Chapter 12: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

The chill air of the castle was nothing compared to the chill within the man striding down the halls towards the arena in the depths of Lacour Castle. He was certain that if someone made the fatal mistake of trying to stop him, they'd end up dead. It was a rare day indeed when Dias Flac had any show of emotion, but this time he couldn't help it - everything had just managed to trigger something in him, and he wasn't about to let everyone else in on his show of weakness.

'No guards,' he noted as he strode into the dark and deserted area, heading for the inner ring. A small corner of his mind wondered if anyone would actually bother to find him. He didn't care either way; he just wanted to work out his thoughts, preferably in peace.

~*~

"Did you hear something?" Precis asked, sitting up on her bed near the door.

Opera walked over to the door and listened a bit. "Someone walking down the hall, that's all."

Rena, having the bed furthest from the door, sighed then. "Somehow I know it has to do with Claude and Dias."

"No doubt probably because Dias is so cold, and Claude just seems to have a way of pushing his buttons," Celine said while brushing her hair. "I recall Mars quite clearly enough, plus what happened at the tournament. Was he always like that Rena?"

Rena flushed slightly as she recalled Dias when he was younger. Every time she thought of him before that day, she always recalled her crush and the things she'd written in her diary about him. And that always embarrassed her. "Well, he's always been kind of distant and aloof at times, but after.... well, he did change. He's not entirely the same person I knew, but its him. Age and time of course."

Opera walked back to her bed and sat down. "Ah, yes, they can change a man, especially when events occur. Ernest hasn't changed much since I've met him really. But I like him like that."

"Maybe someone should go check on them...?" Rena asked. She started to get up when they heard the door next door open and close. Precis skittered over to the door quietly and opened it, looking out.

"Hmm... Claude's walking down the hallway," she whispered back in the room.

"Anyone else?"

"No."

~*~

"Can't sleep with all this noise," Leon muttered, burying his head deeper into the pillows and pulling the cover over his head until only his puffy blue hair and his ears were sticking out.

"Sorry," Ashton said quietly, staring at the door awhile longer. Bowman had already decided to go to bed, and Ruprecht was facing away, laying in bed. Ashton sighed, and decided Claude could handle this on his own. It was between him and Dias anyway, so he had no right to be there. So he crawled under the covers, thankful for a comfortable and decent place to sleep, and started counting barrels to fall asleep.

~*~

Claude walked quietly down the empty halls, knowing exactly where Dias had gone by the faint steps on the plush carpets. No one was around, something which also would have appealed to the lone swordsman in his mind. Claude had decided since he had started it, he would talk to Dias. He hadn't intended to do anything to bother Dias - in fact, he had a respect of sorts, although Rena's affection for him did bother Claude. Of course, a lot of other things bothered him, but he had to settle this one once and for all.

He heard the clean whistle of a blade slicing through the air as he stepped into the dimmed arena, making his way to the spectator seating above the ring to look down. It was easy enough to get over the walls if he had to, but he felt observation would be best until he knew when it would be good to talk. He was only standing there a short bit, watching Dias practice on a dummy, when the blue-haired swordsman turned, lowering his blade to gaze at Claude, his eyes neither hostile nor greeting. "I'm not surprised," he said evenly. He then returned to his practice, back to Claude.

Claude's eyebrows rose slightly as he looked down, leaning on the wall. "Am I that predictable?" His voice was muted, trying not to show any emotion either, but failing slightly as a hint of surprise broke through.

"Perhaps, Claude. Best not get too predictable. Its-"

'-a weakness," Claude finished for him. "You're that way at times too, Dias, perhaps not in combat, but outside you seem to be." Claude paused, then licked his dry lips before continuing. "I... I came to apologize for if I'd upset you or brought back something painful-"

"No, its quite alright Claude," he said, stopping and sheathing his sword. His back still to the blonde, he looked upward. "I remind myself often about it as it is. I lost everything that day. I lost my parents, and my sister Cecille. I've never given mercy to any bandit since. And Rena-" He stopped a moment, looking down. "I couldn't remain in Arlia, a weak, defenseless fool who couldn't protect his other little sister. So I left to train and learn, and become strong so no one could ever hurt me. And then, maybe then, I could protect Rena. I couldn't fail her like I failed my family."

He turned, and Claude could see it in Dias' eyes. Something almost imperceptible, but true nonetheless. A hint of emotion. His face didn't betray him though, and he continued. "These scars remind me of how I failed once. And if you hadn't been there... Back at Mars, Rena told me how you had saved her, and that she believed you were the warrior of light. Perhaps she is right. That doesn't change much at all."

"Does it? Here we are, now trying to save the world in its time of need," Claude said. "I still can't say I'm him, but what's the difference? I'm still no match in skill to you. A hero-"

"Is what?" Dias queried, walking over. "A title? Something placed on those who save the lives of others? I've saved lives since that day, but I'm no hero, no saint. I do what I will. I have no delusions of grandeur or any such nonsense. I want to survive, and I want to protect those I care about, and there's only one person left who really matters that much."

Claude flinched slightly. What were Dias' true feelings about Rena? Was it as a sister, or more? "Look Dias, we're stuck in this. To survive, we have to get through this fight. Besides, there has to be more to it than that."

"Why are you fighting Claude?"

He stopped, at a loss for words to the older man's questions. He gazed down into his eyes, searching for something, some hint of what was expected, and found nothing. Why was he fighting? To save Expel and its people, right? He closed his eyes, angling his head away slightly from Dias' intent gaze not too far below. There was a reason. Two, but one of them was something he'd always kept to himself. "Its because my father thinks I can't do anything myself, and I wanted to get home. I wanted to go back to the Calnus, back to Earth. I thought maybe I would find a way while investigating the Sorcery Globe. But I also have to prove I can do things myself, and that I am not my father. I'm tired of being in his shadow." He opened his eyes, gazing across the empty arena. "I'm tired of being in everyone's shadows, eclipsed by them."

Dias chuckled then, catching Claude off-guard. They looked at each other in silence for awhile before Dias spoke. "Well, then... at the root, its not such a noble cause at all. The same can be said of almost every hero ever known, Claude. Remember that. Those who go out seeking glory and fame always fail. They have no motivation in the core, in their heart. I couldn't get this far without my motivation, even if the reminder is permanent on my back, my body. Its a mark, but the physical pain is gone. Certainly, if I hadn't been weak, they might be alive-"

"That's not necessarily true!" Claude snapped suddenly. "Why do you blame yourself? How could you have known it would happen? I didn't know I was coming to Expel, so how could my have knowing, or understood what the device did beforehand have changed anything? I probably still would have come here because I was foolish enough to go against my father's words because I was trying to prove myself. If you had been strong.... things [i]may[/i] have been much different." He fell silent, his sudden irritation spent. He looked away.

Dias leaned against the wall, and folded his arms across his chest. Minutes seemed to pass before he spoke as Claude pondered whether to apologize. "You're right, on one level. They had fair numbers. Besides, I never had a true want to learn the art of swords until after that day. I actually had wanted to pursue the arts. Sketching and such."

"Arts?" Claude said, clambering onto the wall and swinging his legs over to sit on it. "You?"

"Hard to believe, I know, but... really, Claude. My sister used to love my watercolors and sketches. And Rena adored them as well," he said, gazing across the expanse. "Its amazing how one event can change your whole life, perspective, and outlook..." He looked down at the ground. "I still draw from time to time though."

"Amazing you could find the time, but being alone..." Claude realized he often had found things to do in his spare time aboard the Calnus when there hadn't been anything to do, and when his mother had run off on emergencies when he was much younger and hadn't had any place to stay while his father was off commanding. He wrote a lot - poems, short stories, tales of young heroes who would save the world, sci-fi action... things that caught his fancy. While he expressed in words, Dias expressed in image. They were so different, yet so alike. "I think we'd better get back and get some sleep. We're both going to be on the road awhile..."

"You're right," Dias said, still looking off somewhere. "I'll be there in a bit. Need to clean up after myself, you know."

"Sure," Claude replied, getting up and heading up the stairs. "By the way... thanks." Claude ran off then, leaving Dias behind to wonder what that was about.