Chapter 11: Sleep to Dream, Haunting Soul

The only sounds in the halls were their steps as they headed for the rooms assigned to them. Ashton was glad Precis hadn't decided to go to the ruins - he didn't especially like the thought of yet another dark dank place. The front lines didn't seem all that appealing either, but at least there would be others.

Claude glanced over at Rena, who seemed to be off in her own little world. Somewhere back behind them was Dias, whom she'd be with while he was with Leon getting the needed stone. He frowned, not liking that situation one bit. But then, he was going with Opera. What did Rena think of that?

"Rena..."

"Hm?" She looked over at him.

Realizing he'd actually said something out loud, he quickly spoke to cover his tracks. "Oh, I was just wondering if you'd be alright going up to the front lines." 'I just worry what might happen between you and Dias... but do you wonder about me?'

"I'll be fine. Ashton and Dias will be there, and Ruprecht and Precis too. Besides, I'm a healer, and if its as bad as they say up there, they could use my powers," she said, studying his face. "I need to make sure the line can hold out while you guys go get the stone for the Lacour Hope."

"Yeah..." He looked away, avoiding her gaze, not wanting her to see anything he thought which might be betrayed by some minute expression. Perhaps this time away from Rena would allow him to straighten himself out. Still, she seemed terribly fond of Dias. It was just because they grew up together, right?

Back behind everyone Dias tailed along, not thoroughly happy with the situation. Rena was going to be at the front lines. The ruins weren't much better, but she would be with him, which should have been all right. Yet, he didn't like Rena being in the face of danger, where she could be hurt, or killed. She was the only thing left in the world he did care about. His own well-being was nothing. He should have died that day, but he didn't.

Instead, now he roamed the world, fighting bandits he encountered, occasionally taking jobs to survive, and continuing worrying about Rena - and the rest of Arlia. He didn't really care what the people of Arlia thought, but it had been home. It was his life, his choice to make on what he did. The village also reminded him too deeply of Cecille. Even now, two years later, the memories still hurt worse than the sharp bite of any bandit's blade or monster's fang. 'What is my life? I was weak, now I am strong. The best swordsman in all of the lands. The Lacour champion. For what?'

He shook his head slightly, shifting a lock of blue hair from his eyes and exhaled sharply. It hadn't gone unnoticed, and Ashton looked behind himself at the swordsman.

"You ok?" Ashton inquired, not wanting to be rude, but asking out of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Typical cold tone. The same tone he'd used at the Lacour Tournament. Detached, disaffected, yet something underneath all that, something barely audible, signaled something which wasn't fine.

Ashton knew better than to press issues though, and let it drop. Whatever it was, he knew it probably had to do with Rena. She would be with him, Ruprecht, Dias of course, and Precis at the front lines. Ashton wasn't sure he liked Precis being there, but she was along to help defeat the Sorcery Globe. He would do his best to protect her though, no matter the costs. Perhaps that was the same issues plaguing Dias with Rena.

Precis, just ahead of Ashton, was chewing on a nail, thinking about what had just happened. She was now heading to the front line in defense of her homeland. Just a few short weeks ago, she was stuck at home tinkering with Bobot. Now she was with a group of people trying to save their world. What had she been thinking? Was she good enough? Would her inventions hold up? What if she failed? Would everyone laugh at her, and mock her? She glanced back quickly, spotting Ashton. He had been the main factor in her going. He understood her. Would he support her? She held Bobot a little tighter and looked beside her at Opera. Opera would know and understand. But she was going to the ruins. Precis wished a little that she had decided to go to the ruins with Opera, but she decided it was best to not make things awkward.

Opera's mind was filled with thoughts of Ernest, yet every time she thought, her mind would eventually drift to the young blonde swordsman ahead. So many things at once in her mind, she didn't know what to feel. She exhaled softly, and with it, thoughts of both men left her mind a moment. She looked up, hoping to find Ernest there tomorrow. Maybe then she could find peace in her mind. She looked ahead, seeing Celine also in thought.

Celine's mind was mulling over the past. Beside her was someone she'd once been engaged to. Now, they were traveling together, though he was married and she... She took a deep breath, realizing that perhaps her life would be over in mere hours, or days, perhaps sooner than she had ever dreamed. She had wanted to be free, wandering around and wanting to experience everything and to find great things instead of settling down. So many times she had turned people away, and now, she felt rather bad about it. She could have had a life and family before it all ended. If everything hadn't happened the way it had...

Bowman's mind was on his wife, the life he'd been leading the last few years, and the quiet solitude it seemed to have. Settling down hadn't been a bad thing, but Linga had been dull. So along he had come. His intentioned perhaps had been a bit pure, to assist, but he did find the company attractive, mostly. His fellow mates weren't too bad either. Young Claude needed guidance, and Ashton was level-headed enough. He wasn't too sure about this Dias person, though if it was true he had been the champion from the Tournament, it would all be well. Leon though, was another matter, one he didn't particularly like.

Leon was watching Precis and looking at the fascinating thing that was on Precis' shoulder. His mind was also caught up in the great achievement which had landed him here with them, the Lacour Hope. If he could get the last bit, it would make him famous and well-known. He would achieve the glory and recognition he deserved; known as the high genius he knew he was. Yet, it didn't really settle all the other issues. He would still have many other things to discover, and he still would probably be treated as a child. He feared that if he failed, everything would be ruined, and that he would lose the labs and library of Lacour. This troubled him. He had to do it, to prove everyone wrong.

Ruprecht's mind was filled with the agonizing knowledge that everything they would try would probably fail in the end. He knew his fellow's weaknesses, but could they exploit them? Would they be able to handle the sheer power he knew lurked within the tower? Shin alone was quite powerful. Ruprecht kept his power low-key as they traveled together, afraid that if they knew what he could do, they might get discouraged. He felt so trapped, knowing that he was the balance for them, yet knowing his life would be over the minute Cyril - or any of the others - had a chance to kill him. So much and yet so little there... he loved this fascinating life these people led, and the many things about Expel, but they would all be gone if they failed.

One voice finally broke the silence. "Here we are. There's only two rooms left for you all, but enough beds for all of you to sleep comfortably," an escorting guard said. The guys filed into one room, while the girls walked into the other, everyone exchanging glances before heading in the doors.

~*~

"I can't really believe this," Claude said, flopping back on his bed. The room was warm enough that he had shed his jacket, shoes, and socks.

"Believe what?" Ashton asked, looking up from investigating his boots.

Claude looked upside-down at the possessed swordsman. "That we're really going to some ruins and also defending this country. We're splitting up. And... well... everything that's happening. Its almost... surreal."

"Don't delude yourself too much, Claude," Dias said, removing his cloak. His was the bed farthest from the door, right next to Claude's. He didn't honestly care either way where he had ended up. He untied the cloth wrapped about his waist and began removing his shirt, facing away from everyone. "This is quite real, and everyone needs to remained focused." He closed his eyes as he slid off the green tunic. The last layer left was a brown long-sleeved shirt. 'Don't lose it lest you lose everything. I still have the reminders form the last time I let it happen two years ago.'

Claude looked up at Dias from his lounging position on his bed across the other bed at the back of his head. "Oh come now Dias, lighten up once in awhile. I'm sure everything will turn out... alright..." His voice trailed off has he caught sight of scars running along Dias's back. Silence filled the room.

Dias knew why there was silence. He glanced down at his arms, to the marks there, the slowly fading traces of his almost-death still clinging. A reminder of his failure. A reminder that at one time he had been weak, been preyed upon, and discarded. Almost dead. Yet, he was still living, and the marks only taunted him. He hadn't found the bandits yet, but he would see that every bandit paid their due for Cecille's suffering. And for his parents. But not for him. "This..." His voice faltered. The eyes of five others were on him. Even Rena didn't know about this, but he knew it was bound to come now. Just as soon as they got to the front lines. He may have figured Claude to be weak one day, but he knew Claude was getting better. The Tournament had proven that. But he was certain foes much better than even himself would lie in Claude's path.

"This was the result of thinking everything is alright, and lightening up and not caring. I lost everything that day. Everything but my own life." He bit his lip, still facing away form the others. "Cecille... my sister... I watched them kill her, helpless to act. My parents... These are the reminders of that day. Since then, I've devoted myself to being the strongest, that I may never fall like that again. And to avenging my family, my sister." He turned to face Claude, their eyes meeting. "This is why you have to be strong to protect Rena, Claude. If you want to be the hero, you can't be weak. This is what happens..."

Dias bowed his head, and threw on his brown shirt, not bothering to button it as he headed out, heading for the arena. His sword was still at his side, his echoing footsteps the only sound accompanying him. He knew there would be a practice dummy there, something to vent his emotions on. Anything was preferable rather than break down in front of them.