He decided to sneak away while the others were not paying any attention to him, creeping away from the Schrodinger camp and once again making his slow way towards the mountains. He was extremely relieved that he had done nothing horrible to his fellow man, and did the only thing left to keep them safe; walk away and never come back again. Clive, feeling better now that he had eaten something that was more or less edible for a human, left the area, moving around behind some rocks and judging how long it would take him to get to his destination.
That destroyed ruin was the most likely place Ravendor would hide out at, even if it was, ironically, the place where he was reputed to have died. Clive had barely escaped with his life intact, how the hell did Ravendor manage to do the same? And even so, why did the man never contact him again? Even if they were not friends anymore, they were still bitter rivals. And now, by the looks of it, they were sworn enemies.
… Why do you hate me? Clive wondered to himself, I saved your life when you wanted to die, we went through Hell together, in fact, you were the one who even named me, when I was… just a foundling. Before then, I only went by as a stupid nickname…
Nothing seemed very clear to him, like he was looking into a pool of water when the ripples were just beginning to manifest. What had happened? Whydid Ravendor wish to harm Kaitlyn, or him for that matter? It was so confusing, and the lycan curse slowly changing his body made it no easier. For as long as Clive had stayed in the Schrodinger camp, that blasted cat had just made things uncomfortable. It wasn't just the way it had looked so warily at him, where he had no choice but to return the favour, but an unknown impulse in his system had repeatedly screamed at Clive to get up and chase the creature until it was cornered. It was a good thing he had gotten away in time before he actually did it.
Making a huge mistake by paying too much attention to his thoughts, Clive forgot that he was supposed to be inconspicuous and walked straight into another clearing, right into Todd's line of vision. He smelt the human before he heard or saw him, divided on what option he should take. He took a few paces back, alarmed, but then calmed down when Todd wasn't even paying much attention to him at all. A short while passed, and the swordsman finished off his round of successive strikes against an ancient and dead tree, the bark hacked away by the ritual. Noticing the sniper's entrance, he sheathed his sword and bowed, paying his respects.
Something in his mind switched itself on when Clive noticed the sword being kept docile in the pale wooden sheath, making his right hand twitch ever so slightly. It was a sword, a real sword, and not just the fabrication of some random dream. "Hello," Clive said, forcing himself to be calm, "I was just about to leave. Are you practicing?" Todd nodded, and Clive automatically continued, some of Boomerang's knowledge flowing into his words. "You wield a blind man katana, I see. Secretive, yet not too powerful, as a basic generalization. I would prefer to keep my sword as what it really was, a weapon, not a simple walking cane. It is honourable to let others know that you are armed."
Todd looked intrigued. "Are you also a swordsman?" He asked, "I was under the impression that you were a sniper…"
Clive had to cover for the slip of Boomerang's tongue, shaking his head and chuckling. "I do not have much, if any experience with the sword at all. I suppose you could call me a beginner, but I do seem to have some knowledge on the subject." That was the truth, even if it was Boomerang's knowledge instead of his own. He could feel the other metal demon's presence, and although it was not a violent or malicious one, it still bore a quota of quiet intrigue. Clive was not the only person interested in this conversation.
The afro-bearing swordsman leant against the tree, unbuckling his sheath from the belt around his waist. "May I ask you the name of your style, if you have one?" He said. Clive answered immediately, but Todd could have sworn that the sniper's eyes had just changed colour there for a second, from an icy blue to a crimson red. It might have just been the light reflecting off his glasses, but he just wasn't sure.
"Akuma hatashiai gensoku." Boomerang replied with infinite finality. "The demon duel principle."
"Demon…?" Todd began to reply, but caught the way Boomerang was staring intently at him with an eerie smirk and dropped the question, shrugging. Clive calmed down after a few moments, and Todd decided to take a chance and quench his curiosity. "Very well, then," He announced, tossing Clive the katana within it's plain wooden sheath, the sniper catching it on reflex, "Could you show me, please?" The demon looked at the sword as if he didn't know what to do with it, but then nodded and smiled, pulling it out of it's saya.
You were sworn to the way of the warrior, and you made a pledge to the Mother herself that you would fight for her… That you would die for her…
But I did… die for her…
No, you died for yourself, you died for Luceid, and the chance to come back… You died for another shot at life, a clean slate to work upon…Tell the truth, you died for the sake of the humans… for all humans…
Although the weapon truly did not belong to him, the size and shape of the blade gave him a subtle feeling of familiarity and calm, even in the way the simple wooden grip slipped pleasantly into his hand, and they way the blade shone in the sun. It was right, this felt right, and with a slight dryness in the back of his throat, Clive stepped into what he assumed was battle position one.
Spacing his feet out slightly from one another, right foot in front and the left one held back, he lowered the sword slightly so that the very end of the handle was parallel to his navel, both elbows slightly bent for better reflex. Now the blade was held straight with it' naturally curved edge geared perfectly for an attack, the man wielding the sword looking surer than a beginner was supposed to be. There was a slight error in the amount of space between sword and body, but Clive already seemed to have the general gist of it, so Todd decided not to point this out. Secretly, he was impressed. The green-haired man looked towards Todd in question. "Is this correct?" He said.
The swordsman nodded. "That is one of the five basic postures, Chudan no Kamae. Move your arms forward a little bit more and you would be in correct position… yes, that's it." Todd walked up to where Clive's imaginary opponent should have been, the man now pretending to hold an imaginary sword and mimic the same move. "You can see that if you were to attack me now, it would best be done by a slice through my collarbone and shoulder, a fatal blow." He paused for a bit, then continued. "Do you understand Okuri-ashi footwork?"
Clive spoke before he even had a chance to think, deriving information from a hidden source. "I do. It is the basic movement of the Ki Ken Tai Ichi principle, in allowance for a fluid strike with both and equal attack and defence." He blinked after a moment, lowering Todd's sword. How in the world did he know that? Was Boomerang supplying him with information again? No, it didn't feel like that, he was still in control, but now he knew things that he had never studied or learnt. Why did a sword feel so much better in his hands than a rifle ever could have been?
Todd stepped away, awaiting to see what kind of skills the sniper could show to him. Clive tested the weight of the sword a few times by raising and lowering it slightly, trying to find a particular grip that he was most comfortable with. The handle was a little too short for his liking, but he combated this by spacing his fingers out a little bit more, holding the entire focus of his strength in the tense gap between his thumb and index finger. Clive loosened the tension in his arm, somehow knowing that too much stress would make it more difficult to swing. "What should I test this on?" He asked Todd, still slightly unsure that what he was doing was right.
The swordsman got off the thick tree he was leaning against, the mottled decrepit bark scarred with the slash-marks of Todd's previous training. The wood inside was solid and as tough as a heart-of-pine, encased and unable to be reached. He patted the trunk gently, accidentally dislodging some scabious lichen. "This tree is already long dead." He said. "Feel free to use it as a training dummy."
He executed the attack as soon as the command hit his mind, moving forward in a concentrated flash and focussing the muscles in his arms, to prepare himself for the amount of energy exerted in his swing, removing the weaker hand from the grip and holding it for a defensive counter-strike that would never come. The edge of the blade met the rough bark of the tree with a slight whistling of air, though unable to conjure a proper conscious thought, Clive was amazed as he met no resistance and continued the swing, doubling back and swiping two more times for good measure. He skidded to a halt several feet behind the tree in a crouch, his sword arm inclined away from his body out behind him, the other one clenched against his chest to slow his thudding heartbeat.
Throughout all of this thought, feeling and emotion, only a nanosecond in time had passed. His blood had burned like it was on fire, frenzied in his system to swing a sword again outside of the dream world. It had been exhilarating, indescribable, even better than he ever could have remembered it…
… Again?
He blinked once in a confused silence, drawing himself to his feet once more. Angling the sword around carefully so it's edge was now pointed harmlessly at the ground, no longer the focus of his thoughts, Clive turned around to face Todd and bowed in the traditionally required manner, in utmost respect. Mesmerized, Todd watched Clive point mysteriously to the aged tree with a smile, the green-haired man almost expecting it when the solid wood seemed to freeze for a moment, and then fall to pieces in three separate parts, cleanly cut by the flash of a swift moving blade. It occurred to Todd now that Clive was certainly no amateur, a beginner could never do anything like that.
"That technique has a name," Clive said dully, in nearly a hypnotized tone, "An accelerated successive sweep executed thrice, known as the Shadow Boomerang Maximum. I almost forgot… what the rush felt like…" He smiled ironically, raising the sword a little so he could see his reflection in the blade. "The thirst for the fight… can drive a man insane. But I don't know if I should… I am no longer supposed to… I cannot hurt others anymore. I can only protect, I swore that I would only protect…"
"Swords do not kill people," Todd said, returning the bow that Clive had offered to him, "People kill people. A sword is an instrument, it can carry no blame. Only the wielder will bear guilt and take responsibility, therefore a sword art cannot be biased towards either good or evil." He stopped talking for a short while, staring at the vacant stump of the slaughtered tree. He could clearly see the rings inside, so accurate the amputation had been. "I don't think I've ever seen such a clean cut like that before." He admitted.
"So says the student of the fast draw." Replied Clive with no change in his smile, reflecting on the moment when the long-haired swordsman had skewered Boomerang straight through the stomach, spilling the demon's, no, his own blood everywhere. "I will take that as a compliment, then." He continued, resting a length of the smooth steel blade in the palm of his left hand, the metal not bearing even the slightest blemish from the execution of the deadwood tree. It was a remarkable tool.
"This sword is well made." Boomerang commented, taking the chance to borrow Clive's body for a second, even though the sniper was technically still there and listening. Boomerang wasn't about to do anything drastic, so Clive did not interfere. "Forged in the old human tradition, no doubt." The demon smiled, finding a new insight. "This is the traditional blade of the fast draw… So, there are still Fenril Knights even now?"
Todd was taken aback. "Yes, well, not really. It is my family's art, handed down throughout the generations so that we may protect and guard the remainders of royalty left in Filgaia." Secretly, he wondered how Clive knew about that, for there had been no Fenril Knights around for nearly a thousand years. His ancestors had been the last of that noble line.
"The Schrodingers are descended from royalty?" Clive questioned, going back to normal but still keeping up the conversation. He had always assumed that they were just a noble family and that was all, he never knew about these ties to royalty. It was interesting. Raising his sword arm above his head, he began to slice at the air in a vertical swipe, rhythmical and tiring on his right arm. It was an old exercise that made one's strength increase, but he still continued to speak. "There has not been a monarchy in Filgaia for quite some time, it has only been local law and anarchy as of late. You and your teammates must have a very ancient lineage." The exercise felt good, and so he continued to do it, counting each swing.
Wait a moment. A noble lineage, blonde hair, magical abilities… Clive could not help but think of the golden-haired woman he had seen in his dream, one of the three humans charged with killing Boomerang, who had killed Boomerang. What was her name? He was sure that Boomerang knew it, he just had to think a little. Clive counted to twenty absently in his own mind, the calm brought from the train of thought jump-starting one of Boomerang's memories. Cecilia Adlehyde, the daughter of royalty, and to the metal demon who had existed so long ago in the past, just another human to destroy. Maya was… a blood descendant of the Innocent One? Well, it would have explained her fixation on the tear drop, that was for sure.
Who we are in the present will always be accredited to the deeds committed in the past, for evil, like the fading environment, or for good, like the humans who have managed to survive this far… To find strength and hope in the harsh… desolate, blowing wind and sand…
Clive stopped when he realised that Todd was staring at him, falling into silence. The afro-bearing swordsman anxiously took a step back, if he had his sword, he probably would have raised it in defence. Confused, Clive stepped forward and offered the katana back to him, holding the hilt out in non-aggression. "What is the problem?" The drifter asked, still smiling and in a good mood. Todd was staring at Clive's boots, or more accurately, what was no longer hiding behind it. The sand guard seemed to have come undone while he was swinging Todd's sword around, and he, being his careless self, must not have noticed this.
He was wagging his tail with pride at having rediscovered Boomerang's sword art, forgetting that it was important for him to keep it hidden. Going white, he dropped the steel-bladed katana and stepped away, hearing the weapon's loud clatter.
Todd did move to reclaim his sword, drawing a shorter knife instead. The swordsman and the demon looked at each other warily. Todd had been on quite a friendly basis with Clive since Maya had been kidnapped by Siegfried, it was both their duty to protect their team's leader, so they did have some traits in common. Now, Todd wondered if this was Clive at all, this… creature was plainly not human. "What are you?" Todd demanded grimly, increasing the grip on his knife a little. "Have you come to harm Milady Maya and Master Alfred? You shall not get past me!" He declared.
Clive looked downcast, no longer trying to hide his mutation. "I do not know what I am," He admitted sadly, turning away, "But I used to be called Clive Winslett. A while ago, that was my name." Todd slowly slipped his knife away, regretting having drawn it. The creature claiming to be Clive didn't seem too dangerous, it had not attacked when it had the best chance. "And as for your team," He continued, "I would never hurt them unless I had absolutely no choice in the matter. You have all been very good to me, thank you." He sat down heavily, away from the sword, and settling into a cross-legged position, resting his hands and the end of his tail in his lap.
Moving carefully, Todd stepped forward and hesitantly picked his sword up, trying to stay away from Clive. Taking a moment to check that his sword was still clean, he slid it back into it's wooden saya and it became a simple walking stick once more, seeming to be perfectly harmless. "And you are still hunting this monster?" He asked, making conversation. Clive nodded, but did not reply, absently tapping his fingers against his leg. "Why?" Todd asked.
"… I am actually hunting two monsters…" He explained, raising his head to watch the nearby mountains, ringed with hazy clouds. Adjusting his glasses, Clive continued. "One is very close to me, too close for comfort. I will kill it as soon as I get the chance.. The other," His tone went as dark as night, "Is a blackened, godforsaken bird, one that should be shot out of the sky. He has taken my cu- … daughter hostage, and for that, I shall hunt him to the ends of this planet." No, that was not entirely true. Clive would go far beyond Filgaia just to get her back. He stood up. "Now I had better be going, I cannot stay here any longer."
"Well, whoever you are, do not come back to this place again," Warned the swordsman, walking briskly back to the campsite and quickly moving away from Clive, "If you are not Mr. Winslett, then do not pretend to be. Humans should stay with humans, and the others must find what they want by themselves." He paused and then tapped the sheath of his weapon, a hardly noticeable gesture. "Monsters are not wanted on this planet, that is why drifters are charged with dispatching them. Creature, you are not wanted here." Todd walked away, a hand on his sword in case of an attack. Clive looked calm on the outside, but on the inside he was seething with far too many emotions.
… If I am not Mr. Winslett, then who am I? I remember him, I remember all his thoughts and actions, and that not too long ago we were once the same person. Am I just a monster now? Is this… is this what monsters feel like when they are left all alone? It makes me feel like I want to hurt somebody, or anybody… just like what a full-blooded monster would have done…
"Right, right." Clive said to nobody, starting to walk in the opposite direction to where Todd was heading. His voice was incredibly calm and nonchalant compared to the wounded cry of his own inner voice, to protect himself from his own pain. Still unarmed, he began his walk into the mountains again, hoping to the Guardians that this was the correct direction. "I should not kid myself about this, the others will be unable to find anything to help me, even if I do rescue Kaitlyn and bring her home. It does not matter, I will remain a monster either way. I may as well… get used to it." He sighed deeply, feeling more than ever his own metallic weight, "Who knows? Perhaps it shall not be so bad…"
Catherine… How will you be able to love me now? You cannot love me… You will hate me, be disgusted with me… and now I am alone…
I will always… be alone.
He almost tripped again, over the same stupid obstacle that had hindered him during the morning. He was getting used to that as well, it would be the easy part. The hardest part, what he knew to be completely and utterly true, was the concept of probably never seeing any of his friends or family ever again. Hell, Todd was right, drifters were hired to kill monsters like him, just like that wolf creature he had slain only a few days ago. If fate had a hand in his miserable life's chances, it would mostly likely be that Virginia and the others would end up hunting and killing him. Well, Clive didn't mind that, it would be one less demon to worry about, and then the race would finally be extinct.
And Filgaia could be happy again. It was all that Clive wanted. If not for himself, he just wanted the others to be happy. Despite all the friends and loved ones he had, Clive had somehow convinced himself that nobody would miss him when he died. Who would miss a monster, anyway?
Understanding this, he smiled.