Chapter Two
Elves! Surely he was jesting for no one had ever seen such a creature in all of Gaea. The race was only known of in stories but . . . how did that explain Denevive's unusual ears? And how did no one notice this trait about him before? All these questions - and several others - came from the awestruck Schezar and to her dismay, only some of them could be answered. Denevive explained patiently that he had been raised in a nearby province but that he did not know of his true heritage until he had spoken to an ancient sage traveling through his town. Before that, everyone in his village thought his ears as unusual but never commented on them; their shape was too subtle to make solid evidence of anything.
Truth revealed to him at last, his past was yet a mystery and this only frustrated him all the more. No civilization on this continent had ever seen his kind and he did not know where to begin looking. Repeatedly he had asked his foster parents how he had come into their lives. It was then that he discovered he was found on the fishing shore near the village where he was to be raised, an infant wrapped among seaweed in a strangely made basket of wood no one had any knowledge of. This led Denevive to believe that there was civilizations on unknown continents across the sea. But how did this explain that he was only half of an elf? His other half was undoubtedly human.
However, by this time, the questions asked only made both of them giggle and chuckle as they had moved on from wine and onto harder liquor.
"Only half of an elf!" Celena slapped the table as she tried to control her laughter, her face filled with drunken elation. Denevive moved his index finger clumsily against his lips, wavering in his seat as he tried to quiet her announcement.
"Shhh . . . you're no' s'posed to tell an'one." He too had a smile on his face, looking at the collection of empty shot glasses they had managed to gather within their visit. Both of them had turned seven of them and their contest was still going as there were five shots left full on their small table. He gently pushed one towards her. "Have another drink. . ."
"You too!" She grinned, leaning her elbow on the table to keep herself from falling over. She took her glass in hand and watched him through blurry eyes as he did the same. "One - five . . . wait no."
"Two, dear. Two. It goes one and then two."
"Right." she pointed at him with a smile. "One, two, five . . ."
"No, no. Forge' five . . . here, I'll do it. . .one, two - three!" Throwing their heads back, they quickly downed the shots and slammed the empty glass upside down, marking their eighth successful drink. Celena gasped, spirits making her teeter back and forth on her seat. Were it not for her elbow firmly on the table, she would have fallen out of her chair. Her eyes narrowed as they tried to overcome the wall-eyed vision of drunken bliss. She could barely see Denevive across from her at all, let alone remember all her troubles. How extraordinary! she thought happily as she hiccuped, everything is so - happy.
"Instant happiness! Hic!"
"Huh?" Denevive's voice was muffled as he lay his head down on the table.
"Spirits!" she lifted another full shot and couldn't seem to get her hand to stop moving as she attempted to bring it to her lips. She pouted, her lips puckering as she tried to sip from the shot that seemed to be disobeying her orders to move closer. The liquor ended up being poured onto the table rather than in her mouth.
Denevive managed grab her hand, helping her put the shot glass down. He stood and staggered over to her. "I think I should get you home. . ." He took her arm across his shoulders and helped her to stand, ignoring her giggles.
"I know - what you're wondering." she hiccuped, "What's a place like me . . . doing in a girl like this? Hic!" She laughed. Both of them stumbled outside into the street, darkened profusely by the night and only lit by occasional street-lanterns. "Now - where did I - hic - park my horse?"
Both Celena and Denevive had a rather difficult time trying to remember where Celena's horse have been before, by sheer luck, they stumbled across the stables. The stable boy was still there to saddle Mystic and, lucky for them, or else they probably would have forgotten to do it completely. Denevive insisted that he escort her home, seeing as it was late at night and traveling the forest at such an hour was prime opportunity for bandits to take advantage of a lady. So both ended up riding Mystic back through the forest towards the Schezar manor.
"Whad I'd like t'know is . . . where does a sixteen yer'old girl learn to drink like you do?" asked the samurai from behind Celena. Both were slumped forward on the gently trotting animal.
"I'm almost seventeen." she protested weakly into Mystic's silver mane, her arms around the mare's neck to keep herself in the saddle. "And you shoulda seen me when I was around his crew . . . before they all left anyway. 'Cept Gaddes. He's still around and lookin' for the rest of them now that the Crusade is working again."
"Crew?"
"Yeah, for my brother's airship. Crusade. When I was first brought home - after my brother found me, they were all still 'round. I wasn't 'sactly in my wits back then and I was very impress'able. They thought I was a normal fifteen year old and invited me to have some drinks with them, me being Allen's sister and all. Though, I don't see what that's got to do with an'thing..." She could feel Denevive's body sagging against her back and when she heard him snoring, she knew he was asleep. She wanted to sleep too. "Mystic, you know the way, right? I'm gonna go to sleep and - you get us home. . ." After a weak pat on the horse's neck, she was soon snoring right along with Denevive. The horse only snorted in disapproval. Lucky for them, Celena's horse was smarter than average and kept on the path. Funny how luck seemed prominent that night.
"Mistress Celena!" said Misshel, hurrying over to the approaching horse. He had been outside on the steps of the Schezar manor for the past half hour, standing in the cold night and freezing right down to his knickers. He had been worried for his mistress since she left for town most suddenly, leaving very little word to anyone that she was leaving at all. Though, it was hardly very late at night, just past eight in the evening, she was gone for most of the day. He saw the white mare enter through the gates and trot towards the small courtyard in front of the house. He also saw that Celena was not alone.
"My lady!" exclaimed the red-headed servant, helping Celena down from the horse. She slumped onto him, moaning in exhaustion.
"Misshel." she said with a wistful, drunken smile. The word alone carried enough alcohol along her breath that made Misshel turn his head and wave away the tainted air. He pulled her arm across his shoulders, helping her to stand as best as he could. Denevive seemed to be able to stand on his own but was not noticed by either Misshel or Celena.
"Lady Celena," began Misshel nervously, "you're brother will not be pleased when he finds out you've been drinking."
Celena smiled again, bringing her finger to her lips. "Shhh...don' tell 'im." She giggled and let herself be led towards the house, stumbling lazily beside her supporting attendant. She cast a backwards glance towards Denevive, waving to him slightly. Misshel looked back only to glare at the half-elf.
Denevive was left standing out in the cold night air, waving back to his new friend. Everything was hazy and he didn't notice the stablekeeper coming out to take Mystic back to her stall. He sighed, thinking how wonderful it was to know Celena. She was quite the lovely young lady; tomboyish at times but lovely nonetheless. The look in her eyes was imprinted several times over in his mind; such a soft color of blue. Her hair the color of silver with a hint of blond in the short wavy strands. She was so understanding and open minded. She was the only thing on his mind.
He reached back to grab the reigns to his horse only to come up empty handed. Confused, he looked around. He did bring his horse with him, didn't he? "Zendell...Zendell, where are you? . . . . Zendell?" Denevive turned about, looking bleary-eyed and hoping his horse would answer his calls. Dismayed and with no horse, he sighed and started back down the path towards Palas.
"Gods, what a headache!" Celena woke up that morning in no better a state than she had the day prior. She had sat up in bed, still in yesterday's gown, holding a hand against her head. Her hair was tossed about and her face had been pale. The light hurt her eyes, moving hurt her head and she would have gladly stayed in bed for the rest of the day. Despite the throbbing in her skull, however, she could not help but remember such elation, excitement, and curiosity as to the discovery of Denevive's mysterious origin. Surely she should admonish him for his taking part in her poor brother's affliction but how could she? Everything was so confusing now that she didn't really know how to act. She only had to keep reminding herself that it was not Denevive's fault for what happened to Allen and that she would deal with her brother when the time came.
She now sat in front of her vanity mirror, letting Misshel brush her silver curls. Her eyes were squinted against the light even though she had insisted that the curtains were to be drawn. The room she had was designed facing east and every morning, the sun rose to wake her with its cheerful rays. Cheerful as an arse on a bald headed monkey, thought Celena grumpily.
"Serves you right, miss. You shouldn't have gone gallivanting around Palas with that - that boy." scolded the attendant.
"He's no younger than you, Misshel." retorted the girl, fixing the collar on her dress. It was of simple fashion but one of her favorites with a light blue bodice and white skirt and lace.
"However old he is, do you really think it would do your brother justice after what this Denevive fellow did to him?"
Celena stopped, turning her gaze away from the reflection in the mirror to stare at the surface of her vanity. "It's as much my own fault as it is Denevive's." She said softly, "Nothing would have happened if only I had been more patient."
Misshel stopped as well, putting the silver handled brush down. He looked down at his ward with kind eyes. "My lady, you were brave. You did what you had to because you love Master Allen. Whether you acted rationally or not, you still risked your own life."
"But - if I had waited, the king would have died and the duel would be called to a draw. Had I waited . . ."
"Celena, how would you have known to wait?" asked Misshel, deliberately addressing her informally. "For all anyone knew, either Denevive or Sir Allen would have been struck down by the other and you took the chance to stop it from happening. You did not know what the future would hold. This blame you place on yourself is not healthy but I cannot stop it." She only nodded in response, heaving a small sigh.
"Thank you, Misshel." she said, standing and hoping that no more of the subject would be spoken of. She wanted to get into the habit of visiting her brother at least once a day. Talking about the reasons behind everyone's actions that led to his condition only made her resolve for the visits even more frail than it was already. She tested the feel of her soft, white suede boots for a moment before leaving her room. So dark, she thought when she entered Allen's chambers. Of course, his room was on the opposite side of the hall where hers was located. It faced away from the sun in the mornings. He always liked to watch sunsets from his room just before releasing Natal out for his hunt, she thought.
The faithful pet owl Natal was still around when Celena was brought back home almost two years ago. She had watched her brother several times from his doorway as he performed the ritual, trying to understand how he had grown so much older when she still thought she was five (almost six). The truth about her disappearance was never revealed to her until she was old enough to handle such facts; mentally old enough anyway. No one really understood the supposed science of the Zaibach Sorcerers; after a while, no one cared. It seemed that whatever spell they had over Allen's dear sister had broken over a span of 18 months. It had taken great care, patience, and the fastest course of tutoring Asturia has ever known.
"Is he still asleep?" whispered Celena to the nurse. Nurse Claudine only looked up from her knitting long enough to give the girl a scrutinizing glance before returned to her work.
"Yes, still asleep he is, poor lamb. You best be leavin' him to that sleep if he's going to get any peace after he awakens."
Footsteps made by Celena's soft boots were thankfully very quiet as she approached the side of Allen's bed where he lay - and where Nurse Claudine kept careful watch over him. Fat, stupid nurse, Celena thought to herself as she squeezed past the rocking chair in which the nurse sat.
"Could I have a moment alone with him?" asked the girl as politely as possible. The nurse eyed her warily, taking a moment to think the decision over too carefully before complying.
"All right. Not too long now." Without another word, the woman stood and left, closing the door behind her as she went.
"Good morning, Allen." said his sister softly as she knelt by his bedside. What was she to say to him while he was in such deep sleep. Surely, this was silly of her to do; but it was important at the same time. She asked herself if this was for forgiveness, to make up for what she had caused him. Celena only chided herself even more for how could she make up for what her brother has lost - his life as he knew it. Things would be changed forever and it scared her to think about. What did the future have to hold for them? More importantly, for Allen?
"I don't know why I've come here." Celena continued in hushed tones, reaching for Allen's blond locks at his forehead. "I don't honestly know if I should come here. Seeing you like this . . . it hurts, brother. I don't think I could ever make up for what I did to you. You'll be so very angry with me, I just know it. But I still love you. I can wish for everything to be as it was, though it won't make any difference and I know it. If you still want me around you, I want to help you get better. Well - as better as you can be. Just know that I still love you and I'll always be there for you."
No response. Of course, Celena didn't really expect any. Though it seemed like a moment where a meaningful response was called for. Allen only slept on, trying to regain the strength and life's blood he had lost just two days ago. His distraught sister ended her visit with a kiss on his cheek, a fresh smell of lather and the soft feel of skin telling her that he had been shaven that morning. At least the fat nurse was taking care of him, which was more than she herself was doing. Again, plans were made to ride out into the city. She wanted to speak with Denevive again, about his heritage.
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