Woo, long time since the last update. I'm sorry!
Many thanks to the people who have reviewed. I hope you're still reading this. ^_^;;
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It was sunny again, or rather, it was sunny for the first time. For the first time since before, there was natural light. Burning, streaming, warm, and so, so bright: an environmental aspect that had been nearly forgotten, in The Room. Bars of the stuff protruded from between the open, glassless windows of the practice yard, illuminating the large room. It was filled with racks of weapons, marked-off sparring grounds, and a few benches. Thirty small boys stood in a clump near the main doors, curiously examining their surroundings.
Dilandau stared at them. None had seen him or the Sorcerer yet, and unaware of their superior, they seemed careless and vulnerable. Some of them were talking amongst themselves, and Dilandau wondered what that would be like.
Now moving forward, the Sorcerer guided Dilandau to the group. As they moved, the boys finally noticed their presence.
To Dilandau's shock they did not seem to recognize the Sorcerer. Certainly they seemed nervous around him, but it was what they would show around any adult in an unfamiliar situation. They don't know...Am I the only one?
"Boys." It was said to get their attention, and it worked. All became quiet under that imposing tone. "This is Dilandau. He will be training as one of you."
After a silence, a few of the children blinked. Was that all?
With that, the cloaked man left. Dilandau suddenly felt giddy. No adults! He could do whatever he wanted.
"You," he directed at a nearby, placid-looking boy, "who are you guys and why are you here?"
The other boy looked confused. "We're going to be melef pilots. This is melef school. Don't you know?"
Dilandau glared at the boy as he digested this. Well, the old man had said that he'd begin training soon. He supposed that that's what this was. Melefs? He wondered what those were, but he refrained from asking, having already admitted a lack of knowledge.
After a moment or two, the boys decided to get on with their training. Four of them picked up staves from a nearby rack and started to go at each other with them. Laughter, pre-pubescent battle cries, and loud clacks of wood on wood filled the room.
Dilandau watched them for a few seconds, and decided that he could do better. Picking up a staff of his own, he circled around the group of fighting boys. They continued to spar in pairs, oblivious to the rest of the room.
Dilandau smiled. This was too easy.
Quick as his seven-year-old muscles would carry him, he struck out at the nearest boy's feet and tripped him. Crying out in surprise, the boy looked around, only to have his staff knocked out of his grip. Moving on, Dilandau toppled the other three boys in the same manner, though he only disarmed one other.
"That's not fair!" screamed the first boy.
The other kids were watching now.
Dilandau smiled again. "What's ever fair? You were careless, and I took advantage of it."
Hearing this, the first, disarmed boy rushed at Dilandau in a rage. Inexperienced with the staff, Dilandau held it in front of him as a barrier. The other boy grabbed for Dilandau's arms and head while trying to kick his legs out from under him. Fighting in earnest now, Dilandau snarled, twisted the staff, and sent the other boy tumbling to the ground. Once there, Dilandau kicked the boy soundly in the kidneys and stomach, and then swung the end of the staff hard into the boy's skull.
Everything in the room stopped. The boy on the floor wasn't moving, and Dilandau stood breathing heavily, facing all the other boys, who stared at him.
I beat him and I could beat any one of you, too.
The boys who hadn't gotten creamed by their new classmate drew themselves into a tight knot. Those who had been sparring and were staying as still as possible, so as not to attract attention. Dilandau felt he should say something, though he couldn't think that any words would be as effective as what he had just did.
The boy on the floor still wasn't moving, and the ruby-eyed boy looked down in detached curiosity. A bit of blood was oozing onto the floor from the boy's temple. Dilandau couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.
"What's going on in here?"
Everyone jumped at the commanding voice except Dilandau. He merely looked up.
The boys looked fearfully between Dilandau and the melef school's commander, trying to decide which one would be worse to get on the wrong side of. A few of them respected authority, and pointed towards the violent, pale one. One of them spoke up.
"Some of us were sparring, and he attacked them while they weren't looking."
The commander looked at the boy on the floor and then at Dilandau, who felt that he somehow unsettled the man.
Heh. Even the adults are afraid of me.
"There will be no more fights against unarmed opponents, and no more fighting outside of this room at all. Understood?"
Dilandau looked steadily back at the teacher.
"Only if those fools don't piss me off anymore."
The teacher frowned, but apparently didn't feel like pressing the issue. After he had sent the fallen boy off to the medic, he turned around and started teaching all of the boys how to really fight. Nobody wanted to be Dilandau's partner, but none of them dared refuse. In addition to their fear of Dilandau, they likewise feared the commander. He was a hard master, and apparently the other boys knew him. Dilandau had never met him before, and could hardly fear someone who was afraid of an albino seven-year-old. The only one Dilandau feared was the Sorcerer.
Throughout the practice, Dilandau marveled at the sunlight. When he was returned to the depths of the building, he remembered its warmth and brightness. It burned so beautifully.
***
She woke up in a terrified rush of will to escape a formless evil. No sound, no words, no images, but she could still feel its presence. Jumping out of bed, she strode to the window and threw open the curtains.
Sunlight blinded her and threw the room into morning. When she could open her eyes, they were still watering, but everything looked so much more alive in the sunlight.
I'm alive.
And I'm not there anymore.
She thought this with a desperate relief. Heart pounding, she only stopped for shoes before she ran out into the hallway and out of the house.
Celena set out running east across one of the fields of the Schezar estate. It was built in a valley that ran east-west, the house and several fields settled in a hilly area between the sharp crags of the mountains. She ran away from the house, downhill to where she jumped across a small gully, past trees and through a thicket, and eventually met the road leading away to the city. Her lungs were starting to give out by that time, and she slowed to a walk when she turned southward towards the fence between the house grounds and the pastures. Being summer, it hadn't rained in a while so the road was dusty, and the sky only carried a few clouds. The early morning light streaming into valley tinged things gold and pink, and cast long shadows. To the north and south, Celena could see sharp mountain peaks. The Asturian Peaks were not the highest mountains in Gaea, but they, along with the coastline, were famed for their beauty.
Celena agreed. When she got to the fence, she climbed up and sat on it and gazed out in awe across the earth. Green and brown grasses stretched out before her, with clover flowers occasionally dotting the landscape. On the far side of the pastures, steep foothills, the walls of the valley, rose up. Large, grayish-brown boulders collected in this area, and the incline exposed patches of bare dirt. The rocks, she thought, made the vegetation more interesting.
Celena breathed it in.
Beautiful. Beautiful and open and light.
By the time she had gotten to the fence, the sun was a little higher, and the pink tinges were gone. The morning breeze blew the girl's hair all around her face, but she was too preoccupied with basking in Gaea to be annoyed at that for the moment. After a few minutes passed she reached behind her head to plait the unruly mass. Her inexperienced fingers left bits of hair sticking out in every direction, and the braid itself curled towards her left shoulder rather than being centered, but it got the majority of her hair out of her face, so she was satisfied. She didn't have any of her ribbons, so she let her curls and unbrushed tangles hold the braid together instead.
After she had looked in every direction several times, Celena turned her attention back to the dream.
That was the most real thing I've ever seen while I wasn't awake.
She knew it had to be one of Dilandau's memories, and the entire experience unsettled her deeply. A murderer being in her head was frightening enough. Being inside his head, even for a little while, meant a variety of things that Celena didn't want to deal with.
I felt what he felt. Fear, anger, triumph…
Hate.
She could still feel the staff in her hands, still see the boy's face as hard wood connected with his unprotected body.
I think he killed him. She felt his detached curiosity, his pleasure at completely dominating his opponent. That really frightened her. Gods, he was just a child, and he killed that kid in a fit of…boredom…and he enjoyed it. Is that who I was for eight years?
She looked out onto the fields, briefly focusing on the landscape.
Sunlight.
He loved the sunlight. Everything else about his life was dark…I don't know exactly what went on in The Room, but I don't think it was very nice.
Sorcerers…
A chill went down her spine. She still had no facts, but the dream-memory had shown her that Dilandau's feelings towards the men in black were full of fear and despair.
I don't like this! Sorcerers, terrible things that I didn't want to know about, child murder. It's horrible, I can't believe that they would be that heartless to just let them behave like animals. I can't believe that they could do something that would make one child that hateful.
But they did.
He wasn't entirely hateful, I suppose. I can't hate someone who I've looked through the eyes of. His actions, surely. But he was still human.
Is still human?
She looked over the hills, their shadows overlapping one another. She loved the way the light made things look.
I guess we can agree on that, at least.
Celena sighed, and hung her head down, suddenly weary. This morning, things had gotten more complicated.
Gods, what's happening to me?Swinging her legs over the fence, she hopped down and started the walk back to the house. If Allen was up, he'd be worried.
When she got back to the manor house, she found her brother poised in front of her door about to knock.
He smiled. "Well, you beat me to it."
She chuckled a little in response. "I felt like a bit of air before breakfast."
He gestured disdainfully at her state of undress. "And didn't feel the need to get dressed? Really, you'll catch a cold."
She shrugged. "I kind of forgot to."
Allen frowned. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Yes…well…I had a dream…" She began quietly and then trailed off. Her brother's stare made her feel guilty. "I-I'm going to get dressed now."
He put up no resistance as she slipped past him into her room. Leaning against the closed door, she sighed.
"Celena, we'll talk about this at breakfast, alright?"
"Yes, Allen."
"Good. I'll see you in a few minutes."
Since she had left, the sunlight had changed in the room. It was no longer shining full-force through the open window, but still illuminated the room well.
She crossed to the window and pulled the curtains slightly more closed before opening her wardrobe and selecting a dress. She chose the most uncomfortable one, the one that was most proper. Proper means sane, right?
She unbraided and brushed out her hair, and tied it back with ribbons. Gazing at her reflection, she sighed again.
I hope Allen can help. I'm sorry he has a lunatic for a sister.
When she sat down in the dining room, Allen was already there and drinking tea. When the cook saw her arrive, she brought out the food. It was biscuits and jam, fried fish, and a squash Celena recognized from the garden. Modest fare, but prepared well.
She poured herself some tea.
…
"Celena?" Allen waited for her to look up. "What sort of dream was it?"
She looked back down at her plate. "It…wasn't very clear," she said, frowning. "It was really just a feeling, of something dark and horrible trying to overtake me."
Allen looked worried. "Are you sure it wasn't real? He could be trying to control you again, now that he's had a chance to rest."
"I…no…maybe…" She swallowed. "I mean, it's possible…he was trying to do something, but I don't think it was about taking control of me…he was more running from something…"
"Why do you think that?"
"Well…before, with Van…the main emotion was rage, or hate. This time, it was fear." She looked her brother straight in the eye. "And I woke up me, after all."
"Hn. True." He bowed his head slightly over clasped hands, frowning into space.
Celena continued eating. She concentrated fiercely on her plate, feeling bad in general about the whole situation and guilty because she hadn't told Allen what had really bothered her.
In her dream, she had been Dilandau. It's silly of me. I was more Dilandau in Fanelia…Allen knows that we're connected…
Even so, she couldn't help but feel that the dream was far more intimate than was right.