Author's Note: Aren't you tired of these things? This is flashback of Rose, about when Michael was there. The present tense is the present, with her thinking, and the past tense is (obviously) the past, of what happened. But I'm so used to writing in the present tense, so excuse me if the grammar is incorrect. I didn't really understand the entire thing with Rose and Michael, so I just had to write down something to help clarify it for myself. Also to prove that maybe it wasn't only Zieg's death that changed Rose, but also Michael's. By the way, this takes place way before Dart or Albert or Lloyd, so you won't see them here.
Disclaimer: Rose and Michael belong to Squaresoft. The only things that are mine are Ceplao, Tratmick, Darius, Kristoff, and Kata.
- is Rose's thinking
Please ignore the little o that show up in the middle. doesn't allow line breaks so something has to go there to separate.
Chapter One: Michael
He was the only thing that she had left. The only piece of her past that she could hold on to, to convince her she was real. The last shred of her sanity, to keep her from impaling herself on her sword. Not that anyone would care. No one still alive, that is.
Michael, her Black Burst Dragon, her partner, her protector, her savior. He had been the one to drag her out of the palace while she sobbed and screamed as Zieg disappeared into stone. Michael was her guardian, taking care of her, but what's more, he was her friend.
With the strength of a Dragon, the love of a friend, the compassion of a partner, the protection of family, and the honor of a warrior, he was the best companion any person could ask for. Or at least, a person going through the very dreariest times of her life, after all her friends died and her soulmate turned to stone. Also, having to transform into a shapeless Black Monster every 108 years to go and kill people for some stupid prophecy that was tossed onto her head. Michael was there for her.
And that was all in the past.
She flips onto her stomach, turning her face away from the cloudless sky, burying her head in the flowers of the meadow. She needs something, anything, some sense that will take her away.
She lifts her head and cups a particularly red flower against her palm. A rose, her namesake. Much like her. Soft petals, soft skin. Slender stem, slender body. Beautiful flower, beautiful Dragoon-Human. Much like her. But something is wrong.
She draws her sword from its scabbard and scrapes the edge along the palm of her hand, spilling black blood over the flower.
There. Now the rose looks like her.
She tries to smile, fail. What was smiling like?
Perhaps before, she would have smiled. Now she cannot.
She sits near the hidden cove by the Midlake near Bale, where only people with wings can go. No one is here, no one but herself. Her sensitive ears can pick up on the sound of celebration far away. In Bale, the capital of Serdio. She had heard that the people were celebrating the birth of a new prince or something like that. A firework goes off, and she closes her eyes, shutting out anything she doesn't want. But she cannot do the same for the pain.
Rose buries her head in her arms and reminisces about what happened.
o
The smoke lingered in her clothes even though she was miles away from the village of Tratmick.
She turned around, narrowing her eyes so that she could see the column of smoke that emitted from the village. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the burnt bodies and hear the howls of pain.
She felt something push at her right shoulder, and she turned around to face him. "Michael." She leaned against his hawk-like body for comfort. "We did it again."
The Dragon was sleek and dark, with widespread wings, so that he reminded her of some black eagle diving down at its prey with the speed of a Wingly and the force of a Giganto. The protective ribs enclosing its heart rustled slightly. Their connection allowed them to talk at times, but it took great energy on both parts, and she was just too tired to summon up that power.
And suddenly he was gone, leaving her to stumble and regain her balance. At first she was miffed, until she heard the clattering of wagon wheels against the rocky terrain. Michael had flown over one of the mountains protecting the valley she was traveling in, to hide from Human eyes. He mustn't have had enough time to hide above the clouds.
The wagon wheels sound grew louder until it was parked directly in front of her. The driver was an old man with sweat and grease on his face, tightly gripping the reins of a large dera, one of those ugly hamster-chicken-mule-bull-looking things that were used for pulling wagons and plowing fields. The wagon was filled to the top with water and food, all wrapped up. Her guess was that the man was a merchant on his way to town.
"Hey, kid, did you come from that village over there?" He pointed down the valley toward Tratmick.
"Yes." She replied flatly.
"What's going on there? I'm supposed to bring these supplies there, but when I sent my messenger bird to verify, it came back covered in ash and still holding the message! You know what's going on?"
She stared at him coldly, fixing him with the same gray gaze that she gave everyone, like smoke from a fresh fire. There would be no risk telling him. If he showed signs of understanding, then she would simply have to kill him. She had no scruples about that.
"My name's Torrin. Be a good girl and tell me, and I'll give you ten Gold." He offered.
She tossed her head back, raven hair flying over her shoulder. "Tratmick has been completely destroyed."
Well, he didn't expect that. Torrin sat perfectly still in his seat, blinking. "Destroyed?" he echoed hollowly.
"Destroyed." Rose repeated. "You know, gone."
Torrin snorted. "My mistake to trust a little girl on something so important as this run. Outta the way." For someone with his age, he sure had a nasty attitude.
She moved, ducking along the side of the wagon. She could hear Torrin snapping the whip again, and the wagon started to roll along again. She dipped her hand into the back, between the flaps of the canvas. As an expert thief, her fingers snagged food packets and water flasks faster than anyone else could, and without the merchant knowing as he drove away.
After a period of a few seconds, when the wagon was gone, Michael soared above and then landed next to her. He was not a large Dragon, not as large as Feyrbrand or the Golden Dragon, but he was among the most powerful and the best. Only her height and a bit over three times her length, Michael had a powerful attack that could destroy virtually anything.
As his master, she could draw on that power. That was how she transformed into the Black Monster and destroyed Tratmick.
She laid the flat of her palm against his face. "Come on, Michael, let's go."
o
Michael hid in the swamplands while she traveled further to Bale. She was a grown woman, not at all like the little girl that Torrin called me. She was over ten thousand years old and carried with her the wisdom of the ages and the pain of countless generations. She knew how to defend herself.
She headed for the tavern immediately, and took a seat at the bar. It was safer here, than in some little dark shadow where she could be cornered. The seat next to her was empty, which was good. It gave her more space to draw her sword if that needed be.
"What do you want?" The bartender asked her.
"I don't care. Your heaviest drink." She answered. Her body automatically neutralized any poison that she consumed anyway. She felt tired, so tired… She always did right after killing the Moon Child.
"Did you see that celebration?" One Serdian chattered to another. "It was spectacular!"
"All for one child…good grief, I'm telling you, this kid better be the best king that Serdio ever had, with all the money that he drained out of the treasury."
Something clicked in her mind, and a strange emotion like fear welled up in her throat. She nearly choked on her drink.
- The Serdian prince-child was born around the same time as the Moon Child. Could it be possible that I was wrong? What if I had gotten the wrong information? -
No, she had done her research very carefully on this particular mission. The Moon Child this time had been difficult to track down, but she had done it.
"Oh gods!" A new person burst into the tavern. "Tratmick has been destroyed!"
The tavern was in chaos, hundreds of questions being tossed around. "Destroyed? How? What happened? Is everyone okay?"
"The Black Monster killed everyone and burned the village! It's completely destroyed!"
"The Black Monster." A fierce woman with her hair tied up scowled from a corner of the room. "That bastard. Every time the Moon That Never Sets glares red, the Black Monster comes and destroys the town that harbors the Moon Child. The Black Monster deserves to burn in hell!"
-Fools. If only you knew what I was really trying to do for you people-
Vaguely, she felt someone take the seat next to her but didn't bother to turn around and see who it was. It would just be another nondescript face that would die eventually anyway. What was the point of making friends when they were always torn away from you?
- Damia…I wish you were here now -
Downing the rest of her drink, Rose left half a handful of Gold on the bar and left the tavern.
o
"Michael?" She called as she wandered through the swamplands. "Michael!"
He was oddly hiding from her today. What was the matter? Usually he couldn't wait to be with her again, like a frisking puppy welcoming a mistress who had been gone for the entire day. A very large flying puppy with deadly black energy, but frisking nevertheless. Why was he hiding from her? Was it a game?
"Michael?"
She could always use the Dragoon Spirit to find him, or stretch out with her mind. But she was fatigued and all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn't want to call on the little energy needed to locate her Dragon companion. She barely had enough energy to keep trudging through the forest like this. After becoming the Black Monster, her strength was drained away significantly for the next two days. That was part of the reason that Michael stayed with her: to protect her. The other reason was that he was just too honorable to desert her.
"Michael? Come out here. No one's around." She called again. "Michael?"
She was walking under one of those moss-like trees when it decided to lighten the load it was carrying and dumped a heavy amount of slime onto her head as she walked by.
She yelped indignantly, wiping it away from her eyes. But nothing could get the gook out of her fine raven hair unless she had clean water, which she did not at the time.
- This has been a bad day…a very BAD day! -
With the slime squelching underneath her boots and dripping down her face, Rose continued her little trek through the marshlands. Where was the Dragon? Did something happen to him? The new worry flickered through her mind.
This time when a Myconido rushed by and knocked her heavily onto her backside before it ran away, Rose didn't say anything. Didn't scream, didn't yell. She simply sat there, clenching and unclenching her hand on her sword. A nearby Crocodile cowered behind the log it was sitting on, as if wondering what this powerful being was going to do.
Rose leapt to her feet and tossed her sword. The blade buried itself deeply into the trunk of a far-off tree. The Crocodile vanished in fear at the nearly visible anger of the Darkness Dragoon. "Michael!" She yelled.
When there was still no reply, she stalked over to where her sword was embedded in the tree trunk. She braced one long leg against the bark and yanked out her sword. It had been relatively clean, but now it was unsheathed and in her hand, which was still dripping with slime. What was worse, the slime was starting to dry, becoming a sticky shell all over her, like a snake's skin.
- I swear, when I find him… -
Rose stiffened immediately. That flash of knowledge that just ran through her mind… It was Michael, and it was something else.
"Michael?" her voice was soothing now.
She shoved a draping of long tree leaves out of her face and ducked into a new section of the swamplands, secluded and dismal.
Michael was there, in full battle mode, with the ribs surrounding the black laser twitching in anxiety for a fight. Facing him was a large creature, like an overgrown cricket. Way overgrown. It was much bigger than Michael was. Tinted a yellow-green color, the new creature was rumbling something.
"Feyrbrand!" Rose cried, overjoyed, all traces of her weariness gone.
The yellow-green Dragon lifted its head to look at her. It tilted its head in question and the agile woman raced across the dark clearing to embrace it. Well, one of its front legs anyway. She just barely came up to its thigh.
The Dragon made a sort of cooing noise, nudging her affectionately with its muzzle. Rose let go of it and stepped back, next to Michael. "Michael, what happened? I was calling forever and you didn't appear. When did you find Feyrbrand and why didn't you call me?"
She turned her attention back to the Jade Dragon. "Feyrbrand, why are you here?"
Because I've no place else to go, it replied quietly. The swampland suits me well. I blend in with the moss and I've found a large underground cave that I will use as my nest. There is sufficient food to keep me alive here until I find a new master
"Are you sure you'll be all right here?"
Quite sure.
"Be careful. Take good care of yourself." Rose went forward to hug it again. "I know that Syuveil would turn over in his grave if he knew I didn't stop you from dying in the marshlands."
Goodbye. We will see each other again, Human-Dragoon.
Rose straddled on her own Dark Dragon's back, waving goodbye to the Jade Dragon. Michael didn't wait for her command, but lifted up, out of the clearing and into the skies. Evening was approaching; the sun was starting to dip below the horizon.
"What were you two doing when I first came upon you? What happened between you two?" She asked, raising her voice above the wind that rustled her sticky hair. "When I arrived, you two looked like you were about to fight? Were you arguing about something?"
It is nothing, Michael replied.
"Michael, as a Dragoon, I cannot have the Dragons fighting. What was it?"
It is none of your concern. It is over now. We resolved it. Michael soared higher and then suddenly plunged. It was a move that she had loved since they first bonded, the sheer delight as they plummeted, but knowing that she would never hit the ground, and it automatically washed away any doubts in her mind as she giggled.
It was as if she were two different people. One was Rose-the-hidden-Black-Monster, cold and aloof from Humans, powerful and nasty. The other was simply Rose the woman, lighthearted and laughing, a Human, only around Dragons. Two different people, with entirely different personalities.
Michael swooped to a stop, strong jet-like wings fluttering as they landed in the hidden cove by the Midlake, their favorite place because it was peaceful and quiet. Rose dismounted and headed toward the lake.
I will guard you.
Although it was a hidden cove, occasionally a human would stumble upon it. So Michael had to protect Rose while she was bathing. Usually Michael hated to be seen mortal Humans because of the fuss it made. But the world knew there were Dragons in existence—although there were only three left—and it was not impossible to meet one, just highly unlikely.
Rose stripped off her cloth armor and scrubbed it clean before washing the offending slime out of her hair and face. After the sun and wind dried her skin, she donned her armor again, to find Michael staring at her. She tilted her head as she strapped her sword belt low on her hips. "What?"
Humans and Dragons, or all species, look very different from us Dragons. But the emotions are the same. The master of my friend the Red-Eyed Dragon loved you. You still love him as well; it is obvious by the fluidness of your movements, like a female who has accepted great suffering.
Rose curled up under his torso, using his birdlike body to shield herself from the cold. "I'm tired, Michael. Will you protect me?"
Always. It seemed as though he never slept.
o
She awoke to the sound of rattling scales and the sudden coldness that rushed along her skin. "Michael?" She called. - Is he all right? –
She stumbled to her feet, grabbing her sword.
The energy blast nearly threw her off her feet. She raced toward the source, out of the Midlake and toward Bale.
A shadow crosses through the starlit night, so that she felt it more than saw it. She saw a pack of Forest Runners—odd, they didn't usually appear here—scattering in fear of something, and automatically she looked up at Michael.
The ribs around his heart fluttered and opened up, spreading wide to show a pulsating black organ, flooded with dark energy.
Rose's eyes widened as she realized what he was going to do. "Michael, no! Don't!"
Her words were lost in the roar of the wind, so she summoned up all her energy and sent it in thoughts. Michael either didn't hear it or ignored it, because the black energy fired once, twice, striking the pack of colorful birds. She watched, paralyzed, as most of them seemed to simply disappear into thin air, vaporized.
"Michael!" She screamed again, running to follow him.
He looped around and headed for the birds again, as they ran on ostrich-like legs. Rose braced her legs against the force of the wind that rose with him.
He fired the dark laser again, and this time it vaporized all the Forest Runners. Rose's mind swamped with their pain and death throes. The backlash literally swept her off her feet, knocking her into the air and landing her heavily against a boulder.
She let out a cry of pain as she danced in and out of consciousness. There was a sound of wings and then Michael was looming over her. Master?
Immediately she surged to her feet, ignoring the headache. "Why did you do that? You nearly hit me with your laser!"
There was a different emotion in his mind, something like confusion and regret and doubt. They were too close to the Midlake where you rested.
"That's a lie. It's nearly a mile from here to the Midlake. They were on a course toward the prairie. I would not have been disturbed." Rose reached out and grabbed Michael on both sides of his neck, forcing the connection.
His mind was a painting of black pictures, too dark to discern anything clearly. It was just beginning to clear up, but she had seen all she needed. He had just suffered a bout of bloodlust.
"Oh, Michael…" Rose sat down on the boulder, slowly. "I thought you got over that. I thought that we beat it together."
The bloodlust can only be suppressed, not eliminated. I will suppress it again for you, Master. It will not happen again. Michael's thoughts felt so forlorn that her reproaching words stopped in her throat and got no further. I am sorry.
She put her arms around his neck gently. "It's all right. Just don't let it happen again, okay?"
It will not. he promised her and she could sense his resolute mind.
"Come. Let's go back to the Midlake."
Walking beside him, Rose couldn't help but wonder. Shielding her thoughts so that he couldn't sense them, she began to think. – Why did Michael go through bloodlust like that again? Why would he drop his honor for a few seconds to bask in the glory of victory? Why would killing Forest Runners with the black laser count as a victory? Why did the bloodlust come back, when we trained so hard to get it out of him? He and the Violet Dragon were always the two Dragons that loved fighting the most. Michael, you promised me it wouldn't happen again, but when the bloodlust flares up, all reason disappears. Will you keep your promise?
- I'm probably just being paranoid. I trust Michael. I don't need to worry. -
And yet there was something that still nagged in her.