Chapter Two
Fayt
He recalled the first night he had spent in Arias. 'He was in Aquaria territory', he had been reassured. Safe haven. He could rest easy, they had told him. Yet as he had lay in the bed they had made up for him, he could scarcely remember a night he had felt more miserable. His time in the dungeons under Airyglyph Castle had not been fun by any means, but there had been no patina of security there either, no reassurances that the worst was over, no people around him who had acted as if all was right with the world, that he should be satisfied, that he had no right to feel unhappy. He had gotten to safety, but the safety had been so empty. His father, his mother, Sophia…they were all still millions of miles away, and he was alone. Alone on a planet in the middle of nowhere, with little hope of getting off. A planet full of violent, barbaric inhabitants who wanted to wring the secrets out of his head and use them to build killing machines. Cliff had been with him then, but at that time, he had only known the man for a week, and he was little comfort against a planet full of people threatening to kill him if he failed to do what they asked. Fayt clearly remembered thinking of how he would have literally given an arm and a leg to get off this planet, to leave and never be forced to see it or hear of it again.
Since then, even before he had even left the planet for the first time, his opinion of the place had greatly changed. He had learned that there was something inherently good about the people here that had not necessarily been so about the people of Earth. He had grown greatly fond of the planet during his time here, though he never truly knew why. It had started out as the most wretched place he had ever known, but eventually it had become almost like a second home.
And now he was back.
Peterny was a massive spread against the sky from far away, its marble retaining walls reaching more than thirty feet into the air. It was an apt first sight for him, and a stark contrast to the gleaming metal shells and cylinders that had greeted him on Cratous, on his return to 'civilized' habitation. The city looked like a fairly formidable fortress, like the ones he had seen in history books back in school, but in actuality it wasn't. The walls were thick, but the walkways on them hung too far out to be of any use against besiegers, meaning that they could not be defended if the city was attacked, and as such were basically nothing but decoration.
The city within seemed busy, even busier than he remembered it. His first impression upon passing under the walls was that the crowds had come out for some sort of parade, or celebration - how else could you explain all the people thronging the streets- but that notion didn't take long to dispel. Though the people were quite active, they did not seem to be in any particular fervor, as they might have been if they were waiting for something. Within fifteen minutes, he had deduced from listening to people talk that there was no festival, no parade, no celebration of any sort. This was just an ordinary day for the people here. Silently, as he weaved his way through the sea of bustling bodies, he wondered where they had all come from. Although the crowd was slightly irritating, it did wonders at keeping him from being recognized; with so many people mulling about, no one gave him a second look. And for that, he was glad.
Nearly a half hour down the city's main western road - it might have taken only half that long had he not needed to fight the crowd for every step he took - just outside of the town square, he came to the Front Door Inn. The woman at the front desk did recognize him, but she did not act as if his being there was all that unusual. Fayt had been slightly worried that his claim to one of the perpetually reserved V.I.P. rooms that the Inn kept open would no longer be valid, since he no longer had any sort of business in Aquaria, but his worry turned out to be needless. All he had to do was pay for the room, and he was allowed into it with such alacrity that it was almost as if they had been expecting him from the start.
In his room, with the door shut, he immediately went to his window and looked out. He was not actually sure why; all he could really see were the crowds clogging the streets. The same crowd he had been a part of only a few minutes before. He had a vague thought to question what would happen on that street if a fire broke out, but it was not an especially powerful one. The foremost thought in his head was:
I'm here. and then:
But what do I do now?
And Fayt couldn't answer that question. He liked this place, but what was he supposed to do? Obviously, visiting friends was pretty high on the list, but how was he supposed to go about doing that? Just show up at their doorstep? He didn't think any of them would turn him away, but…he would feel so stupid doing something like that. In every scenario that he dreamed up in his head, he ended up seeing himself as a burden, seeing himself as that annoying neighbor that everyone has, who shows up at all the most inopportune times and then won't go away. Nel and Albel and Adray (among others) all had important jobs. What would he be getting in the way of by bothering them? What would he be getting in the way of by merely being seen near one of the castles?
He let out a sigh, perplexed. It was so hard.
Had he simply stopped here, gotten off with the Elicoorians, had he not left again for somewhere else, it might not be a problem. To be sure, while he hadn't absolutely and specifically decided on Elicoor at that time, he had known even then that the visit to see his mother wouldn't be a long one. The thought of returning to his old life - or at least as near a facsimile as they could make of it at this point - seemed almost out of the question. Not that it had been bad, by any means. It had been fine, and he loved his mother, his old college friends, dribbling days away in the Battle Simulators. He had loved all of it. It just felt…too small for him now. Sophia hadn't had a problem going back to the simple life, but then again, she had never been in the struggle by choice in the first place. Through most of it, she had merely been following him.
At any rate, he hadn't stopped here. He had left, and now he was back. And that changed things entirely.
Fayt ended up spending the rest of the day in his room, without ever coming out. He did the same the next day as well, for lack of any better ideas. On the third day though, he decided to venture into town. It was clear that nothing was going to come to him in his room; perhaps something would out in the open air. Maybe he would find something out.
He passed beneath the massive stone arch leading to the town square shortly after dawn, yet the place was already alive. Not as alive as it would be of course, come the afternoon, but still busy enough for him to walk through the place without being conspicuous. The food stands in the southernmost area of the square were already fully active, their makeshift stoves and ovens steaming, and the tables near them already nearly filled to capacity with people enjoying their breakfasts. The northern part of the square, where most of the trinkets and wares and concoctions that made the city famous were sold, was much less populated, looking almost deserted in comparison with only a few stocky Menodix peddlers hawking their merchandise, so he drifted toward the dining area. In order to avoid looking out of place, he bought some sort of vaguely sausage-looking thing - his scanner interpreted the word for it as sausage, but he was not actually sure that that was what it was - from a wizened old woman in a booth close to the church, and then sat down at an empty table. He didn't truly know what it was he was looking for here (What solution am I supposed to find in a food court? was a thought he had more than once), but already it was better than the hotel room. The air out here was nice…if not a bit smoky, with all the cookfires going. Better than the recycled stuff he had breathed on Earth and on Cratous at least, if nothing else. He sat back in the chair he was in, relaxing, trying to sort of melt into the scenery, become more part of it and less an observer, and he began to overhear words and sounds he had been deaf to immediately as he did.
Bells. The sound of bells coming from somewhere. And music being played on one of the nearby streets. And a man in the northern area of the square loudly telling all and sundry about a magical amulet that would protect them from any danger, an amulet that he just happened to be willing to sell for a very reasonable price. And…
And someone was coming up behind him.
He bolted to his feet, his right hand instinctively shooting behind his back for a sword that wasn't there. He had left it at the desk in the Inn, he remembered with irritation. Not that it mattered; already he could see that the person approaching him would not require a sword to deal with. It was only a waitress carrying a tray full of drinks. She flinched as he turned around, and nearly dropped the platter she held, but she managed to recover quickly enough to keep all but a bit of one glass from spilling. Fayt muttered an apology to her (three apologies, actually), took the partially spilled drink, and sat back down sullenly.
He was tense, he realized. Wound up. Or perhaps paranoid. Though he had not become conscious of it until now, he had felt this way since he had first entered the city. He hadn't realized it before, because he had had too much on his mind, but now the feeling was clear. It wasn't strong – but it was clear. And it was the feeling that he was being watched. The feeling that he was being followed. He looked around quickly as that thought came into his mind, but of course, there was no one around that he could see who visibly seemed to be watching him. Not that that made him feel any better. It wouldn't be very hard for someone to hide from him in a place like this. There could be a dozen of them and he would never know it.
Of course, that would mean assuming that someone out there cared enough to detail a dozen people to spy on him. And even thinking that just seemed a bit egotistical. It was probably just paranoia. In fact, it was almost surely just paranoia.
Fayt ended up staying in the food court for another half hour or so, before he finally picked up and left, leaving a few Fol on the table he had sat at (he had never actually found out whether or not the concept of 'tipping' existed on Elicoor, but he figured it was the least he could do for that incident with the drinks, even if it didn't) prior to returning to the Inn. He ended up leaving once more to roam the city, and for awhile entertained the notion of starting out for Aquios that afternoon, but evening found him back at the Inn again nonetheless. He was loathe to spend another night there – the place was eating through what little Elicoorian currency he had, and if truth be told, he was getting tired of it – but the idea of trying to leave at night was not very appealing. At any time. And it was even less so with the persisting feelings of anxiety he was suffering every time he went outside.
The next morning, divested of any lingering desire to remain in Peterny for a single moment longer by yet another expensive stay at the Front Door, he went to the market as early as he could, and bought all the supplies he figured he would need for the trip. His sense of perspective had perhaps been a bit skewed – he had never made the trip alone before, but he still bought enough for roughly four people, even being fully aware that there were at least two more towns along the road that he could stop at – but he managed to pass it off to himself as simply being 'careful'.
An hour after leaving his room, he was on the main northern street of Peterny, headed toward the town's exit. The streets were congested with people again, which meant another game of dodge for him as he tried to pick his way through them. He had found out in his time in town that much of the new crowd was due to the renewed relations with Airyglyph, which was a bit on the gratifying side for him in a roundabout way, but that didn't make it any less annoying to deal with.
On further inspection, the northern street seemed a lot more orderly than the others had been even with the tide of people on it; the stalls were all forced to the sides of the road, away from the center where they cluttered things up the worst. Walking was still difficult, but it was easier.
Fayt squeezed past a horde of people crowded around a garishly colored booth on the right side of the street, passing one of the sets of standing stone obelisks that had been set into the cobbles, effectively marking the halfway point from the town square to the northern exit of the city. Easier, he thought, but no less loud. Being on any large street in Peterny now was like being in a huge auditorium crowded with people who would simply not shut up.
As such, he was not exactly sure how he heard it. He could barely even hear his own thoughts, so hearing anyone else should have been utterly impossible. But somehow he did. The voice was not only audible but clear, clear as a bell ringing in the middle of a silent, deserted churchyard, and it came from behind him.
"And where do you think you're going?" It said simply, tersely.
Fayt's first thought was: 'Albel?', because the curt simplicity of it sounded just like him, but he had deduced even before beginning to turn around that it wasn't Albel. When he finally did turn, he saw her, leaning casually against one of the pillars.
"Nel?" He said in surprise. Her face seemed to change as he did, to soften slightly, as if she had been somehow worried that he would no longer know who she was. He wondered for a moment, then took a double take, noticed her gaunt features and puffy red eyes, and before he could stop himself, blurted: "Wow, you look terrible."
Her face hardened again, making him inwardly grimace at his own eloquence.
"No, no, I didn't mean it that way." He said quickly. "I just meant…you're…you look tired is all."
She said nothing for some time; just stared at him, her eyes stabbing like knives. Fayt became afraid that she was going to stay like that forever, but finally, she straightened up and responded.
"Clair says so too."
He thought it might be good to remain prudently silent for awhile, but he was eager to change the subject.
"How did you find me anyway?" He asked. The question itself was genuine – it seemed unlikely that this could be a coincidence, and he had not been here that long – but he added much more curiosity to his voice than he actually felt when he asked it. If he could get her mind off of that little remark…
She smiled a little at the question, her face taking on a look of vague bemusement. "My agents found you. Or did you really think you could stay at the Inn that I showed you without me finding out about it?"
He took the opportunity for distraction.
"You mean you have someone working for you there?"
Nel took a few moments playing absently with the ends of her scarf.
"Not in the Inn." She answered. The answer was curt and matter-of-fact, but Nel was always that way, so it gave him a bit of hope. "But I have a cook in the guild across the street who watches the Inn, if that makes any difference." Her eyes spared a quick, casual sweep of the surroundings as she said that, to make sure no one else was within earshot. Then they fixed on him again, her arms uncrossed and went to her hips. "Actually, the gate guards were the ones who sent word of you to the castle first. Everyone agreed that you should be brought to Aquios, but Clair and Magistrate Lasselle thought you would come straight there on your own, so no one was ordered to escort you."
Brought to Aquios. He thought. That was a nice way of saying it. It left out the underlying implication: Whether you like it or not. Fayt reflected that it had not taken long at all for him to stir things up, though he had no idea what the problem could be now.
"Then why are you here?"
Nel shrugged. "To escort you to Aquios, of course. Just…unofficially."
"Why do I need to be brought to Aquios anyway?" He said, feigning discomfiture.
"Because you're in danger if you stay here." She answered. "Don't think that we're the only ones who know you're back. If we've found out, you can be sure that certain people in this city have found out too. And I don't know how they'll take to your being here right now."
"You mean there's a problem?"
"You might say that. I have an agent here in Peterny investigating, and by the way she talks, you would think the world was ending." Nel smirked. "She told me she wanted to ask you to help her fix it."
Fayt couldn't help but smile at that.
All at once, Nel's smile was gone, and she was all business again. "But she didn't. And that's lucky for us. She would have blown her cover, and you wouldn't have been able to help her anyway."
"Thanks."
"That wasn't a shot at your abilities." She cocked her head. "You of all people should know that. It's just…you don't know how big your reputation has become here. She wouldn't have been asking for your help. She would have been asking for help from Ronaldo Dyne the Second."
"I'm that great, huh?"
"If you don't believe me, just listen to some of the stories about you. I can guarantee you'll hear some of them if you plan on staying for any length of time." He got the feeling she was on the verge of asking 'Do you?', but she merely shifted and then continued. "But that's for later, and it's beside the point. Right now, I want you out of this city. I don't like the idea of standing out here in the open like this. Someone is bound to recognize us."
Fayt didn't actually think that would be an issue – they were hidden by the obelisk on two sides, and by stalls on another – but he did not want to cause her any unnecessary trouble by trying to debate that with her. Arguing with a determined Nel was much like arguing with a particularly thick wall, he had found; not really worth the trouble, since you weren't going to get anywhere anyway. And with her in the state she was in, it would likely be even worse.
The state she's in. That was a bitter spot for him. She looked exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted. The first conclusion he had come to was that it was entirely his fault that she was like this – that her coming here to see him was what had done this to her. But after a few more looks, it was plain that it wasn't. The delicate purple on her eyelids was too deeply set to have been recent, and she could not have worked up the haggardness in her features since he had been here if she had known the very moment he arrived. But that only made him feel worse: she had come from Aquios to see him. Already in a bad condition. It made him feel terrible, as a matter of fact. It made him feel like exactly what he had seen himself as in all the daydreams he had had:
A burden.
Nel did not know why he insisted on being coy.
'Why do I need to go to Aquios anyway?' He had said in tones that suggested it was some sort of terrible inconvenience for him. Yet he had been on the northern road when she had found him; on the road leading to Aquios. And since she didn't figure he knew of anywhere else to go along the way, where else could he have been going? It confused her. But like most trivial things that did that, she merely let it go. Perhaps it was some sort of custom on his home planet, and circumstances had simply been preventing him from practicing it until now. She didn't know. And really, it didn't matter.
In truth, it was enough to simply see him here. Like Clair and Lasselle, she had believed he would come straight to Aquios without delay, so when she had set out, it had been with the intention of meeting him on the road. But she hadn't, and that had put her on edge. In all the villages she passed through on the way, her inquiries had turned up nothing. No one had seen him at all, even in passing. And the closer she came to Peterny, the more her worry intensified. Because no village had seen him, and she found it hard to believe that he could have come through them all without being noticed. It had eventually led her to darker thoughts. Scary thoughts. Had he been kidnapped? Had he gotten lost in the wilderness? Had he left the planet again?
Was he dead?
She had tried to tell herself that she was merely being paranoid. Fayt was strong. Gifted. As capable of handling himself as anyone she had ever met. But he was also rash, wasn't he? Apt to stick his nose into places where it didn't belong at the drop of a hat. And with the problems in Peterny, there were plenty of such places, weren't there? In the end, fear had overcome reason, and the worry eventually became like some great, terrible cavity in her brain that pulsed and throbbed with every step, every heartbeat.
The worry had grown so strong in fact, that by the time she got to Peterny it had become a certainty, and she had already been planning how she would take revenge on whoever had done it. She had arranged a clandestine meeting with Serafelle to ascertain how he had died, and to her surprise the young woman had told her that Fayt was fine; that he had been in the city the entire time, and that he had actually been staying in the very same Inn Nel had taken him to on his first visit here. The woman who handled registrations at the Front Door had given him the room that Nel herself would have used if she had gone there, because she had apparently been under the impression that Fayt was still working for the Queen. By the time Sera had finished giving her the details about him, she had been so inwardly humiliated at her own childishness that she had wanted little more than to go dig a really deep hole and crawl into it for a couple of years. She had gotten over it quickly of course – she had not shared her thoughts with anyone else, and it was neither the first nor the worst time she had given into paranoia. After asking after the state of affairs with the merchants, which was done mainly to dispel any thoughts in her subordinate's head that Fayt was actually the reason she had come here, since she was still technically on leave, she had departed.
It made her feel strangely mollified to learn that he was operating here on Elicoor in what was essentially the way he had learned from her. It also irritated her considerably that he was still in the city, both because it was dangerous, and because…well, because. What's in Peterny that's so special? She had thought at one point, a trifle more crossly than she had a right to.
Most of all though, it made her feel relieved. Relieved to hear that he was alright. That he hadn't gotten himself killed like the impulsive little monster he was. She had been on her way to the Inn to see him, perhaps to even surprise him if a choice opportunity happened to present itself, when she had seen him coming up the street toward her. At first she had thought that he was actually coming toward her, and she wondered how he had known she was here, before it struck her that this was the main northern road; the road that led to Aquios. She did not know what had possessed her to hide behind the obelisk and wait for him to pass, but she wished she could have come up with a more rousing greeting for him. 'And where do you think you're going?' seemed so uninspired that it almost hurt to say it. It rankled her terribly that she could still not bring herself to put more feeling into the welcome, even with that infernal goodbye from the Diplo hanging over her head, but no amount of chiding could make her greet him any other way. Maybe if the situation had been different, she told herself, she might have said something a little better – or less callous, at any rate. But greeting him on the street like this with anything but the most casual of words seemed to her almost the verbal equivalent of flinging herself at him, no matter how innocent her intentions might have been.
And besides, the middle of a city that could be potentially full of turncoats – if Serafelle's reports could be believed – wasn't really the place for getting emotional anyway, was it? Though most of it had been unconscious, she had spent a lot of time in Peterny looking over her shoulder. No matter how much she reassured herself, or how many measures she took to foil any possible tails, she could not get rid of the feeling that something was breathing down the back of her neck. If she wanted to say something meaningful to him, she could always do it after they left. On the road, after her anxiety had lessened. There would always be tomorrow.
It was that night that she had the first opportunity. She had whittled away some time by telling him a few of the stories about him she had picked up from people on the streets, and she got another hour or so out of filling him in on how all the people he knew on Elicoor had been doing since he had left (though she neatly edited out the bits that might have cast her in a less than admirable light). He reciprocated by saying a few things about his family along the way, but for the most part, he left the burden of conversation to her.
Finally, they arrived at the small town of Hamelin, a tiny village roughly twelve miles from Peterny's walls. The 'Inn' in the town was really just the house of an old couple who allowed other people to use their two spare rooms in return for money, but it was the best they were going to do, and Fayt didn't complain. She rather liked the couple herself; they were amiable and they had always given her sweets when she had been small, on the occasions she had stayed in this village with her father. With all her ideas for conversation exhausted, they had lapsed into a companionable silence nearly a half-hour before, and she had expected that to endure until morning, but just as she had been ready to go into her room, he had spoken.
"Nel?" He said tentatively. He spoke so softly that she actually passed the sound off as her own breath at first. She turned around only by happenstance, and saw him outlined in the doorway to his own room, a silhouette illuminated only by the dim light of a few distant candles. He was looking at her, so she said:
"Yes?"
He was silent for some time, and she was about to say 'What is it?' when he spoke again, louder.
"It's good to see you again."
The surprise almost made her jump. A thousand things she might say ran through her head, just as they had on the street in Peterny. It struck her that this was a chance to say something decent, a chance that she didn't even have to endure the potential humiliation of instigating, as she had last time. But the same thought stopped her again.
Maybe if circumstances were different…
Nel's first instinct was to simply say 'Good night' but that would have been rude. Too rude.
"Likewise." She said at last.
And we have another chapter finished. Aside from a painful dialogue scene whose head I would still enjoy smashing between a couple of folding chairs, I came out happier with this one than I did with the ones before it, even though part of it got ERASED and I had to redo it. Of course, I can't judge my own work worth crap (I either think it's great, or that it's the worst thing ever put to 'paper', as I apparently don't understand the concept of 'in-between'), but there you have it. This is just my little ranting corner anyway. I don't really know what I'm trying to say. Bleh.
Responses:
Sankontessou: Yes, I have every intention of finishing this. I don't really know how much that means, since I don't think any author with even a shred of decency starts a story thinking HAHA I'M NOT GOING TO FINISH THIS, but I still wanted to say that. The characters (specifically Nel) seem to be helping me along here, and every other story I've written with characters who have done that has gotten finished.
Lily10: You have no idea how much it means to me to hear that. I'm paranoid about my portrayal of Nel. More paranoid about her than any other character in fact, and she's half the focus of the story. I hope I can continue to do it as well as I'd like.
Lloyd (Irving) Aurion: Yes, I sort of thought that a little bit after uploading. Beforehand however, NOTHING could convince me that the entire thing wasn't necessary. It's a weird problem I have.
Daedulas: I agree. Vanishing Point SHOULD get updated. I LOVE his portrayal of Nel. I understand time constraints though, so as long as endergabriel finishes it before I die, I won't complain too much.
Pipp: Fayt/Nel + 1 with this, hopefully. I agree with the sentiments also. There is however, one thing to be thankful of: that you're not a proponent of Fayt/Mirage. There are at least two Fayt/Nel fics around here. I defy you (or anyone eles, including me) to find one with Fayt/Mirage. Anywhere.
Broad, general statement directed at everyone: Thanks again for reviewing. I hope this didn't disappoint anyone.
Next chapter: With everyone back in Aquios, the main storyline should begin to get rolling. Also, my first attempt at an action scene. Possible Lasselle POV (joy!), though I might use someone else if it looks like I'm using too many characters.
