Random Thoughts: I love Viaresu SO MUCH...as if you didn't know that already. xD
Remember: ViaresuBierrez…and Viales/Vierres/Biaresu.
With the idea of using Bierrez to further his own purposes, Kharl resurrects the yôkai and sends him after Rath. However, Bierrez has some ideas of his own, and an unfulfilled task to complete… First Bierrez/Cesia fic on Pam t3h Spam (formerly 3 gazillion other pennames xD)
Chapter Five: Fate
"You don't understand. I have to go!"
The dragon fighter shook his head, his hands trembling slightly as he remembered how much power resided in the body of the girl standing before him. But Lord Lykouleon's orders were firm: no one was allowed in or out of the castle without his express permission.
"Argh!" Cesia threw up her hands in frustration. "This is the most stupid rule ever. What is this, the Dragon Palace or a prison? Isn't this stupid?" She shot the last question at the gate guard, who nodded his head, afraid to disagree.
"I knew it! No one likes this rule—no one at all! So why is there one like this? I'm the fortuneteller, and if I'm to do my job correctly, I need to buy a new batch of moonstones from the markets. Tell me, can anyone accurately predict the first thunderstorm without a moonstone?" The guard shook his head, completely clueless.
"But Lady Cesia...it's dangerous out there."
She whirled, eyes steely. "I am a yôkai. And a wind sorceress. I think I can handle the dangers of the city."
He shook his head. "Not this time. Sir Rath let it slip that he was fighting a yôkai right here in Draqueen—and it got away."
Cesia stared, silenced by this pronouncement. "But...he never lets yôkai get away," she whispered when she had regained her voice.
"Exactly. It must have been terribly strong, but he won't say what kind of yôkai it is. Sir Alfeegi was...very unhappy with him." A bead of sweat ran down the dragon fighter's nose as he remembered exactly how angry the White Dragon Officer had been. "Very unhappy," he repeated. "So now there's a rule about leaving the palace until the yôkai has been tracked down and killed."
"...I see," Cesia said thoughtfully. "Well, I understand now. Thanks for explaining it to me." She smiled sweetly at the guard, her face the paragon of innocence.
The guard watched her go, feeling distinctly uneasy about the situation. Somehow, Lady Cesia's quiet compliance was more upsetting than one of her tantrums.
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"Wow! These are the most perfect moonstones I've ever seen!" Cesia exclaimed, examining the smooth white rock in her hand. The milky surface was pure and unflawed, translucent enough for her to catch a glimpse of the iridescent black core within. "They're absolutely gorgeous."
"Thank you, milady." The plump storekeeper beamed at her. "They are beautiful, if I do say so myself. And exceptionally hard, too—better than steel. In fact, some people have taken to crafting weapons with these things. A blade made from moonstones is sharp and magically powerful." He winked at her. "And a bargain, too!"
Cesia smiled wryly. Every time you talk to a storekeeper for more than half a minute, they try to sell you something, she thought with a silent sigh. "No thank you."
"Are you absolutely sure?" Before she could answer, the man had ducked behind the counter and was rummaging through his wares. He straightened, a smudge of dirt on his cheek and a long, burlap-wrapped package in his hands. "This here is a sword fashioned from moonstones, steel, and opals. Perfect for the warrior mage!"
Slowly, reverently, the storekeeper untied the strings. The dirty burlap sacking fell away to reveal a smoothly curving blade of a shining silvery-white. Its serrated edge was as black as midnight, and as sharp as steel. It shone and sparkled in the half-light, and crackled and sparked with magical power in Cesia's enhanced vision. Of their own volition, her hands crept forward to touch the beautifully crafted thing.
"Uh-uh." The fat storekeeper's jolly voice broke the spell of the blade. "Only bidding buyers are allowed to touch this." His chubby fingers stroked the sword lovingly. "This thing is worth more than all my other merchandise combined!"
"That's ridiculous...how do I know if I want to buy it if I can't examine it?" Cesia snapped back.
The man raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You got a thousand gold pieces on you?" he asked, eyeing her not-too-plump money sack.
"A THOUSAND?" Cesia really hadn't meant to shout, but her voice boomed loud enough to attract the attention of the nearby customers and shopkeepers. She lowered her voice, stuttering, "You—you call a thousand gold pieces a—a bargain!"
"Sorry, milady. If you can't pay, you can't touch," he replied, beginning to wrap the sword up again. Cesia bit her lip...the sight of that beautiful thing being wrapped up in the dirt-encrusted cloth was almost too much to bear. "I just want to touch it once," she pleaded.
He was eying her suspiciously now, and when he spoke his tone was not quite as friendly. "Sorry...girl. Hey, come to think of it, you haven't paid for those moonstones in your basket yet, either." His grubby fingers left off tying the moonstone sword and reached across the counter. "That'll be 14 gold...if you have it."
"You think I'm a thief!" Cesia voice rose to a dangerously high register. "Why you fat, greedy little—" She stopped, suddenly aware of the crowd that had grown around her. Her face flushed a deep red. Slamming the basket of moonstones on the counter, she almost threw them back at the plump little man. "I'll buy these somewhere else."
As she stomped away from the counter, she could hear the storekeeper's voice rising above the crowd: "Terrible, terrible, I say...just some no-account little thief—say, my lord, would you care to buy a moonstone sword? It's fashioned from..."
Cesia almost lost it right there—she knew dozens of curses for baldness, for bad luck, for frog-spitting and gigantic warts. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that the city guards would be called and she would be hauled back up to the Dragon Palace. It had taken her too long to sneak out to risk it. She sighed, cast a venomous glare at the rotund storekeeper already showing the sword to another customer, and headed off to find another moonstone seller.
But that sword was beautiful, Cesia mused wistfully an hour later. A basket of moonstones and another smaller one of chocolate truffles (her personal weakness) lay on the bench beside her. I've never wanted anything like I want that...it was just so perfect. I could use it, too. I can fight a little, and maybe I could help protect the Dragon Palace with it if we were attacked! Maybe I should mention it to Lord Lykouleon and he would...
She gave herself a little shake. It was a ridiculous notion. The Dragon Palace's armory was stocked with thousands upon thousands of finely crafted swords, and all a lot cheaper than the one she had seen. She could easily just take one from there.
But none of the dragon swords are that beautiful...
Just then, a glimmering at the corner of her vision caught her attention. As if by magic, there in the bar across the street, sat someone with a moonstone weapon strapped to their waist. Cesia couldn't tell exactly what it was, but the milky-smooth luster of the blade not hidden under the person's long cloak was unmistakable. As in the store, Cesia was filled with an overwhelming, uncontrollable desire to stroke that glistening surface. If I could just touch it once, I could get rid of this crazy feeling. Just once...one second! That's all! I'm sure whoever that is sitting there won't mind at all.
The baskets of her purchases completely forgotten on the bench, Cesia crossed the street. At the doorway, she paused, entranced once more by the beautiful blade. She teetered there, hesitant, then made up her mind and stepped in.
"Excuse me, sir? Madam?"
The cloaked figure half-turned. In the dim light of the bar, Cesia still couldn't see the face, but she was sure now that it was male.
"Sir?" A sudden ray of sunlight shot through the window and illuminated the room, glimmering off short, burnt-orange hair.
"Please, could I..." He was turning all the way to face her now, and slipping the cloak's hood down to see better.
"...see your—" Clear orange eyes turned to her and widened.
"—sword?" she finished in a choked whisper. The face was unforgettable, unmistakable. "Viaresu?"
CLAAAAAAAAAANG.
Suddenly, Cesia was showered with a rainbow-hued waterfall of balloons, which cascaded all around and filled her vision until everything else in the bar was blocked out. She slapped several particularly large ones away, and looked up in time to get a faceful of the large white banner that flapped down. Buried in balloons, confetti, and cloth, it was nonetheless impossible to miss the booming of a loudspeaker from behind the counter.
"CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE THE 3,333RD VISITOR TO THE PIGSTY BAR AND INN!" Cheering and applause in the background. "YOU WILL NOW BE SERENADED BY THE POPULAR BAND 'THE CHINCHILLAS'—" She could hear, over the sudden cacophony of guitars and drums, familiar faint footsteps slipping by her and out of the bar. She strained to listen for the direction they turned in, but the announcer broke in again with a merciless, ear-throbbing sound. "—AND YOU WILL RECEIVE 100 GOLD'S WORTH OF FREE PIGSTY BAR AND INN MERCHANDISE!"
Huge, ham-like hands reached into the colorful pile and pulled Cesia out into the bar. She was heartily slapped on the back by the many red-faced, thick-shouldered customers and almost took another dive back into the balloons. The proprietress of the place, a wizened, stoop-shouldered old woman who looked about 80, grabbed her in a powerful bear hug that belied her age. Finally, Cesia managed to break free of her well-wishers and shouted above the general racket:
"DID ANYONE SEE WHERE THE YÔKAI SITTING HERE WENT?"
The bar immediately fell silent. Too late, Cesia realized what she had said. "I—I mean the man—who was here a minute ago," she amended, but the damage had been done. "Um, I think I'll be leaving now—thank you for the prize," she mumbled hastily, and edged toward the exit.
"Wait just one minute." The doorway was blocked by a large man...or was this really a man? He had to be at least part-ogre; from Cesia's standpoint, he seemed to loom 10 feet high. She gulped nervously.
"You said yôkai."
"She definitely said yôkai."
"Why would there be a yôkai in the Pigsty? It's a good clean place..."
"...Unless it was brought her by another yôkai."
"Exactly."
"It makes sense," the giant blocking the door grunted. "And I know I'm not a yôkai...and my mother's not a yôkai...and neither are Fayor and Jiino and Evanji and the rest of my regulars. So that leaves you, girl."
"I—I'm not a yôkai!" Cesia fingered her pointed ears. "See? I'm a member of the Dragon tribe! I live at the Palace."
Her interrogator grunted, apparently unconvinced. "Don't yôkai have pointy ears too? And if you were a Dragon...wouldn't you be wearing all those fancy silks and gold and medallions that they're always sporting? You don't look anything like Lord Lykouleon or the Queen."
This was true. In order to remain unnoticeable, Cesia had discarded the elegant gowns she wore at the palace for simpler, drabber clothes. She had wanted to pass for a human. Unfortunately, it appeared she had done that far too well. Without her fancy garments and jewelry, she looked nothing more than a simple peasant girl—or a yôkai disguised as one. There seemed to be no way to convince these people that she was really a Dragon, no way out of this ridiculous but dangerous predicament. She bit her lip hard, drawing blood.
Blood.
Of course! The Dragon Amulet... Cesia pulled it out and held it before the man blocking the door. "This the Light Dragon Amulet," she said firmly. "It proves that I'm a true Dragon."
He bent closer. "It looks like the real deal...but is it really the Light Dragon Amulet? And given to such an unimportant little girl too." The comment stung more than Cesia would have liked it too. "If you don't' believe me, touch it," she said shortly, hiding a grin.
Light flared up around the amulet, the contents glowing a deep ruby red. The gigantic man fell backwards through the open door, staring at his sizzling, smoking fingers in amazement. Cesia stepped neatly over his sprawled legs and left the bar with the puzzled and awed glances of the people inside following her.
Once out of sight, Cesia stopped by a tall tree, still grasping the Light Dragon Amulet in her hand. I barely made it out of that place alive, she thought with a shiver. Sometimes humans can be as deadly as yôkai...
Yôkai. Her thoughts immediately flashed to the previous incident. The whole memory felt surreal, from the dancing sunlight to the dim bar, but the face of the person she had encountered was undeniable.
That was Viaresu...I'm sure of it. How did he get here? And where did he go? Isn't he...well, dead? This is so confusing...I need some answers; I need too—
She paused in her jumbled planning to absorb one crucial fact.
He's alive...
Cesia closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree trunk for support. How was she supposed to feel? She wasn't quite sure. The emotions that she had been holding back ever since the brief glimpse of that familiar face all clamored to be let loose—relief, happiness, anger, confusion, fear, regret—a little bit of all of those. Her Light Dragon Amulet, clenched tightly in her fist, dug into her palm, a painful reminder of the time in the Dragon Palace, when it had warned Viaresu away from her...but she had told Rath he was her friend. Friends, yes; nevertheless, friends didn't always agree, especially when it concerned her safety. He had wanted to protect her: she knew his intentions were always for the best. Yet look where it had led him—down a fatal path right onto Rath's swordblade. Friends, but...
And, in the back of her mind, Rath's final question, the one she had pretended not to hear, the one she had avoided answering...
"You said you were friends. But wasn't it more than that?"
"Was it?" she whispered weakly to herself. She pressed her face to the tree trunk, breathing in the spicy-sweet scent of the bark, as if hoping some cryptic response might emerge from the gnarled wood.
She didn't know the answer. How could she say yes or no to the question, when she didn't really know what love was? A life as an orphan, brought up among unfeeling yôkai to whom she was nothing but a valuable possession...what did she know about love? And what did he know of love? What gave him the ability to freely hand his heart to her, when she was so clumsy, so unknowledgeable, so blunderingly capable of ripping and tearing it to shreds?
"He's so stupid..." Hot tears trickled down her cheeks, onto the rough wood, into her fisted hands. "So stupid, so stupid." Cesia turned her face to the sky. "Why, Viaresu...? Stupid idiot...how can you love someone who can't even love back...?
Questions she whispered now to the smiling blue sky, but ones she hadn't dared to pose to him. She'd never asked, never, and after his death she had regretted it. Better to know, no matter how bitter the knowledge. Better to understand than to be forever wondering.
But now, by some miracle, she had been granted a second chance.
He's back...he's back! All the questions, held in for so long—she would ask this time, she would ask and understand. How he, a yôkai living for years among others of his kind, could ever have learned to love.
And some distant, timid corner of her mind cried out, Maybe he'll teach me.
She wiped the tears off her face, feeling better than she had for a long time. Unbeknownst to her, ever since the night of Viaresu's death, she had been carrying around a heavy, aching burden buried in her heart. Now she felt wonderfully, marvelously light, with the anticipation that it would soon be lifted. But first things first. She had to find him.
And to find a yôkai...
Cesia sprinted up the path to the Dragon Palace, grim determination on her face.
...all I need is Rath.
-------
He'd been seen.
Of all the luck...it had to be her. If only it had been one of those idiotic so-called Dragon Knights—what were they named? Rune and Thats?—he could have disposed of them without a second thought. Instead, it had been the one person that he could not kill...the one person he had come up here to see, but this chance encounter was far, far too soon.
He couldn't believe it. Sitting in that dingy bar in a remote corner of Draqueen, as far away from the palace as he could conceivably be without leaving the city—and she had been there. Coincidence? No, fate. Fate and his own weakness, his own stupidity.
That voice. Hidden in the folds of his cloak, he had heard her voice. Quietly, politely, but edged with her steely will, it had approached and asked to see the new glaive he had ordered. At the time, he'd convinced himself that he didn't really recognize it, that it couldn't have been her at all, but in his heart he knew. It was her voice—how could he forget?
And he'd turned then, heart in his throat, so stupid, so weak, ready to throw it all away—the planning, the saving, the hoping—for one glimpse of her face. Standing there, silhouetted against the bright windowpane, a dark shape with vague features, he had nonetheless recognized her immediately.
Cesia. That expression on her face. He would never forget.
He had planned this for so long, so terribly long. Even shrouded in the mists of that dark place the kiss of Rath's sword had sent him to, he had been thinking, scheming, plotting. To protect her, to keep her happy and safe—his obsession, his reason to struggle against the black that constantly sought to bear him down into blissful oblivion. And yet, even in his wildest dreams, he had never hoped—
never suspected—
never dared to think for even a moment—
that some faint glimmer of his own feelings would be reflected in her face. A heart, even the heart of a yôkai, was a fragile thing. So easily crushed: its high walls, its impenetrable barriers, built up by years of facing the uncaring world—all destroyed in a split second by the look in the eyes of one person.
Cesia.
End Chapter Five
A/N:Flails uncontrollably: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo...that last part was so...so DISGUSTINGLY mushy! TOT;;; It didn't turn out at all like I wanted it too...I massacred it! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo... I'm so sorry! I'll try to fix it!