"You're coming with me," Felix said bluntly, turning on his heel with his scarf lightly wavering behind him. Divinity's eyes narrowed.
"Why?" she wondered, her voice level. Felix stopped and looked at her.
"We don't kill people. As much as they may deserve it, it's against whatever scrap of humanity we can still salvage," he replied, his voice sharp and cold. "From now on, you listen to us. Someone will accompany you to every battle you participate in and you will not kill any whom you engage. You will incapacitate them, only." If Divinity disagreed with this strict manner of dealing with criminals, it was certainly not evident in her behaviour. She simply nodded curtly and hovered along behind him, her wings moving softly and stirring the air just such that the bodies of the dead men shook a little as she passed. Jenna shuddered and clenched her teeth, watching the eerie dance of the dead. She grabbed onto Garet's arm for support as she fought back waves of nausea within herself. He put a reassuring hand on her arm, but in truth, he was just as shaken as she was.
Sheba and Ivan exchanged looks darkly. What they had just played witness to was nothing more or less than cruel and savage. Guilty or not, a few thefts should not have been worth death. To expect perfection from someone who is merely human is to expect fish to fly among the mighty hawks and eagles. An impossibility, and a disappointment for those foolish enough to hope.
I'm worried, Ivan thought wearily. Sheba's mind joined with his, and the two shared a private conversation through Mind Read, far from the prying ears of the others.
I know, she replied. Divinity can help... maybe... but she's too-
She's entirely Justice. Ivan thought, his mind unable to wait for Sheba to find the right words. She is an Avatar of Justice, a being of pure and unspoiled righteousness. She can't understand that it isn't humanly possible to exist without committing wrong.
Exactly,Sheba replied, her mind reeling with possibilities of the future. One day, she may come for us.
I... I don't know. Maybe. I don't think so, Ivan said slowly and shakily. Sheba's voice answered unsurely.
Why not? What makes us so special?
Because... I mean, we saved the world, didn't we? The whole world, that's got to be worth something,he said, sounding stronger and more confident.
Why should that matter, though? If all she cares about is what bad things you've done in your past, then whatever you did that was good wouldn't matter. Sheba wrapped her arms around herself, holding herself tight for warmth and to deny the ever growing shivers that were starting to claim her. Ivan walked closer to her, putting an arm around her for support.
We did summon her, too, you realize, he added hopefully.She wouldn't be very likely to bite the hand that feeds her, would she? Sheba didn't answer, but took a long pause to think inwardly. After a few more steps, she raised her hand and placed it in Ivan's, gripping it tightly.
I hope you're right...
- - - - -
Isaac's mind raced, not forward, as his body must always travel through miserable time, but backwards.
"Of all the miserable, bloody weeks they had to visit," Isaac moaned softly. "Of all the Venus-damned stupid mistakes for me to make!" Mia looked at him with forlorn eyes, misty and grievous.
"They're here already? Cripes, run for it!" Briggs cried, moving as quickly as possible down the wearing streets of New Vale. A group of sword-bearing thieves were all behind him, chasing him and his precious four-year old son Eoleo down. Briggs' pace was hindered because he was struggling to get a firm grip on the struggling and panic-stricken Eoleo, who thrashed in his arms, finally breaking free and falling to the ground.
The rushing of the river nearby was not enough of a noise to drown out Isaac's thoughts. Even with Mia, his frazzled but dedicated and true love beside him, holding onto him to give and draw support, his mind was clocked in overdrive, staring deeply at that simple grave, his heart overwhelmed. The Golden Sun nearby gave off just enough light that he could see it and read the inscription on it, simple, touching and saddening as it was.
'Eoleo Briggs
Lived 4 years'
"Eoleo!" Briggs cried as his son broke free of his desperate grasp. "Get back here this instant!" The four year-old hit the ground softly, having fallen from a short height, and stumbled to his feet, tears welling in his eyes from fear. Surely these bad men wouldn't hurt him? He didn't understand! He started to run, trying to distance himself and those evil men, but they closed fast! Briggs was unarmed, but Isaac was nearby. Briggs called to him, and Isaac bounded over as quickly as possible with the Sol Blade unsheathed, ready to fight.
"It wasn't your fault," Mia said dejectedly. "It just wasn't. You can't blame yourself." Isaac kneeled down to the tombstone, his tired, jaded blue eyes scanning it, and his hand running over the words he himself chiseled in it one night when he was there alone.
'I'm sorry.
When I, too, join you in death one day, forgive me.'
Sidestepping around Briggs and Eoleo (the little one having just retreated to his kneeling father's safe arms), Isaac slashed at one of the villains, who simply rose his own sword defensively, a perfect parry in execution. Isaac, not one to be deterred, used the momentum of the parry to swing his own sword around again with increased power. The man was more than able to use a sword, so he was able to protect himself from that, as well. What happened next was too quick for anyone to see properly, let alone prevent.
The parry completed, the thief swung back at Isaac with immense might, his sword pushing Isaac back a meter, just beyond where Briggs was rising with Eoleo clutched against his chest. With that extra space granted from the force of the enemy's attack, Isaac decided to lunge at him with a stabbing motion, hoping he would find that more difficult to defend against with a sword. Unfortunately, the thief didn't defend himself with his sword.
Predicting the next attack perfectly, the thief stretched a long arm out, grabbing hold of poor Eoleo and ripping him viciously from his father's arms, too quickly for Isaac to realize. His Sol Blade thrust forward at remarkable speed, but the thief matched him move for move, dragging the helpless child before him as though a shield deflecting an arrow. Isaac's Sol Blade tore through the young boy's unseasoned chest, piercing sinew and organ alike, rendering the fear-struck child fatally wounded. Isaac's eyes widened in fear and realization as he looked at Eoleo's young shaking face, his teary, glassy eyes closing and his mouth wordlessly trying to speak one final time. It was not to be.
The child was forever silenced.
Mia knelt beside Isaac, wrapping her arms around him from behind and resting her head on his shoulder, a single tear leaking from her cerulean eyes. "There wasn't anything you could have done," she whispered softly. "It was an accident." Isaac shook his head, eyes closed and body tense.
"It was preventable. I was careless and stupid," he argued stubbornly, dejected. His voice was rough and bitter, and tainted with despair. He slammed a fist into the dirt, his frustration showing vividly. Mia shook her head and buried it into his shoulder even more. She decided to let him sit, thinking, for a few minutes.
The minutes felt like hours, which in and of themselves felt like seasons unfolding one after the other; changes occurred in them, and yet nothing really changed overall. Isaac would stare at the grave, then lower his head and shudder unhappily. Whenever he seemed truly distressed, Mia would squeeze him a little harder, reassuringly, and he would gather enough strength to look at the tombstone again. Finally, he spoke; softly and not sounding like himself, but he spoke.
"Let's go home," he said simply. Mia squeezed him one more time, then stood and kissed him once he rose. The pair walked hand-in-hand towards Isaac's house. With the exception of Isaac and Mia, it was now devoid of a regular living family as it once had been because of the rampant thefts and attacks that drove most residents away from New Vale, looking for a newer, safer life. That group of people included Isaac's own parents. Whatever became of them was a mystery that not even he knew the answer to. The house was a place of happiness and torment for Isaac; of happiness on account of that it is the only place in which he and Mia could be alone together, where they might shut out the outside world. Though it is also a place of torment, in that it was a reminder of how happy they used to be together, living a happy, peaceful life, not knowing true hardship or distress.
Used to be.
- - - - -
"Here," Picard said, pointing lazily (or perhaps not lazily, just without energy at all) toward the Valean inn. Divinity tilted her head slightly in starting at it.
"Here?" she wondered, curiously.
"Here," Ivan agreed tiredly. "It's late. We've been fighting all night and are extremely fatigued. We need to rest, desperately," he said, Sheba meanwhile noting the large bags under his eyes. "We've already fought through the major rush of the night, so it should be quiet from here on out." Divinity approached the door, but rather than soil her hand with the little-used doorknob, she channeled an aura of Psynergy to tear the door from its hinges and open it for her. The door collapsed inside, and Felix and Garet led her in. Sheba and Jenna took the rear.
"Wait here until tomorrow morning," Felix instructed, in full leader-mode, now. "We'll come back for you and then start working again." Divinity narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips slightly, but said nothing more, resigned to hovering cross-legged in the air with her arms folded over her chest and wings flapping ever so slightly to keep her aloft. The six Adepts walked out of the inn slowly and started walking towards the houses in the northern end of the city. Their feet felt strangely like lead, but they moved still.
"I don't trust her," Jenna said at length. "She's too...evil, you know?" Garet frowned.
"How can she be evil?" he wondered. "She's an archangel. She's the embodiment of Justice and whatnot, isn't she?" Ivan nodded, but it was Sheba that replied.
"She may be divine and Justice itself, but her brand of justice and ours are significantly different," she muttered grimly. "Would you kill someone over one theft?" Garet nodded awkwardly.
"No, but... I dunno," he said, his voice reflecting a debate of conscience raging in his mind. "She's... divine, though. Doesn't that make her right?"
"Are you going to think she's right when she's killing you?" Picard asked quietly. This caused everyone to stop walking nearly simultaneously, minds working. You could have almost heard the gears turning in their heads. "Eventually, once she realizes that we've all been guilty of something at one time or another, she'll come for us."
"We haven't done anything, though... have we?" Ivan wondered aloud. Felix piped up.
"Haven't we?" he posed. "You killed Saturos and Menardi. We all killed Karst and Agatio. Isaac killed Eo-"
"Don't you dare," Jenna threatened, pointing at his chest with a long finger, on the tips of her toes for height and leaning into him, "blame him for that." Felix didn't back down.
"I'm not saying it was on purpose, but it was his sword." The torment of the time pitted brother against sister again, for the fourth time this week, the two who once seemed inseparable now at each other's throats. And it was only Monday.
The group settled back and stared off at random vectors, some to the shining night sky, others to the dimly-lit ground, but they all were thinking the same things.
"Oh, Mars," Jenna whimpered. Picard nodded solemnly.
"She's going to kill us..."