A/N – Why, hello all. ;; It's, erm, a pleasure to see you! It's been nearly two months. Eheheh. Please don't kill me. Please. I'll have you know I'm disgusted with myself for taking so freakin' long to update. But to all those who reviewed and kept me going…I thank you very much. I never thought my little fic about Guy going insane would be as successful as it is. And yeah, to me, 14 reviews? Pretty successful. I'll put review responses at the END of the chapter again. Thanks!
I'd also like to warn you that for plot reasons, this chapter uses OOC. But I tried to keep the OOC in-character at the same time…if that…makes sense… ;; Just read.
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is not mine.
'Chapter Three – Broken'
Battles had been feeling different for Guy lately.
Normally he'd don a semi-false air of confidence, unsheathe his sword, and hack wildly at whichever enemy he was ordered to. He'd even, at that point, believed himself to be skilled.
Despite what he'd heard, who he'd failed to defeat, or whatever a more sensible part of his mind told him, he still thought he was skilled then.
Stupid of him.
Now, he was barely thinking about anything except the fight. Other thoughts would distract him. All he could let himself think about was the battle, the opponent he faced. Finding weaknesses, eliminating the enemies that truly posed a threat, with what weapon and technique to attack next – that was it.
If his training had taught him anything – truly taught him – it was more how to think during a fight than how to actually fight. Before Karel, he was always hesitant. He was merciful. He was weak.
'Things are different now', thought Guy as he violently slashed an enemy mercenary with his blade. He was hardly fazed by the spray of blood, even as a few specks of the warm, red liquid splattered on to his face. It still set off a distant alarm signal in his head, but he managed to keep himself from looking (or feeling, really) disgusted in any way.
A while back, he'd hated blood in every possible way. Since the sword-demon Karel had taken him as a student, though, he'd spilled and shed enough blood, both in battle and as he practiced, that he was used to it.
Used to it. The sight, the scent, the feel – of blood. The thought of ever being 'used to it' disturbed Guy. He was, though. He couldn't deny that.
He had changed. He couldn't deny that, either.
Suddenly, Guy felt the distinctive pain that could only be a sharp blade. Such pain was making its way down Guy's back, and he could feel blood seeping out of a wound. As soon as he felt the cold steel disconnect with his body, he whipped around to face his surprise attacker.
An enemy myrmidon faced him. Guy wasted no time; he thrust his sword straight into the enemy's heart. His foe had a split second to wheeze and cough as a scarlet blot appeared on his chest, oozing out and staining his clothes, and then, as Guy pulled his blade from his aggressor's body, fell to the ground, dead.
Another myrmidon appeared, and then a mercenaries. Fighters, archers and thieves. Guy killed every last one of them.
'I really have changed,' Guy thought as he cut down an opposing cavalier, 'Sometimes, I worry myself. But I'm stronger, and I like that. I've changed for the better.'
He let out a sigh of relief as his enemy fell. "That's about all of them over here." He said, raising a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and then carelessly brushing dark green bangs out of his eyes. He was covered in sweat and blood, and he was tired.
He glanced around the battlefield. The tactician had carefully ordered most of the army into groups of two or three, with a few people here and there (including Guy himself) going solo. Where were the healers? She must have sent at least one into this fight. It was no piece of cake.
He seriously needed a healer. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he wasn't tended to soon. He'd survived, yes, but it had been tough. He wouldn't be able to take much more.
It happened so suddenly.
Guy felt a strange sort of energy surge viciously through his body. It stung, and then it pulsed, and then it unleashed all hell – within a second or less.
He wanted to curse, but found he could not speak. He must have been hit by magic! Powerful anima magic. He didn't have time to think about it, he just knew.
He screamed in pain – the best he could do. His body twitched and shook violently for about a minute, and then ceased movement entirely, falling to the hard ground below.
Matthew would know that voice anywhere, even if 'that voice' at the moment was screaming in agony.
That was Guy's voice. And it didn't sound too good.
He pulled his knife from his opponent's body. "Finish him off for me." He said to the two nearest allies. He then turned and sprinted in the direction of the scream.
"Hang on." He whispered, knowing but not caring how useless he would be.
An hour later, the battle had ended, and Matthew found himself standing over a bed in a special tent that had been set up for the healers. Guy wasn't the only one who had been seriously hurt in the last battle. On either side of his Matthew, other beds were set up. One hosted a half-conscious Raven (who Lucius was busying himself tending to) and on the other side, Heath. Two more beds were set up to Heath's left, but Matthew really couldn't care to look at the moment and see which possible friends were lying there, suffering.
He wasn't paying much attention to the other patients, except for when his sensitive, trained spy's ears picked up snippets of conversation.
"…stupid…" He caught a voice saying somewhere within the tent.
Stupid.
The word rang in Matthew's ears over and over, like the echoing clang of a bell. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He shook his head and couldn't help a small smile from etching itself onto his face. Guy really was the same. He just went about things differently, Matthew assured himself, and he'd gotten better with the sword. 'He's still the same.' He thought. At least, he honestly hoped so. He still had doubts. Horrible, nagging, painful doubts.
"You're an idiot, Guy." He said out loud, speaking to a motionless shell, "You're reckless and stubborn as hell." He conveniently stopped himself from adding any sort of line to that, as it would most likely have turned out to be something along the lines of, 'That's what I like so much about you, kid.'
Instead, he just stood there, silent and rigid. No more talking. Now was the time to observe. Guy's body would probably be okay. Aside from a few deep wounds and mild burns that were already mending thanks to healing staves, Guy was physically intact. His green hair still snaked, braided, along his back. His face still, even in sleep, held its boyish look. He was the same size. Yes, Guy's body would be alright. It was normal. Just marked. Temporarily marked.
It wasn't Guy's body that Matthew was worried about now. It was his soul.
"Hey."
A smooth, calm voice jarred Matthew back to reality. He looked over to his side. Standing near Heath's bed was a tall, thin man with long hair. The former Black Fang assassin, Legault.
Matthew hadn't noticed it before, but lately his hatred for the Black Fang seemed distant. It was present, it was as alive as he was, but it wasn't quite as strong. Like there was a new hatred, one that had to be dealt with right now, and the Black Fang could wait a bit.
"What're you doing here?" He asked bluntly. The words came out almost on their own.
Legault gave him a questioning look. "Same as you. Visiting." He said, "Similarily, I could ask you why you're talking to me, but I don't mind. Really."
"So what," said Matthew, "that 'hey' there was for Heath?"
"Indeed it was." Legault replied simply, giving that typical Legault grin.
"Well, that seems rather silly. He's unconscious." Matthew answered and gave his own smile, unable to tell if it was real or not even himself. 'Hypocrite.' He said mentally to himself after the comment.
"As if you weren't talking to Guy just now."
"Heh." Was all Matthew said in reply, waiting for Legault to either keep going or keep quiet.
"You must really like the kid. You've been in here for a while. But remember," mused the purple-haired thief, "You aren't the only one who cares for someone."
Matthew looked away. What was that supposed to mean? As usual, he just couldn't listen to the other thief talk for very long. Glancing back at Guy, still comatose on the bed, he said 'goodbye' in his mind, then turned and left the tent.
He'd come back tomorrow.
Karel moved like a wraith through the army's camp. There was something eerie about the way he walked. Fast but soundlessly. More like floating or gliding over the earth then actually setting foot upon it.
All evening and into the night, people had been in and out of the healer's tent, but the sword-demon had yet to go near the place. He'd always had a significant lack of interest in healing. After all, the cutting and the bloodshed was so much more fun.
On the other hand, his apprentice was in there. Guy. For whatever reason, he felt like he needed to see the boy, and so, he decided he'd make a short visit.
He paused before the tent. Before he could step inside, another person rushed out.
The one person who definitely didn't want to see Karel.
Matthew.
-End Chapter-
A/N – This chapter, I'm happy with. Finally. Not so much the end, but the rest, well…I like this fic today, and that's that. I promise that I have not given up on this fic. No matter how long it takes to update (and no more near-two-month intervals, hm?), I will write this fic to the bitter end. Thank you all for putting up with an authoress as lazy as me. I love you guys.
Review responses:
ShadowAngel2429: Oh? What's this? Another KarelxGuy shipper? YAY! Admittedly this is more of a Matthew/Guy fic, but as the next few chapters will center heavily around Karel, the Karel/Guy will be far more present. I'm glad you liked the fic!
Hippogriff: Reviews like that, while not the most helpful, do indeed fill me with glee. hugs you
Ryzuki: I'm glad you liked my work. Hmmm, it's seeming more like MxG…I'll have to write more KxG (strictly KxG) in the future. Glad I've sparked someone's interest in a fresh new pairing though!
Flamefirefox: Hey, I told you all I'd update. And gasp! Here I am again! As for Matthew's IC-ness, I think I handled it pretty well, personally. I was going by the way he treats (and probably thinks about) the Black Fang members in the party (Jaffar in particular) for a little guideline to the way for him to treat Karel…
KaibasShadowGirl: Hey hey, no problem. Not EVERY review has to be huge, after all. It's just nice to know I'm appreciated around these parts. :P
Radical Edward – Ed likes? Ed gets a cookie from Thea! (Thea being…me!) gives you a cookie