Yes, yes I know…Steiner wasn't in Burmecia. Let's just pretend he was
The Rose of May… they called her The Rose of May.
She had always been his rival, his constant competitor. Every time he had accomplished something, she was always a step ahead of him (or, more often, two). They had fought, they had quarreled, they had silently competed for Her Majesty's favour, and yet the moment she drew her sword with the intention of battle, his heart nearly stopped with surprise.
"Beatrix!" Steiner shouted as she backed him into a corner, chest pounding, blade drawn "You know not what you do! Have we come so far apart in these days that you wish for my blood to be on your hands?"
"I wish only to serve my kingdom!" she cried, thrusting her sword downward at the "traitor," only to miss him by an inch "What I do to you is no credit to my guilt! You have abandoned us! You have chosen to allow these thieves to take our princess away! It is your folly, Steiner, not mine!"
She once again thrust her sword at him, barely scathing his armor.
Though terrified, Steiner noted that the swordstress' aim was off. Was it on purpose?
"Beatrix, please…!" he cried as he once again avoided her blade "I am only doing my sworn duty! If I have betrayed anything in doing this, it has not been my country!"
She pushed him to the ground and placed the edge of her sword against his exposed throat.
"Ha! Are you so far into their world that you can't tell what is right or wrong anymore?" she asked, looking down at him with disgust.
"I could ask the same of you."
Slowly, her cocky smile faded and she released the hilt of her sword.
"Go..." She muttered, quietly "Go! And let me never see your face again, or I guarantee it shall be the last time anyone does!"
For a moment they were both still, their eyes locked into each other's- Steiner's filled with pity and confusion, Beatrix's filled with anger.
Slowly, cautiously, Steiner pulled himself up and began to walk away.
"You're better than this…" he muttered, as he disappeared into the rain "…don't let your pride keep you from seeing the truth."
She watched as the wounded knight retreated and shook her head, catching a glimpse of her reflection in her sword.
What does he know?
She wiped her blade on the water-laden pavement of Burmecia and watched as the rain ran red.
It was some time before Steiner could comprehend what had happened.
As he sat, hidden in the Burmecian rubble like a coward, he clumsily tried to bandage his few scrapes, whilst listening for a sign of the others.
The loneliness was gnawing, and every minute of silence made his heart sink deeper and deeper.
Patter, patter, patter, patter, tick tock, tick tock
Blinded by the heavy rain, he could not see –could not search- and though he tried hard not to think about it, he began to fear that Beatrix's sword had met friendly flesh.
"Blast it!" he cried as he dropped his makeshift bandage for what was probably the tenth time.
Wincing, he thought of Beatrix –no, the general- as she came after him with that same blood-lust she had reserved for those vile enough to challenge the throne "She was mad…" he spoke aloud "Absolutely mad!"
He shook his head as he snatched up his bandage.
I don't understand it!
He tried to tighten the thing.
I always knew of her reputation, but it never seemed real to me…
To Steiner, who had only seen Beatrix as she was in the castle –snarky, competitive, but decent- her transformation had seemed un-fathomable. How could she have turned on him? It's true they've had their differences, but he had never once thought of raising his sword to her- unless in some kind of ceremony of the guard.
He shook his clumsy head once more. None of it added up at all.
Beatrix is intelligent he admitted so how could she have been so easily deceived? …would I have been as corrupt if I had stayed in Alexandria?
His world was coming apart at the seams. What had become of his beloved kingdom? And what had become of his beloved Queen- how could she have granted the use of such deadly weapons…how could she have attacked Burmecia and caused so much suffering…how could she have exploited and treated her own general like a worthless, bloodthirsty puppet?
As a great gust of wind swept through the ruined streets, Steiner risked a peak at the outside world from beneath his protective rubble.
The seeds of suspicion freshly planted into the very core of his being, he watched as the Alexandrian fleet took off, carrying with it, the withering Rose of May.
