Hinc Illae Lacrimae : Hence These Tears
by Capella A. Morningside
Standard disclaimers apply.
Summary: The infamous scene at Fort Dragonia once again re-told... with a more morbid twist. Complete.
Author's Note: Wow, I didn't think this would end up being this long. Anyway, I struggled with it at some points because I was busy having arachnophobia and staring at a spider on my wall... o.o; Maybe I'll redo it later. And sorry about the end, I got weird.
He used to think that it only happened in dreams, and it is no doubt that it is a surreal sensation to watch your body from afar, yet have no conscious control over what it is doing. The feeling turned sour. A glance at what used to be his own hands told him otherwise; massive, clawed fingers covered in fur replacing the smallish hands he's used to. A wiggle of his finger, one of the curved claws moved in response. His own body from across the vertically spacious room, free of his control, fell to its knees like a marionette cast aside by the puppeteer.
"Serge! What's wrong?"
The mind of Serge had almost forgotten the presence of the two others in the room. Kid went to her knees beside the indigo-haired teenager, gloved hands touching his shoulders gently and a look of concern etched on her face. But that expression quickly changed; one of hatred struck across her in a flash as she turned to the massive demi-human facing them. "Lynx! What have you done to Serge?"
That's a damned good question, Serge's mind asked, clenching and unclenching Lynx's strong hands around the crooked handle of the heavy scythe. The vocal cords of this new body refused to cooperate, however, when he attempted to protest, resulting in a rather disdainful-sounding growling noise.
"Serge! Are you alright?" Came another voice; this time it was of the blonde knight, Glenn. His expression mirrored Kid's, at least, in the deathly glares he shot whom he still thought to be Lynx. Glenn's hand was tight around the hilt of his silver sword, not yet drawing it, but he looked ready to do so at any moment. 'Lynx' drew in a deep gasp, for his former body was rising from the ground again.
With grace unexpected from one in a body not his own, 'Serge' came to a smooth stand. Eyes narrowed, lip curled into a smirk that boasted unusual confidence, and the true Serge could only watch helplessly as his body spoke without his own command.
"Yes... I'm fine... I'm just fine, Glenn."
All three were standing now, all eyes were on Serge, and the former teenage boy thought he would collapse under their accusing stares. He knew exactly what Kid and Glenn were thinking: the two of them were treating this as a standoff. They were making direct eye contact, waiting, tense, their hands tight on their weapons and waiting for any change of motion or emotion. He knew they could sense his fear; and he knew it confused them, but the hardened fighters hid it well. Afraid to make any sudden movements, Serge shook his head in a drawn-out, cautious motion, letting the scythe in his clawed hands lower slightly.
He didn't want to fight them, and if it came down to it, he would refuse to fight back. His quick mind was calculating, brainstorming, trying to figure out some way he could tell them that the boy standing betwixt them was no longer Serge, some way he could show them they were side by side with their enemy. But their postures didn't alter one bit, and Serge knew in his mind he'd failed. Removing his gaze from the two, he looked helplessly into his own eyes, and Lynx stared back with superiority, mocking him, and spoke.
"What are you doing, Lynx?" the voice of course was Serge's own, but the tone so cold but confident that it seemed to produce a miniature shockwave, a wavering in the certainty of his companions. Lynx narrowed his eyes, ever quick to cover for himself with a distraction. "Now's your chance, Kid! Kill him!" He cried out.
"Yea, I know," Kid responded, her sapphire eyes going back to her mistaken enemy. Clearing her throat, and looking to be sure her friends were at the ready, Lynx holding to Serge's swallow and Glenn drawing his silver sword, she stepped forward.
"This is the end of you, Lynx! Say yer prayers!"
Serge barely had time to hoist the scythe onto his shoulder, in a mocking manner of Lynx's own style, before Kid lunged at him. Sidestepping right, he dodged one blow, ducked to avoid another, and backed away a few steps. Again he shook his head, trying to signal that he wouldn't fight, but shortly after he was forced to nearly throw himself to the ground to avoid an AeroSaucer from Lynx.
Rising again, he found himself face-to-face with the ever-smirking Lynx, and he lifted the scythe in a clumsy manner. Trying to manage the strange crooked handle in two hands, Serge blocked a downward blow from his own swallow, barely avoided a horizontal swipe from the body-snatcher, and tried to swing the heavy weapon along the ground to take Lynx's feet out from underneath him. Lynx, however, now in a much more agile body, leaped backwards, and swiftly calling upon his energy, unleashed a PhotonRay at his vulnerable opponent.
The Element connected, and Serge couldn't recall a PhotonRay ever causing him quite this much pain. I should have remembered, he recalled. Lynx is a Black Innate. Anything white they throw at me is going to pack a punch now. Reeling, he brought the scythe back to his shoulder again, backing up another set of steps and looking as ready as he could to defend himself.
Kid was after him again, calling up a MagmaBomb. Fire scorched through the air, a rather large chunk of flame heading for him at a high speed. Serge attempted to step to one side, but in half a second already felt the burning creeping up the lower part of his left leg, singing the fur that covered his entire body. He leaned down to pat at it, but soon enough realized the Element was only part of a diversion; through the wisps of smoke Serge recognized the familiar form of Glenn rushing at him, sword in hand and ferocity in his sky blue eyes.
The scythe was off his shoulder again, blocking a blow strong enough that Serge marveled that the handle held together. Using the heavy weapon much like a quarter staff, he continued to block each strike, but Glenn was unrelenting, raining down blow after blow upon the other without mercy. Frustrated, the knight attempted to thrust the blade into his opponent's ribcage. Serge however, growing more accustomed to the new body he'd been forced into, sidestepped and brought the blade itself down upon Glenn's sword in a successful parry, nearly knocking it from the blonde's grasp. Finally, his mind giving a short plea for forgiveness, Serge dealt man a swift punch to the stomach.
Glenn reeled backwards, one hand over his abdomen and the other still clenching his sword. Serge returned to his defensive position, holding the scythe now much more like he used to hold his swallow, with the large blade angled towards the ground, and it was only a moment before the well-trained dragoon recuperated and attacked again.
The blonde knight lunged forward, landing another blow on the handle that had been meant for Serge's shoulder, and gave a growl of frustration. Taking his sword into both hands, Glenn's eyes met with his thought-to-be enemy's, before he darted forward at Serge's ribcage again. Thinking Glenn was attempting the same move as before, Serge sidestepped, raising the scythe swiftly to repeat his parry. But the attack was a feign, and at the last minute, Glenn let go of the sword with his left, extended the weapon right, and swung it towards Serge in a horizontal slash. Serge, in a sudden panic at the change, couldn't stop the momentum of the heavy scythe as it swung upwards and forward...
Both froze.
But it was a half-second too late.
The scythe had torn through cloth, bronze armor, and flesh, all in one fatal swoop. Gasping, this very reaction making another feral noise, Serge's hands trembled on the handle of the weapon, feeling its weight drastically increase. The mythril sword clattered to the ground noisily against the glowing stone floor, the six dragonian statues looking on.
Glenn, free of his former shock, gritted his teeth, free hands now cautiously traveling where his gaze dared not wander; to the source of that slicing pain. Slowly, ever slowly, his glove closed on the steel, now warmed with his own blood, and his fears were confirmed. He let his eyes look up to his enemy, expecting to see his demise being celebrated within the gaze of the tall demi-human. But when he only saw fear and distress...
"S... Serge-e?" he whispered.
A scream sounded out from across the room, and before Serge could confirm, he released the scythe in alarm. The sudden added weight dragged Glenn to his knees, splashing in the pool of blood that had already gathered beneath him.
Kid was staring at the ground, breath coming heavily, hands in her blonde hair and pulling at it in despondency. "Lynx!" she bellowed. "I swore I'd never see ya kill again! I'm gonna kick your arse all the way ta hell!"
"Wait," came Serge's voice, under Lynx's tone. He took ahold of Kid's forearm, stopping her in her sudden charge. "Kid, you're blinded by emotion. Here, give me your dagger." Her chest still heaving, Kid was powerless to stop Lynx as he snatched her bronze dagger from her hand, the thief's entire body trembling with barely-controlled rage. Lynx transferred the swallow to his left hand, approaching the stunned Serge at a steady walk.
"Tsk, tsk," he said coolly. "Look what you've done... Lynx. First the General... now..." Serge shook his head violently, glancing back and forth from the true Lynx to the fallen dragoon.
Glenn, no longer able to support his weight, began to fall forward, only stopping himself with his gore-slickened glove. Vision blurring, the knight forced himself to fall on his side, the long ends of his white headband trailing behind him as he fell. Common sense told him that falling onto the weapon buried in his body would only make it worse. Why do I care, he thought. This is it... I can sense it. If only...
...if only I had been as good as Dario.
Serge took to one knee, his mind racked with guilt. He wanted nothing more than to speak at that moment, to hold Glenn during what was most likely going to be his last hour and beg for forgiveness. To tell him that he had been the courageous warrior he'd always dreamed of being. To reassure him that someone in his life had looked up to him, rather than looking down on him as the second-best sibling...
"Here, Kid, I'll avenge Lucca for you." Lynx raised the dagger, and Serge, looked up to him, forlorn, beyond resistance. "Die, Lynx!"
"...wait!"
Lynx turned, the dagger only lowering a fraction. "What's the matter? He's your foe, isn't he?"
The blonde approached slowly, her eyes narrowing. "Serge, I never once told you Lucca's name. So how did you know?"
He didn't answer.
Kid inspected the face of her companion for a moment. "Wait a minute, don't tell me you're..."
She never finished the statement. In a move quicker than even Serge could follow, Lynx darted at the girl and thrust her own weapon into her side violently. Kid cried out, softly, as the blade was just as quickly removed from her body, and Serge powerlessly watched her fall a mere couple of meters from Glenn.
"You're-e Lynx... a-ain't ya?" came her breathy voice.
"I'll finish you off later," Lynx replied, throwing Kid's beloved dagger aside, and turning to his nemesis. "Look at yourself, Serge..." a smirk. "I mean, Lynx!"
Serge was silent, his head lowered, clawed hands tight in the flowing black robes. He half-hoped that Lynx would have the mercy to put him out of his misery...
"I should just leave you here to rot in your guilt and die. But I won't... I have need of you alive, Sergey."
Damn.
"But first, I think this looks a bit too much like my handiwork..."
Glenn let out a cry of surprise and agony as he felt the blade through his body suddenly be torn free, the dripping scythe returned to its owner's hand. Serge, still helpless, only covered his cat-like face with his hands at the sight, quivering with anger but finding himself unable to react. How damned weak I am. A worthless fisherman, who shouldn't even be alive. And now I can't save my friends, I even killed one myself.
"This is yours, isn't it?"
Serge glanced up and behind him, to see Lynx inspecting the silver swallow.
"It's nice. A fine piece of craftsmanship, if I may say so. A bit light for my taste, but it's probably perfect to you. Is it made of mythril?"
No reply.
"Of course it is," Lynx went on. "But don't you think it needs a little more ornamentation?" The former demi-human paced towards Serge again. "You're probably wanting this back now, but... I want to make sure you don't ever forget this fine evening we've all spent together."
Serge only growled; this time on purpose.
"Besides, it seems your little crush isn't dying as quickly as he should be."
That caught Serge's attention. Ignoring the greater weight of his body, he jumped to his feet, putting himself between Lynx and his friend as quickly as he could manage, a deep growl rumbling in his feline throat. Not that it did him any good. Lynx, far more powerful than his still-awkward opponent, took Serge roughly by the black robes and threw him aside with the ease of one discarding a towel.
"Out of my way!" Lynx ordered, watching as Serge hit the stone with a distinct thud. He stepped forward, towering over the fallen knight like a buzzard over a dying animal. Glenn glared up in defiance.
"A fighter to the end, are you?" He shook his head. "Dragoons are so barbaric, sometimes. At least now..." Lynx raised the swallow perpendicular to the ground, letting the tip rest gently just below the man's chin. "...there will be one less of you to deal with."
Serge did not see the blow that ended Glenn's life, but only heard the nauseating sound of the swallow jabbing into the knight's throat.
There it was, that wave of guilt and anger again, and a blind rush at his doppelganger only landed him on the floor once more, the now bloody swallow tossed in his general direction. Satisfied with his work now, or so it seemed, Lynx walked past his enemy as calmly as one taking a stroll in the countryside and snatched the Dragon Tear from its stand. "Finally, I have the key. The key to the gate of Fate! The time has finally come for the Frozen Flame to awaken!"
Moving along on all fours, Serge scrambled over to the bodies of his fallen comrades. But just as Kid was within his reach, her form faded and vanished from sight.
"No, no," Lynx scolded. "I have use of this one, too. Oh don't worry Serge... you'll see her again."
You leave her alone, bastard... Serge wanted to say, but this, as anything he attempted to utter, only resulted in the low growlings of a feline demi-human.
Lynx let his feet leave the ground, levitating just inches from the floor, and began to concentrate, muttering something under his breath. Soon enough, the Dragon Tear responded, the light that naturally emanated from the blue jewel growing, growing, until it lit up the entire room as brightly as sunlight... and shattered like a dropped vase, the glittering shards scattering and descending like snow. The statues followed suit, bursting as if they were filled with explosive, one after another. Serge lay completely on the ground, covering his head with his hands as chunks of stone fell all about him.
"Now, let love bleed!" Lynx cried, dark energy beginning to swirl about him. Serge's world started to fade, his body felt as if it were being pulled. "Darker and deeper than the seas of Hell!"
Whose life do I now lead? Whose blood do I shed? Turn the pages of the story and set them on fire...
When I have nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, I'm supposed to walk away from here. No light. It's not the end, for me...
Moments, lost. Time remains... eternity awaits thee.