Voice of the Plains
Unexpected
Next Morning
The troop marched on, having decided last night that they were to press onto Nabata Desert. Priscilla had informed Rai of the attackers' plans; the tactician assumed their enemies' mission was to fetch an artifact. After all, Nabata was a complete wasteland, save for several valuable artifacts concealed here and there. So she decided to lead them into the desert, in hopes of reuniting with Lord Pent and Lady Louise—they occupied late Archsage Athos's dwelling now—to ask the couple about what it could possibly be.
Deadly silence loomed over them all. Even cheerful Nino stayed grim and unspoken, only looking up every now and then at a particularly sweet call of a hidden songbird. No one, not even Eliwood, dared to venture next to Hector for the fear of his scorching wrath, especially after the events of last night.
"Oswin," Hector said in a would-be calm voice. It was plain to everyone that his cool tone and the composed expression were forced. The flickering fire added to his frightening demeanor, heightening the forbidding aura within the camp. "Please explain thoroughly why you two are here."
"Oh, it's all my fault!" offered Serra quickly, stealing a fleeting glance at her lord's twitching eyebrow. "I wanted to come, so I convinced him—"
"Serra," he snarled dangerously, never taking his eyes off the unflustered General. "I asked Oswin, not you. Now, my insubordinate vassal, speak!" For a split second, every pairs of eyes were focused on the orange-armored man, fearing for his wellbeing.
"My lord," Oswin began calmly, but he was instantly cut short by Hector's vicious fit of anger.
"You, of all the people, were the last I expected to go against your lord's direct order! Again! You have broken your knightly vows a second time, you—you—Oswin! As soon as we get back to Ostia, I will strip you of your title and position! Do you hear me?! You will regret this day for the rest of your life; I will see to it that your life ends in humiliation and—"
"My lord!" he interjected loudly, successfully stunning the furious lord into silence. In a subdued tone he went on, his reasonable voice somewhat calming the less-than-friendly atmosphere. "Yes, I will admit to that, but this time, it is different. I would have went against my oaths once again only if had I returned to Ostia upon your command."
"Different?! I don't see any—"
"My lord," Oswin went on patiently. "Do you not remember Lord Uther's command? He ordered me to stay by your side and protect you. I swore on my honor. I am not about to break that just yet."
"You okay?"
Hector snapped his head up. He looked down at the lady tactician who had a worried hand on his arm.
"Yeah," he mumbled grudgingly. "I suppose." She beamed.
"Good. By grace, Hector, you were making everyone nervous." He glanced around. Yes, the mood of the army was definitely down. Hmm. He didn't know that he had that strong an influence over them.
"I didn't know," he apologized honestly. "I apologize. I was just thinking things through." She nodded in understanding.
"Mm. You don't accept it now—or don't want to, whichever—but you'll see later. Oswin did what he thought was right. Meanwhile, don't treat him so harshly like last time, alright?" She regarded him with a penetrating look.
"Mmph," came the unenthusiastic reply. Rai smiled again. Stubborn as a mule he might be, he had a good heart. He was all right, really, just a bit threatening on the outside.
---
"Oh, look, Lord Hector's better now!" squealed Serra, pulling on Oswin's arm. She pointed at the blue-haired lord who now spoke with Eliwood and Rai, in a very civil-like manner, especially compared to last night. "Let's go talk to him!"
"Serra," said the exasperated General. "Not now. And please let go of my arm."
"But—"
Oswin gave her The Look. She immediately fell silent and shrank under his gaze, which was a great amazement to Erk, who was watching the exchange from some distance away. Someone can actually restrain her
". . .Yes, m'lord," she mumbled, and then to Erk's great horror, immediately came bouncing over to him. He tried to get away—too late. She had a firm grip on his arm.
"Hi, Erk!!! Feeling better now? I can't believe you actually fainted last night!!" she screeched into his ear. Ow.
"It's kind of hard not to," he retorted, "especially if you're there." And, as oblivious as ever, she took his insult as a compliment.
"Oh! How sweet of you! Yes, I know, I am amazingly beautiful," she said excitedly, giving her Heal staff a twirl. "My beauty should be a crime, don't you think? I mean, the way you fell down like that! At this rate, there'll be no boys left on Elibe!" He sighed. Here we go again.
"Serra," he said, trying to squirm away. "Please let go of my arm. I believe you're suffocating it."
"Okay, okay, fine, Mr. Frumpy-face," she said carelessly, but didn't let go. In fact, she clutched it even tighter, if anything. "So, Erky, did you miss me? I bet you did. Of course you did! Who wouldn't? I mean, with my beauty, who wouldn't want to be around me?" He glanced around, desperately looking for help. No such luck. The only person watching them was Matthew, and he was currently leaning against a tree, face red, laughing. At him.
Thanks, Matthew.
"Oh!!" Serra squealed abruptly, noticing the thief. "Maaaaatth. . .yooo! Matthew!! Hey, Matthew!" Erk watched him straighten up suddenly and prepare to bolt away, but as is everyone else, he was too slow for her.
"Hey. Where are you going? Come on. Over here, over here!" Really, the "over here" was completely unnecessary, seeing as how Serra tightly grasped—thank Elimine that it wasn't his; it was turning purple—Matthew's arm.
"Remember what Lord Hector said?" she squealed. "Remember?? Lord Hector said you have to stay by my side, no matter what, right? I am a sweet, helpless little cleric. . .You have to protect me!"
"Protect you?" said Matthew, apparently horror-struck at the idea of having to stay by her side constantly. "But I'm a Thief! I don't get into brawls. . ." Naturally, Serra completely disregarded him.
"That's fine! I can heal you if you get hurt! So come on, don't be shy. . .right over here!"
"Bloody woman, I am already over here, no thanks to your iron-grip. . ." he muttered, wincing. Erk felt quite sorry for him now, despite him laughing earlier. "You know, I've been wondering about this a while. . .But. . .are you really one of Elimine's Clerics? Are you sure you're not actually the follower of some dark, evil god?" Matthew said many things that Erk did not see eye to eye, but this he had to agree to.
"That was very, very, very mean, Matthew! Are you trying to hurt my tender feelings?"
". . .Hmm. Tender. Right. Let's get going," he said, grumpily walking by her side. The dark forest seemed to close around them, adding to the gloomy mood of the scene. ". . .Blimey, I should have jumped into the sea when I had the chance. . ."
Well, there goes my nuisance. . ., Erk noted dully as he watched them go, arm in arm.
"What did I tell you?" said the Wyvern Lord haughtily, causing the Wyvern Rider to scowl. "I told you they'd be here. We could have caught up with them faster if it weren't for you. I should have just left you in Bern." At this, the rider gave a subtle smirk.
"Except that I'm the only one Queen Hellene and Prince Zephiel allowed to go, and you need all the help you can get, yes. You should have definitely abandoned me." His smirk grew wider as it was the other's turn to scowl. Silence momentarily stretched over the two.
". . .They're pretty slow, huh?" the rider went on, running a hand through his crimson hair. "Four days and they still haven't gone over the mountains." The other threw him an exasperated look.
"Not everyone has a wyvern; they can't travel as fast us," he rebuked. "You should not be so arrogant to judge others like that."
"Arrogant? Me?" the rider answered, feigning a scandalized tone. "Heh, you happen to be speaking to the cousin of the future king of Bern. Yes, commander, I'm bloody arrogant."
". . ."
". . ."
"Wyvern riders!" Hector hissed suddenly, looking at the sky behind them. "Wyvern riders!!" he bellowed this time, loud enough for the whole army to hear. "Get ready!!"
"Wyvern riders?" asked Rai calmly, only mildly surprised. "Here? Huh. That's unusual. Everyone! Prepare for an attack!"
"Commander?" asked the Wyvern Rider skeptically, squinting down at the tiny moving dots. "Are they assuming battle positions?"
"Indeed they are," casually answered the lord. "They've spotted us."
Nervously, "I hope they don't have any Archers." Seeing as how wyvern riders are also flying units, arrows were deadly to them unless they had a Delphi's Shield. Which they didn't.
"Most likely they don't, but you never know."
"Commander! That wasn't funny!!"
"I wasn't joking."
Wyvern riders of Bern. . .Priscilla thought with a pang in her heart.
Heath. . .
Her heart clutched painfully.
I have to fight, no matter how much they remind me of him, she repeated to herself. I must. They are enemies, regardless of their steeds. . .
She tightened her grip on her Fire tome.
I must be strong. For him
"Maybe I should scout first," the rider suggested. The lord shook his head heavily.
"No. You'll only get yourself killed."
"If we go both at the same time," the rider argued, undaunted, "we'll get us both killed! Let me go, commander. At least it'll be only one of us."
"No!" came the sharp reply. The red-haired Wyvern Rider cringed noticeably. The fierceness in his commander's tone was clear, and unusual. "No. You are a cousin of the crown prince. I. . .I am nothing. A nobody. I am naught but a deserter from the Bern's wyvern riders. It was a miracle that I got out of Biran, unscathed and alive. I will not let you get killed, do you hear?"
". . ."
He glanced at his commander, sympathy and pity in his eyes, but he obeyed and cruised lazily along.
"Wyvern riders are strong, but they have a major flaw," Rai said as she positioned her magic troops in the lead. Priscilla was in the very front, seeing as how she was easily the strongest of all her magic users. "Well, two, technically, if you count the arrow thing. They have unbelievably low resistance to magic, especially compared to their stout defense.
"If you get hurt, Serra will heal you. We'll finish them off in no time," she encouraged Priscilla, Erk, Lucius, and Nino. "Hector and Eliwood! I trust you to eliminate them if they should somehow miraculously survive. Let's go!"
The rider strained to see. The frontal lines. . .they were not warriors.
"They have magic users in the front," he announced as the Wyvern Lord gave a jolt of surprise.
"Magic users?" he echoed promptly. "Do you. . .do you see a Valkerie?" The redhead squinted again.
"No. . .yes. . .actually, it's kind of hard to tell—even with my eyesight—but I'm pretty sure," he decided. 'This is even more dangerous than I had first thought. . .' he added privately.
"Slower," the commander ordered. "We don't want to appear as a threat."
"It doesn't really matter whether we go fast or slow, because they'll kill us anyway, but as you say, commander. I'll proudly fly into my death in your order!"
"Shut up and obey."
"As I've said, yes sir."
"They're getting closer," Nino breathed, almost fearfully. But she wasn't afraid; Jaffar stood behind her. His mere presence strengthened and fortified her. A most curious effect. It was useful, nevertheless. Whenever her heart failed, she turned to the ex- Angel of Death. Almost anyone else would have fainted in his company, but for her, it was different. He was reassuring. He was like a fort to her, protective and inspiring.
". . ." A man of few words, as usual.
"I-I don't want to fail them," she confessed. She felt his hand on her shoulder.
". . .You won't." Remember, I've witnessed your strength first-hand, he added silently. You are strong. . .you'll not fail. She nodded, almost as if she had heard him.
'Jaffar. . .I'm thankful that you're with me.'
"I can't take this. I won't get both of us killed, commander!" The Wyvern Rider suddenly fished out a vial from his traveling sack and drunk out of it. The lord raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Pure Water," he mumbled through hurried gulps. The lord halted for a split second, confused.
". . .WHAT?!" he exploded, the rider's intentions finally dawning on him. "Stop right there—"
Too late.
The Wyvern Rider raced off, charging toward Rai's troops alone.
"Fool—!!" the Wyvern Lord gasped as he did a double take. He then kicked for his wyvern to go faster, tightly clasping the reins. "Hurry up! That idiot's going to kill himself—make haste!"
"They've picked up speed!" Priscilla cried to no one in particular. She felt the atmosphere surrounding her grow noticeably tense. As the two flying specks approached, she could just barely make out the red hair of the first Wyvern Rider. She chanted the spell under her breath, getting ready for the big clash. She could feel the power flowing through her—yes. This one was going to be deadly.
Heath. . .this is for you!
---
The Wyvern Rider gained speed as he flew, and the distant dots became clearer and clearer.
Yes, his superior eyesight had not failed him. Indeed there was a Valkerie in the front. As he approached, he could see a strong red glow on her hands. The sign of an upcoming critical magic attack.
"Ah!" the rider cried as he sped toward the troop, his surroundings blurry. He had drank Pure Water—which reduces damage from magic attacks somewhat—just in case, but from her stance and the strength of the glow, he could tell that this attack was going to be one hell of an attack. This was an unpleasant twist that he did not expect.
"Slow down, slow down!!" He yanked on the reins, but his wyvern was speeding too fast to decelerate immediately. One-handedly he fumbled for the vial and took another haste gulp from it, out of sheer desperation. He could see the Valkerie's face—too close!
"Co-commander Heath—!! Stay back—"
---
"Fire!" Priscilla cried, completing the spell. She heard the rider call out, but she was too occupied with seeing that the fireball landed on its mark to care.
"Yes!!" she heard Rai exclaim as the Wyvern Rider plummeted down toward the ground, unconscious and wrapped in a blanket of fire. She quickly recited the spell again, getting ready for yet another assault. That was when she spotted the unique hairstyle of the approaching Wyvern Lord. Details rushed into her brain—it was a familiar face, one that she so longed to see.
Too late her mind put together the cry of the Wyvern Rider and the Wyvern Lord.
"S-saint Elimine!" she exclaimed, realizing her mistake. She waved her hands frantically back at her fellow magic users, who were about to follow her suit. "Stop—stop!! That's. . .that's Heath!!"
". . ."
"Heath. . .I. . .I truly apologize. Had I known that he was with you—"
Wyvern lord Heath put a hand on Priscilla's arm. They were in a tent, with the bandaged Wyvern Rider laying on a makeshift bed, still out cold. "I know. You would have never attacked him. It was his fault, really. He raced off when I specifically told him not to."
"Heath. . ." The Valkerie's eyes welled with tears. She had hurt her love's comrade. She would never forgive herself.
"Shh. . .I told you. It's alright. He's not dead."
"But—"
Heath raised a hand to stop her. "Peace, dear Priscilla. He's not dead. That's all that matters." A slow nod. "By the way, how's his wyvern?" The secluded princess of Cornwell managed a small smile through her tears.
"Well. . .he's got some burns on him, but at least he hasn't eaten too much." Heath laughed gratefully.
"Ha ha! I suppose you're remembering the time when Hyperion stole from Merlinus's supply?" he recalled, his gray eyes soft and wistful. Back in the day. . .has it really been only a year? It seemed like an eternity. It was when he first joined Rai's troop; when he'd had his first conversation with Priscilla. Hyperion wouldn't fly, and Priscilla told him that his wyvern had probably eaten too much. . .back then, everything was so peaceful between the two. He had been safe—somewhat—from bounty hunters from Bern. He used to see her every day. . .he used to talk to her, get his wounds mended, and fall in love with her. . .
Everything seemed so far away, and so dreamlike. He was on the run, and she was back in Etruria. But now. . .
"H-heath. . ." she murmured, her eyes cloudy. He supposed that she was thinking along the same lines, remembering what it all had been like back a year.
"I know," he cleared his throat. The two stared in silence. How beautiful she looks, he thought, even with her face marred by tears. . .Unable to resist any father, he drew her close to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I missed you too. The time at the feast had been far too short. . ."
"I. . .oh, Heath. . ." She returned the embrace, tears of longing flowing freely from her eyes.
---
Rai scratched her head absentmindedly as she sat on a log near the temporary tent. Her troops were all near her, dispersed around here and there. "We should probably stop here for the night. . ." She looked up to see Erk's unhappy expression.
"Why the gloomy face, Erk?" The purple-haired Mage started.
"Oh. . .Rai. It's. . .nothing," he said. It was plain as day that he was lying.
"We have two more to fight for us now! More protection—be happy!" she said, smiling. She was right. With the addition of the two wyvern warriors, they were not as vulnerable from air-assaults now.
"Right. . .happy. . ." Erk repeated ungraciously. He turned even more incredibly moody when Heath and Priscilla came out of the tent, the blasted Wyvern Lord's arm around the precious lady. Strategist Rai bounded up at once, forgetting about him (as everyone was so fond of doing lately) and bombarded them with questions.
"What did you say that his name was?" To Heath, of course.
"Zell. Zell of Biran," he answered. For some unknown reason, Priscilla beamed proudly up at him, which made the Mage sick in the stomach. Her smile, it was just so. . .adoring. Like he had just completed an unbelievably heroic deed or something. Honestly, what was so splendid and outstanding about answering a simple inquiry? It was a reply to an uncomplicated question, m'lady. There's nothing special about that. Unlike magic, of course, as she should already know. Magic was so remarkably difficult, yet amazing, and so—
"Right. And I vaguely seem to recall you commenting briefly on his relation to Prince Zephiel. . .?"
"He's a cousin of the prince," Heath replied. "He may be a royalty, but he will prove to be an excellent addition to the troop. He'll follow whatever his superior says, despite his commander's blood heritage," he added quickly, noticing Rai's skeptical sniff. Usually, he added mentally.
"Uh-huh. Yes. And I also remember something about you going into Bern to personally fetch him. . ." the tactician trailed off, glaring at the wyvern lord suspiciously, "when you happen to be a fugitive from Bern. . ."
"Ah. . .well. . .yes, but—" Heath replied uncomfortably, noticing both Priscilla's and Rai's thunderstruck expressions.
"How could you, Heath?!" the red-haired valkerie exploded, cutting him off. "Did you ever think about me, when you were going to Bern without telling me? How I would feel? What if you had been captured, tortured, beaten, and never to return to me—and how heartbroken I will be? Have you ever thought about that, Heath?! What if the king hanged you for treason? Oh, Heath—you fool!" The tactician spoke no word, yet anger was clearly present in her eyes. Erk arched an eyebrow, expecting a titanic clash—well, more like a major beatdown on Rai's part—to take place soon.
"Please," Heath pleaded, "listen to me, you two." The two ladies regarded him coolly.
"This quest, however small and quick it might be, I still had a lingering feeling that more protection would prove useful soon," he explained hurriedly. "So I went to the only source I knew. . Biran's wyvern riders. The plan was to go to Queen Hellene directly and ask for assistance—" he saw the horrified expressions on their faces "—since I knew that she had not yet forgotten Lord Eliwood's critical role in stopping Prince Zephiel's attempted assassination. And it did work, although not as well as I would have liked. Fearing King Desmond's anger, Queen Hellene agreed to lend a helping hand, under one condition—she could only offer what others freely gave. I was to take only volunteers. Zell was the only one who did. Prince Zephiel did not wish for his cousin to leave, yet Zell was firm about it. He told me that he could not leave a fellow Biran rider in trouble, fugitive or not. After much arguments, Queen Hellene agreed. She gave us some treasures, but that was all other she could offer, lest it aroused the king's suspicions—he still doesn't trust her fully, she told me. Which reminds me. . ." He reached into his travel bag and drew out several gleaming jewels.
"Three Red Gems. An offering from Her Highness of Biran. She hopes that it will be useful to you, however little it might be," he said as he handed Rai the sparkling crimson stones. She appeared stunned as she reached for them. "She also apologies for not being much of a help."
"I. . .I don't know what to say," she said in an awed voice. "I am honored. Thank you. . ." Silent momentarily settled over while she stood there, basking in wonder. Only when Heath cleared his throat lightly did she snap out of her dreamy state.
"And, um, everyone. As I was saying before, we should probably stop here for the night. Yes, yes, I know, it's barely afternoon and all, but with—Lord Zell? Just Zell. Ah. Thank you, Heath—Zell in his state, I'm afraid we cannot further pursue our target, not until he at least wakes up. Let's set up tents and get a fire going for meals."
"La, la. . .la la la. . .La la la, laa. . .la. . ." Serra hummed as she gathered shriveled twigs for firewood. Once every fifteen seconds or so, she would straighten up and complain about what hard work Hector made her do.
"Honestly, what does he think I am, a work mule?" she would whine. "Sending a fragile and tender woman such as myself to gather logs for fire. . .I mean, I know I am beautiful and every man love me so, but that's no reason to make excuses and seclude me so that he'll have me all to himself! Lord Hector is completely tactless. . .if he wants my love, then instead of going around, he should take the shortcut, and just come out and tell me how he feels!" was one of her favorite topics to complain about, among many other things.
And she also did not like the way Erk was being such a grouch all of a sudden. It all started after Heath arrived with that new recruit named Zell. Ooh, Zell. . .He was all bandaged up right now, but before they (her and Priscilla) did so, she could tell that he was quite attractive. He had short blood-red hair like a blazing crimson flame and a set of fierce amber eyes that matched his wyvern's (they checked his eyes for consciousness/damages).
Wait, wait! She was getting off-topic. Erky was being so mean! He was being such a grouch all of a sudden! (Had she already said that?) He yelled his head off at her for delicately telling him to come and protect her (seeing as how Matthew ran off and hid somewhere—she was SO going to tell Hector on him!!)! And he yelled at her again when she accidentally (honest!) tripped him so that he landed facedown in front of Heath and Priscilla, who were going to go for a walk! It's not like she meant to do it! She said sorry (in a very bouncy tone) but nooo, he just screamed at her some more! He only stopped shrieking at her only when Priscilla asked him what was wrong. Perfect, gorgeous, Valkerie Pricilla. All guys falling left-and-right Priscilla. Quiet, dignified Priscilla, who was so unlike Cleric Serra, loudmouthed and annoying.
It's not like she didn't know what others talked about behind her back. Everyone hated her, she knew. Erk, too. He was no different. He. . .
". . ."
She straightened up.
Why did he hate her so much? She was beautiful, graceful, shapely, plus, she was an Elimine Cleric! What was there to hate?
You're not perfect, whispered a voice inside her head nastily. You're not faultless and peaceable like Priscilla. Remember what others said? Remember. . .?
Why can't Serra be more like Priscilla?
Oh! Priscilla! How gorgeous you look today!
I knew that I could count on you, Priscilla. You're an excellent healer as well as an outstanding mage.
Excellent as usual, Lady Priscilla! You've already mastered the Thunder. We can move to Elfire next.
Serra! Pay attention! You won't be able to become a Bishop if you wander off like that!
Leave me alone. I don't want you around here.
You are a frustrating woman. . .do you ever shut your mouth?
". . .Sniff. . ." How embarrassing. She quickly wiped away the tear that was rolling down her cheek. So what if others weren't so nice to her as they were to Priscilla? It was their loss!
There was a sudden rustle in the bushes. Serra whirled around quickly, dropping what little twigs she had gathered. She cautiously picked up a rock—she couldn't use Light magic yet—with a shaking hand.
It's probably just an animal. . .I'm being so paranoid, she thought when the noises stopped. She gave a nervous laugh. All that edginess around the camp must be getting to her! Her feeble giggling hitched in her throat and died away when the crunching came again.
"W-who's there?" she called, uneasiness showing through the quivering of her voice. "I'm-I'm armed! I'm warning you, I'm dangerous!"
There it is again, she couldn't help but think fearfully. It's getting louder—!
"I warned you. . .I'll. . .I'll hurt you!"
Silence.
The noises—right behind her!!
She whirled around.
"Eeeeeee!!! Eeeeeeeeee!!!!" she shrieked loudly and dropped the rock in surprise. There was a leafy monster, heading straight for her!
"My vision of delight—" While the monster jumbled nonsense, Serra wasted no time picking up the rock again. This time—
"My ange—(thuck)—aah!!" Bull's eye! She watched in satisfaction as it slid down onto the forest floor, unconscious.
"Sain—SAIN!!" bellowed a voice. She picked up the rock again, preparing to launch once more, but her hand hung limply in air as a familiar face poked out of the woods.
"S-sir Kent?" she stammered, lowering her hand. The carrot-haired cavalier burst forth, bending over the fallen monster. She was thoroughly confused. Sain. . .?
"Lady Lyndis! Over here!" he called, completely ignoring her. A teal-haired woman in Sacaen dressing emerged from the depths of the trees, barely giving Serra a glance. Kent regarded the newcomer grimly. "Looks like he has a minor head injury, but he should be fine. Of course, he might suffer from a brain damage or such. . ."
"With Sain," the woman sighed as she too, bent over the lifeless figure, "you wouldn't be able to tell."
"Lyn. . .? Sir Kent. . .?" The two flinched, just noticing that Serra was there. The Sacaen noblewoman tried to smile.
"Serra. Didn't see you there," she said, attempting to appear friendly, but sounding grim and tightlipped instead. "Sorry. I was worried about Sain."
"Sain? You mean that green thing. . .?" Serra gasped. Kent nodded bleakly. She gasped again. She had just nearly killed Sain!!
"How did that happen?!" she shrieked. The two cringed again.
"Well. . ." Lyn started, "Sain thought it safer if we had a scout, so he volunteered. Apparently, he fell into a mud hole, couldn't see a thing so he ran through low branches, getting green leaves all over himself, heard you here and came to talk to you. Evidently he didn't realize how. . .bad. . .he looked. My apologies for giving you such a fright." Serra nodded quickly, her heart still hammering.
"It's fine, Lyn. It's just that I—"
"SERRA, you blasted woman! You had better not be playing jokes again!!" called a powerful voice. All eyes rushed toward the direction. There were sounds of trees being torn down.
It was Hector, who was still slightly angry from last night. Lyn and Kent looked puzzled, while Serra let out a low whimper. She was so going to die! He must have heard her screaming and came looking for her. . .and he didn't sound too happy about it, either!
"SERRA—" An armored Hector materialized. At the same time, from the exact opposite direction from him, Wil the Archer came rushing out of the forest.
"Milady—eeeaahhh!!!" Wil cried as Hector picked him up blindly and started to swing the poor archer over his head. "Aaee-aaa-aaa-aaah!!"
"I thought I told you not to get in—" Everyone stood with their eyes wide open, petrified for a brief moment, but then the Sacaen woman snapped back to her senses.
"Hector!" Lyn interjected loudly. "I would appreciate it if you would kindly put my vassal down!" Hector froze in mid-twirl of the green archer then glanced slowly down at her. His expression turned from anger, bewilderment (longing, too, perhaps?), then back to anger again.
"Lyn. . .?" the Great Lord asked, dumbfounded, as his hands gradually fell to his sides. (Wil dropped onto the ground with an "Aaaiie!" and a loud thud) "What are you. . .doing here?" The last time he saw her was her leaving with Kent, Sain, and Wil back to Caelin. What was going on?
"I came back," she replied simply, helping the very dizzy archer up. "I changed my mind." Hector's blue eyebrows twitched. That was never a good sign. Lyn, apparently not detecting anything, went on to ask Wil about any injuries. His mouth opened furiously to argue with her, but when he saw the state both Sain (it was kind of hard to tell; that's why it took so long for him to notice) and Wil (whom he thought was an enemy so he went head-on, without axes or swords or whatever) were in, he changed his inquiry halfway through.
"I'll have a talk with you later," he said gruffly, swallowing his angry words back. He glanced at the two injured vassals of Caelin. "First, let's get these two back to the tents." And so they went, dragging and supporting the two injured units toward the camp.
---
Evening
The sky is constant, no matter where you are on Elibe, Lyn thought wistfully as she gazed up at the star-filled heaven. Night breeze swept through her, somehow squeezing between the tight spaces of the thick trees. But nothing can surpass lying on the Sacaen plains, breathing the gentle scent of Mother Earth, feeling the wind blowing across you as you stare up at the sky. . .
The faint song of her beloved plains reached out to her, even though she was a great distance away from it. The land of her ancestors. . .the land of her birthplace. . .the land that her mother loved. . .
She was so, so far away from it all. She had been, for the past year. Her time with her grandfather was happy, but there always was an unfilled spot in her heart, where the Sacaen plains used to be. An empty place, one that could be never fulfilled in Caelin. Yet, Caelin was yet another home to her. Her mother was from it, originally. Lyn herself had dwelt there with her grandfather for a year now.
She strove to become a true Lycian noblewoman, all for the sake of her grandfather. But two years ago, back when she had not yet known about her true heritage, she had despised all Lycian nobles, back when her father and mother were still with her. And that part still lingered, despite all the lessons on how to become a proper lady. She struggled to become a princess of Caelin, yet she despised herself for it. She was confused, so confused. . .everything in her life was so bewildering to her now, even her own identity. Who was she? A Lycian or a Sacaen? A nobility or a plainsdweller? Where did she belong?
Where was her home? The busy, bustling Castle Caelin or the silent, windswept plains of Sacae?
Who was she?
"Lyn."
A voice cut through her thoughts. She whirled around. Hector's solemn face jumped out at her. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Hector. . ." she replied with as much sharpness as she could muster, quickly regaining her composure. She crossed her arms stubbornly, trying to cover up her embarrassment. "Why have you called me out here alone, this late? I hope this is important; I am tired, and crave for some decent rest."
"It might be of no meaning to you," Hector replied gravely, "but it is of great meaning to me. Tell me the truth." There was a pause.
Lyn furrowed her eyebrows together. ". . .Yes?" He cleared his throat, as if feeling self-conscious to be speaking with her like this.
"Why have you come back?" Will you say that it was because of me? Hector wanted to ask. But most likely it was your sense of responsibility. Lyn, can't you see? There are more important things than fighting and duties. . . He, of course, knew better than to say it out loud.
The noblewoman regarded him with a questioning look. Was this Hector's idea of a bad joke? "I couldn't abandon my friends, especially when they were going on a dangerous quest."
". . ." He merely gazed at her, and their eyes met for a split second. As short as it was, the moment seemed to go on forever in Lyn's mind. She felt as though she were drowning in those pair of blue, blue pools. They were sucking her in, unwilling to let go. Their clutches. . .as powerful as Hector himself. . . In that brief moment, she realized.
She missed the days where everything was so simple for her, her sole aim in life to defeat Nergal. There had been no time to ponder on her identity, no time to get miserable, no time to be confused.
She missed the battles. She missed fighting by his side. She missed his determined presence in her fighting days, the good old days that could never come back.
She missed it all.
"Ex-excuse me," she murmured as she barely managed to tear her gaze away from him. "I apologize for cutting this short, but I must get some sleep. . ." Without another word, she turned. As tired as she was, she half-wanted him to stop him, to talk to him all night as the two reminisced when their paths were one. But he didn't. She didn't hear him move, not even after she went back to her tent and changed into her nightclothes. She laid in her bed and tried to fall asleep, but found that she couldn't. Her brain was swimming with her own thoughts, which ran through her head like a rapid unwilling to be tamed.
All her thoughts were jumbled and mixed together save for one. The image of Hector's eyes blazed vividly amidst all the mess.
She shut her eyes tightly, and willed for it go away. But the picture had a mind of its own, and it continued to linger on.
She remained awake for a long, long time, unable to fall asleep.
Author's Note: Uh. . . .the winter break completely threw me off-track. Sorry for taking so long! And yes, I realize that a lot of things are crammed in here together, but it was really critical for the plot for me to put it all in. I apologize for the crappy-ness, too! –jumps off a cliff-
Wistful-Eyes: Grraarl. I suck at action X.X
XxMastaFreakxX: Thank you! And yes, that moment is one of my favorites too.
Drizzt Do'Urden (For Ch. 1): Thank you. . .Yes, details are crucial, no? (XD)
AxelWildfire000: Thank you! But yeah. . .but I think my pathetic romance pieces are what's driving my future reviewers-to-be away (XD)
Katelynn: Thank you! Yeah, poor Erk. . .
Bomber the Scoto Fox: Really? I thought the enemies sounded like some arrogant idiots who were just being stupid. . .(well, one of them, at least) Thank you for your review!
P.S. –bangs head on keyboard continually. . .- This. . .is awful. . .