Familiarity
By Timberwolf220
DISCLAIMER: I own the catridge, nothing more
Pairing: Matthew x Guy
(O)(O)(O)
In order to get to Valor, one must cross the borders of Bern into Sacae for smooth traveling. Of course, we could have taken a shorter route in Bern itself, however, considering the turmoil Bern was in at the moment, the tactician suggested that our presence was not required there to add onto that and we were involved in it too much as it is. So, with light hearts we crossed the border of the mountains and saw below them, the barren viridian fields of Sacae.
For the Sacaens (me included), this was a great privilege. It took us hours to convince Lady Lyndis to come inside her tent and she couldn't sleep outside like she used to. Rath couldn't care much, but there was an odd melancholy tone in his movements and his voice (when he did talk, that is), but Wil kept him occupied. Which was good, I suppose. Maybe I should have offered a comforting word or two. After all, we came from the same tribe after all, it was the least I could do. But some great exhilaration had instilled itself in my heart and I begged the tactician whether he would grant me leave to go see my mother.
If there was a reason for remaining in the army, it would be to protect my mother. Yes, that sounds sappy and melodramatic and not something coming out of a seventeen-year old mouth. But she was all I ever had, all that I ever will have beside the blade by my waist. My memories with her have been nothing but pleasant and I can still remember the stories of ghosts on the plains and the spirits of the sky and nature and of the dark below.
Yeesh, I do sound like a sap.
The tactician granted me leave and I set off, a light heart in my chest and a smile so broad decorating my face. At this rate, I might end up giving my tribe a heart-attack with this kind of attitude, but I couldn't care less. They've mocked me enough, but I have nearly reached my goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever.
Because we are a nomadic tribe (we travel a lot) it lot me almost a day to find them. They saw me approach, the dying Sun on my back and hailed me.
"Guy," They said, shaking their heads, "You have good timing to be here now."
"Why do you say that?" I said, suddenly clutching the hilt of my sword in fear, "What happened? Was there an attack?" Like Lycia, Sacae is divided. Except we don't have states, we have patches of territory which we defend with our life.
"Come. Your mother is waiting," Their lips were tight and for the first time, I saw sympathy shimmering in their fervent green eyes, green so like my own. (1)
"M-Mother," That shook me out of my worries and I ran up to her tent, the one with designs of the Sun. My mother loved the Sun and I have hand-crafted that tent myself for her before I left. I knew instinctively she would be still using it despite Silver Wolf's rule that tents over a period of time must be disposed.
I drew back the tent flap and saw her sleeping. I sighed in relief and shook her gently, "Mother, I'm here. I came back!"
There was no response, her eyes still closed tightly as before. I felt a slight disappointment fill me and a nagging throbbing feeling that was slowly enveloping me. Why won't she wake up?
"Guy, you mother has been called," It was the Kutolah shaman. He oversees the rituals of manhood, birth, predictions…and death, "She has been called—,"
"Quiet!" I hissed, "She's sleeping!" I shook her once more, "Come on Mother, please wake up!" She was so still, so quiet. Her skin was cool to my touch and I placed her hand on my cheek, just like she used to, "Mother, please wake up!"
There was no response. I shook her harder this time, the panic now raging in me and I felt myself crack slowly, "Mother, it's Guy! Guy!" I turned desperately at the Kutolah shaman who was still standing by the entrance, "Wake her up!" I felt something trickle down to my cheek and I wiped it away furiously, "Wake her up!"
"She has been called," He began once more, and the slow recollections of this speech now echoing through my mind like a battering ram, "To the spirits of the sky and nature and the dark below. She will return one day when Hagar (2) comes with his stallions to set this world right and she—,"
"She's not dead!" I snapped, "She's not!" I placed my mother's cold hand on my face once more and trailed it down my cheek. Just like she used to do, "Mother, I'm so close to becoming the greatest swordsman. See?" He gestured to his Killing Edge, "I can fight anyone now! I'm strong!" And yet, why won't the tears stop?
The Kutolah Shaman had left. Probably to tell the others the news, I suppose. But I couldn't care, I simply couldn't. All I could do was hold onto my mother's cold fingers and let them rest on my warm cheeks. And maybe if I tried hard enough…she will be warm again.
(O)
Return, return!
To the heavenly cycle
Rebirth, reborn!
When we see you again
And Hagar will come
With stallions of fire and wind
He will shape this world anew
Return, return!
To nature's bosom
She calls you
And you can not deny her warmth
I hated this prayer. When I was a child, I remember another night like this, where the stars were covered with gloomy clouds and though there was no rain, my cheeks were damp that night. My mother stood beside me, a silent pillar of strength in that time. But when I touched her face, her cheeks were damp too. The fires blazed and I couldn't stand closer to them, fear that if I did, the flames would whisk me away.
Today, when I stood besides the flames, I sincerely wished that would happen to me.
Silver Wolf made some speech, but I didn't hear a word. I suppose this was disrespect at its highest and Mother would have scolded me for it if she was here.
If she was here…At the moment, she is being whisked away by those red flames.
Silver Wolf shot me a look and walked away, some of the others following him. I didn't even turn to watch him leave, the enticing dance of the flames drawing me even nearer. I suppose if I got any closer, my hair would be singed. My hair…Mother wanted a daughter, so she made me grow my hair. And when I got it cut, she would get so angry that I would never try to do that again.
I never did.
The embers slowly died and the smoke rose up to the heavens, twisting and curling as it reached the stars. But I wasn't there to see it die. I had already gone back to my mother's tent.
(O)
It was still there, I thought as I clutched the blanket tightly, the headband. She had made me a new one, a black one, which was odd because we Sacaens avoid the colour black. The colour of thieves, it is said to be. I couldn't care less. I removed my old headband (the blue one which is literally falling apart and I had to keep clipping it back). I hesitated for a second before pinning the new black headband across my forehead and I looked at the bed.
I touched it softly. It was made of a softer bark than I was used to. I could just imagine Mother, sitting outside her tent, deftly sewing it together. She was particularly skilled with the needle just in the sense I was deft with my sword. Then she would probably go sit on her bed, her hands fidgeting whether I would like it when I came back or not. At least, that's what happened when she made my first one.
I could feel the rebellious tears pour out of my eyes, desperate of escape. I rubbed them away.
"Look, I'm telling you I'm a friend of Guy's!" A loud voice shouted angrily.
I jolted from my position on the bed and immediately (out of instinct) pulled back the tent flap to see Matthew arguing with one of the Kutolah, who was blocking his way.
"M-Matthew!" I shouted. Matthew jerked at the sound of my voice and smirked to the Kutolah, "See? He knows me, so there!"
The other Kutolah just grumbled, but let Matthew proceed forward. I covered my mouth as I saw the Kutolah stick his tongue out at Matthew before walking off.
"Guy! Where have you been? You've got half of the camp worried sick over you!" Matthew snarled, "Why did you delay? We can't stay here forever you know."
"I'm sorry," And by the sudden exhaling of breath, he was taken back by my apology. I didn't apologize much, especially to Matthew, "I had family business to deal with."
His eyes were a soft shade of amber, "…Family affairs?" He echoed gently, "Your mother?"
I suddenly felt my air-pipe close and he watched me with narrowed eyes, "What happened?" His voice was rough now.
"She's…" Come on, Guy. Say the words. Say it, "She's…." Why won't I say it? I need to say it…
"Dead?" Matthew said, startling me, and waved off my stunned look, "I assumed, lucky guess," He said quietly, but I knew it was more than just that.
I didn't even nod, couldn't nod, that would admit it, admit that she's…
I won't. I won't. I…can't.
"Come on Guy," Matthew said quietly, "We should head back to camp."
I nodded to that and I let him grasp my hand as he led me away.
"Matthew, I…," Is this how he felt when Leila was killed? Maybe I should admit it. Maybe that would make things easier. Maybe I could tell him…
"Hey Guy?" Matthew said softly before looking at me. There was no pity, no sympathy in his eyes. And I could see my Mother in them; that cheerfulness, the indestructibility. She never really left after all.
"Yeah?" I said, my voice almost quiet, but not quite as broken as it was before.
"Nice headband."
(O)(O)(O)
A/N: Okay, so I didn't exactly use the word 'innocence' but I felt how Guy felt over his mother's death; the denial, was a form of innocence. He simply couldn't accept it at all. Most Guy-centric this turned out to be and I didn't stuff so much romance in it like last time. Oh well. If it doesn't live up to your expectations, then I'll write another one, k?
(1) I have no clue what Guy's eye colour is. Maybe if I squint at the GBA hard enough, I'll figure it out. 'Till then, pure imagination on my part (though I could have picked a better colour then green)
(2) I think Hagar was the one who founded Sacae. I think. I'll check that.
