!!
Wh-what is this...
What's wrong? Beowulf whispers. His hand is crushing mine. I turn to look up at him as he looks forward, Is this a dead end?
It didn't...it wasn't like this...where...
I want to go forward, but there isn't anything to go forward to.
Beyond this path, too narrow for large monsters to pass through with the cliff to the right and emptiness to the left, there's supposed to be an widening with a small cabin at the end of the path.
That's what it's supposed to be...
Where...where is it now?!
(I thought I felt a unique presence)
A voice...? I look around...who's talking to me? Nothing in front, nothing back where we came from...up? Glancing up along the cliff, I see a rumbled-looking green dragon, nothing but passive curiosity in its sickly yellow eyes.
Something in those eyes...it won't hurt us.
Beowulf starts, and when I lower my eyes from the dragon to look at him, he's reaching up with his right hand to the hilt of his sword in its scabbard on his back. I whisper. He looks over at me, confusion swirling around in his dark eyes, he won't attack us, and I had better be right about that. I look up at the dragon again, isn't that true?
(I have no motive to. Although, I am a bit wary at the fact that you brought one of those dark-robed death bringers to this place)
What? He is a human, Beowulf is an honorable knight. He's not to be lumped in with common murderers.
(Forgive me, I often mix up my synonyms)
I'm not nearly that naive--of monsters' intents, anyway--but I take a deep breath. Ah, doesn't really help... Is there another reason you've come here? I highly doubt he came over here just to make insulting comments.
(Impatient, aren't you? I just wanted to see you again. You are a rarity and I'd like to talk with you for awhile. Of course, if you have any questions, perhaps I can help quell your curiosity)
That's...that's awfully kind for a dragon.
--(Childling, this is our boon. In return for your help, we can lift the darkness that blinds you from your true potential)--
Of course, they've been nothing but kind towards me. It's a little unsettling. I glance over at Beowulf, who looks very out of place. he whispers when he notices my eyes on him, what's going on?
I squeeze his hand gently. Even Tyrei learned how to talk to monsters after awhile, so it's hard for me to remember what it's like to be around someone who is monster-deaf. It must be hard to live like that...to live with a deafness to everything but humans. It's okay, it just wants to talk to me.
He smiles wryly. Well, better you than me, all things considering, I smile back as he visibly loosens up. If he gets uncomfortable with the situation, we'll just leave.
I'm curious, but Beowulf is still alive.
I won't be like that woman.
Tell me, I gesture with my left hand towards the now-empty opening, there used to be a cabin there eight summers ago. What happened to it? To this, the dragon does something that seems like the equivalent gesture of thinking deeply, bending its head down and staring out at the distance. I wonder... Can you remember that time?
(Time flows like a steady river for our kind, neither disturbed by drought or storms, so the memory is easily retrievable. That time eight summers ago was an especially memorable time, for the Exiled One came to pollute our kind's ways once again)
Exiled One'? Who is this Exiled One'?
(One of our own, one who watched the downfall of humanity and their pitiful climb to their petty ways of this day. Feeling pity for them, that one sought to enlighten several of them with that one's own life, blood and aura both. They transformed into something approaching us, but kept their human forms. Because of that, these creatures tried to integrate themselves into human society after being rejected by us, and eventually died out)
I see... So, he was exiled because he dared to interfere with the natural laws... something about this... if you feel that way, why are you lowering yourself to talk to me?
(Those ones of before were purely human in mind. Petty, selfish, just like humanity has always been. However, you show an interesting potential, one that we would not mind to call ours')
Later...I'll get back to that later. I don't think I want to deal with it now. So, the Exiled One was here. Why?
(To visit the human of exception)
...Mama? That would be the only answer to make sense. She would often visit the dragon dens, so I would think she was an exception of sorts... Okay, I know who you're referring to, to my words the dragon spreads its underdeveloped wings, fanning them out.
(My curiosity is stoked. Who was this human? My kind tolerated her for a number of summers. Although we do prefer to merely watch the going-ons of the world, we are partial to those brave ones who would allow us to quench our interest in the doings of humanity)
That would be my mother, I murmur. My right hand is squeezed, and I glance over at Beowulf's concerned face. Squeezing his hand back, I lean into him just a bit. He's so solid...he's so accepting...
(Ah. An interesting revelation. Indeed, it was her that the Exiled One came to visit. That one did so almost proudly, as if it still belonged in this place. But there were also other humans, ones with the killing intent blazing in their auras)
N-no...I don't...
(My kind watched as those humans, typical of their kind, stormed about. They seemed to be looking for something. That kind always is. Somehow they wandered along this path and discovered the dwelling that once stood just yonder of our meeting here)
I can't... Stop it, please!
That's...that's more than enough!
Those men...that man that killed me...they wouldn't have any compunction not to...
(I see that you have come to the conclusion that could only result in such a meeting)
To say that so passively...I don't care if they are dragons! Why didn't you help? If you could talk of Mama with something of fondness, why...?
If they could just sit back and watch as my family was killed, they're just as guilty!
Beowulf lets go of my hand, wrapping his arm around my waist and holding me against him. I don't look over at him, but I do lean into him even more.
If I didn't have his support, I don't think I could...I still don't think I can take this...
(That is our way. We do not involve ourselves into human conflicts. At least, most of us do not. The Exiled One only arrived at this time, hurrying over to your dwelling along this level of land that I now sit upon, and killed the intruders after their attack. What happened next is beyond my understanding, but that one then had the dwelling consumed in flames and then left the same way it had arrived)
The Exiled One set my house on fire?
Why would a dragon do a thing like that?
(The breathing of fire is not natural to any of our kind, but that ability is known to those of his color. I personally have heard of our abilities awakening around that human you call mother'. Perhaps she willed such a thing to occur)
...I wouldn't rule that out of her mindset. She's always done things for the sake of the family', and she might've seen that to be the best way because she didn't want my family's bodies to be...desecrated...
God.
(Now, I must query. You have an aura that belies your true self, but that would imply that you were not at your dwelling when the attack occurred. It whispers of the Exiled One's influence, just like that seal that once existed deep inside your mind. I would like to understand where you were at that time, and why a seal would be placed?)
wrapping my right arm around Beowulf's waist, I feel a bit more steady. He squeezes me a bit, his fingers light against my stomach.
With his support, I can do anything.
I was found by those murderers at the well on the north side of the hill, the dragon's wings flap once at this, its expression tinged with interest, I don't know why I had a seal to block of the memory of what happened here--
--(Little one...that promise I will keep. A darkness like the night sky untainted...)--
It was a promise, I whisper, the words hushed to even my sensitive hearing, but...I don't know who made it promise that...
I don't want to admit it.
Could she really have...?
(You are being scarce with your information. So then, I must ask why such a promise was made)
No...Mama never would...she wouldn't...
But she had to have done it.
She had to be the one who asked that Exiled One to make me like this, to seal my memory of that time...
--I'll do anything for my family in order to protect them. That's my duty as a wife, as a mother. You'll understand that too someday, my darling Reis--
You went too far, Mama.
To break the laws of nature, to seal up my memory without my consent...even if she wasn't the actual person doing it, she was the one responsible.
To protect me...no, that's not protection at all.
That's just playing God.
The Exiled One made a promise with Mama. I don't know what exactly was said, but it must've been to revive me and block the memory of what happened that day, I can feel everybody's eyes on me even as I lower my head, apparently she thought it was best to have me...start over...
Was that really the best solution? After I arrived at Murond, I could only think that my family abandoned me for some reason or another, that everyone would do that to me, that I was always going to be alone...
There was something wrong with me. That's why.
It's my fault.
But it isn't...it never was...
(How interesting. Truly, human nature must always be constrained, or else a situation will lead to the most implausible outcomes. What an enlightening talk!)
I'm glad that you're so happy about it, I mutter sullenly. Even if I am talking to a monster, finding happiness in another's sadness should also be against the natural laws, but now I have a few questions of my own.
(Certainly)
Well, might as well go with the best one first. What am I?
(That would depend on what you wish to be. At this point, you have the potential to be greater than the two parts, or to stay as you are, something lesser than the two parts)
I...I can't be equal? Those are my only choices?
(Of course, you can never go back to being just a human. You could never become just a dragon as well. Therefore, it stands that whatever you are must consist of those two parts: either a human with draconian characteristics, or a dragon with human characteristics)
And I suppose that the greater than the two parts' would be the dragon with human characteristics? I see.
(So then, what do you perceive yourself to be?)
Before I returned to Lionel, there's no way I would've thought myself to be on equal standing with other humans. Of course, I didn't think I was greater than them either, but at that time it wouldn't have been too hard to consider myself something not a human.
Now I live by my emotions. I have emotions! I can laugh and cry, love and dislike, I can be anything I want to be because of the things I feel.
--You're Reis, aren't you? Isn't that who you are? Anything else is irrelevant. Everybody's strange, so why should you be any different?--
I guess that is kind of funny, now that I think about it.
Why should I be any different?
Forgive me, but I consider myself a human, I look up into the dragon's face, I don't think it's the lesser at all.
There are just too many memorable humans for a thought like that.
(A pity. Indeed, I almost feel as if that one finally made the right choice with you. Of course, you will note that in your current form, it isn't at all possible for you to live on through your heirs. If this weren't so, there would be a lot more descendants with our aura, however pitifully diluted it would be by now)
Even that's not my fault, huh? I've figured that out, yes.
I wonder if she knew about all these effects. I wonder if that would've mattered to her anyway.
How far should a parent interfere in her child's life?
Twisting my mind, my body...that's too far, even out of love.
(If you're wondering, the Exiled One can be found along the plains of sand to the north. As that one keeps persisting to interfere in such a way, perhaps that one can answer the questions that I cannot)
Thank you, I whisper. Someday, I'd like to find that dragon. A red dragon...
(And, with my curiosity sated, I will leave you to your life. Do not misuse the gifts granted to you, and someday I hope you will regain the presence of mind to evolve. Humanity will only corrupt one such as you)
With a grunt--the only audible noise that the green dragon has made throughout our entire conversation--it departs, methodically turning around and lumbering off.
Even if I think that humans are capable of horrible things--and they are, considering why I'm like this now--I still want to stay as I am now.
There are a lot of good human beings.
Beowulf turns me around slightly so that he can look at my face. He looks relatively calm, although his smile is just a little worn out, did you find out everything you needed?
I better tell him what I learned. That dragon, it said--
I figured out everything from listening to you...though I don't know how you can talk to something that doesn't...make noises back? His eyebrows scrunch together, But then again, I didn't hear that mediator when she was talking to you and you froze up...I think it'll just go over my head, he shakes his head...wait, he didn't hear that mediator talk to me either? ready to go?
But still...there's something else I need to tell him. Even if I don't want to... Beowulf, there's something else I need to tell you.
He sighs, running his right hand through his slicked-back hair. Is something wrong? I place my left hand on his shoulder and he looks at me with weary eyes. Is this something that affects us right this moment in our lives?
...Not exactly. No, but I think it is important.
--You know, if you want to talk I'm right here. I'd like to hear what's going on in your mind--
That's what he said at our very first meeting. So why...?
And I'm sure it is, his voice is soft as he reaches up and touches my face with his other hand, I appreciate that you're making the effort to tell me things, but the sun's going down and you need to get back before Buremonda decides to protect you from all of us evil knights' by locking you up in the church, and although he says it in a joking manner, it somehow doesn't seem all that funny. I wonder why...
--As long as you reside in Lionel as a woman of the Church, whether it be as a cataloger or ward, you are not allowed to establish a relationship with a knight of any rank--
Hn. Probably because it sounds like something he would do.
But he's right, the sun is starting to go down. It doesn't...yet it feels like we've spent a long time here. I'm sorry, I start to move forward, but he wraps his other arm around my waist, pulling me up to him.
Don't be, he whispers, I just can't handle too many things at once. I'm happy that you wanted me to know about you.
Slowly, my arm moves down from his shoulder to around his waist, where it meets up with the arm already there. Because Beowulf is on the slim side, my hands are able to clasp behind his back. Are you happy with that knowledge?
I don't know if I am.
I'm not the one that it really matters to, his eyes are gentle as he looks down at my face, it doesn't change a thing as far as I'm concerned. But, how are you feeling?
Tired. Very full, but I guess it's best that I knew about what happened to me and why.
If I had known everything I learned today eight years ago, would I have still constructed my little cocoon? Or would I have tried to reach out to other people?
Maybe those questions don't really matter. If the past can't be changed, then why should I worry about it?
He hugs me tightly for a moment longer before slowly loosening his hold on me. We better go back. I think your escorts are bored by now, he pauses, his lips slightly curving upwards, I want you to know that this doesn't change a thing about our relationship. I'm still completely in love with you, letting go of me, he holds out a hand to me, we better hurry.
I smile and take it with my right hand. I love you too, and with large smiles on each of our faces, we start quickly walking back down the hill.
Up until now, my life was not mine when it came to choices. I never had one.
I'm a hunter.'
I do appreciate some of the things I've learned through my experiences. If I wasn't a hunter, I would've never learned to listen to the language of the monsters. If I wasn't a cataloger, I would've never learned how to read and write. If I wasn't a dragon-altered human, I wouldn't have been able to help Beowulf with that mediator.
They're all me.
I'm a cataloger.'
But I've never had a choice in what I wanted to be. My lifestyles, even the kind of body I have...none of those were my choices to make. So, why exactly have I been angsting over things I can't change?
I'm a bizarre mix of human and dragon.'
I don't want to feel guilty because of the things I never had control over. I want to be happy with my life, with who I am. By now I deserve that much.
I deserve the good things in life, too.
--(So then, what do you perceive yourself to be?)--
I'm Reis Dular. Nothing more, nothing less.
-End to chapter 21-
Sorry for the delay, first of all. Life happened, inspiration died. This chapter had the answers everyone was expecting to read, right? I'm not one to care if an answer is predictable', only that it makes sense.
-If you've come across the Super Monster Battle of Bariaus Hill, it's a lot easier to see why I picked that site as Reis' birthplace. If you haven't, it's basically a battle with every single type of dragon (except a tiamat), some behemoths and maybe a chocobo, and maybe a couple guests. The only other places I can remember dragons residing are Bed Desert, Germinas Peak and Deep Dungeon, and the latter shouldn't count. Oh, and the colliery in Goland, but...
- Do not misuse the gifts granted to you': Not like she has many to abuse. Enhanced senses and a very limited Dragon Tame/Cure hybrid are all she has.
-The Exiled One' is, in reality, the guest red dragon of Bed Desert. I've always wondered why a red dragon would help your guys with other dragons and humans.
-Rela must've had Monster Skill on her for the Exiled One to be able to burn down the house, as Fire Breath' is a hidden skill on a red dragon. Its normal skill is Thunder Breath, oddly enough.
Reviewers!
Hey Luna. While adoption would definitely be a viable option--one of my best friends is adopted as well--with the time period involved there would most likely be an element of shame involved, what with the women exist to be mothers only' mentality most likely preexisting in the pseudo-medieval atmosphere of the game. Then again, I might be thinking too deeply about the issue. ; But I do understand what you're saying, and it'd be nice...if only Reis could be persuaded to such a thing.
More people should definitely experiment with Reis. With just a tiny bit of effort, she can be an amazing warrior/mage, especially with the kind of growth the Dragoner class has. Heh...my Ramza seems to get tossed into Monk, Ninja, Geomancer, then tossed back into Squire. He's a very good support character.
Arreat, I hope you're not disappointed by this chapter. I guess you're not the only one disappearing as of late. ;
Hello, Jaded Soul! Well, I certainly hope that you enjoy this chapter. Ah, Verden...of course he'll be addressed soon', but I'm curious as to what you think about him at this point. However, I think I understand what you mean about his protection of the white mages and Reis.
Suggestion noted and word changed. That word just sorta snuck in and didn't want to leave...and thank you very much for pointing it out to me.
Ah, Toastyann, now I understand what you mean. The image I have of Beowulf is as the type of person that would withstand a lot from the person he loves, so he's probably learned to stay patient when she clams up. Then again, that quiet quality of hers is what interested him in the first place, so he probably feels he has no right in getting annoyed about that when he knew about it from the beginning. Or something.
When you first said Reis has Taurean characteristics', I was a bit worried that I had integrated too much of my own personality into her character. But now that I see what you're talking about...nah, most--if not all--can be explained by the life she used to live and what she's experienced. I don't particularly care about matching up exactly to the zodiac, but I have to admit that the game draws a fair amount from the zodiac and so I've tried to match up to that. In Reis' case, she's someone who's constantly evolving, so I barely glanced at the description of a Piscean.
Please, don't shorten your reviews! I find them to be very interesting and enjoyable, and they really help when I'm looking into the characters themselves. I just like pointing out things like that. ;
Nice to see you, junketsuna kishi! Heh...I didn't even realize that mistake! Seems like I'm getting sloppy when two different people can point out two different mistakes...but, thank you very much!
Yo, Star Eevee! I'm just happy that you're feeling good enough to start reviewing again! I don't know about you, but I tend to see our version of FFT having its own language separate from English. ;
Ah, someone finally mentioned Mustadio! I was starting to think that he just wasn't going to get any love. Musty is 12 here, as his birthday is in October. Here's an interesting tidbit for you: everybody seems to get Reis and Beowulf at different ages, and I made a mistake on Reis, Beowulf, and Meliadoul's ages. Melly's is fixed at 23, and Reis and Beowulf are more...fluid. Unfortunately, I was writing chapter 11 when I realized it.
As far as I've been able to tell (after a long time of wrestling with the issue), Balbanes first became sick two years before the end of the war, and died the winter before Ramza entered the academy (which seems to be at least two years before chapter 1). However, in that scene of his death, the war seems to be at a close but not finished, so he would have to have died in Pantora 49. So, he was first affected by the poisoning in Pantora 47. Just remember that Ramza is the same age as Mustadio and Izlude (usually), so in this story he's around 12/3, depending on the birthday. Fun fun fun, huh?
For the sake of my guilt complex, I preferred to give that chapter a higher rating than the situation itself might call for. Sometime you'll have to tell me how it's like to read a first person, female-perspective of a make-out scene when you yourself are a guy. ;;
Thank you for reading! Please feel free to toss out your questions and comments my way, and I'll do my best to answer. If you have a comment or something not related to this story, please contact me through email. And with that, I'll see everyone later.
Interlude #2: That Person Just For Me: All throughout my life, I've noticed a couple of things. One of them would be that war may be necessary, but it's usually fought for all the wrong reasons. But who would expect a knight to think that?
Another thing is that women have the capacity to be very devoted, a lot more so than most men. Mum could only think of Dad, Salia could only think of Wiegraf, and all Sis ever talks about in her letters is about how much she can't stand her husband. Well, maybe that's a sort of devotion too.
When I was training in the Eastern Lands, I picked up pieces of one of the languages there. And out of all the pieces I gathered, one of them really interested me because it applies to all the couples I had seen up to then: dake no hito'.
That person just for me'.
Until now, I didn't think it'd ever apply to me.'