Chapter Eight
Her tears had dried on her face but she did not notice. Celena was far too overcome by her more positive emotions to notice the sticky trails of her dried up tears. She didn't dare open her eyes for fear that Denevive might disappear - and if she kept them closed, her lips would still be experiencing the warm pleasure of his kiss. It seemed too soon when he finally pulled away, his hands clutching hers; if from nervousness or otherwise, Celena couldn't say. Her eyes were still closed.
"Celena." said Denevive softly. She snapped her eyes open and looked at him, almost startled out of the sweetness that had enveloped her just a moment ago.
"Y - yes?" she stammered, holding his hands even more tightly. Denevive smiled again, letting out a small huff of amusement.
"You're quite the catch, my lady." he said, bringing his hand up to brush her cheek gently. His smile widened when her skin turned pink beneath his touch.
"Thank you." responded Celena shyly. Where was this conversation going again, she asked herself. She had completely lost track of what had happened just moments before. Then she remembered - the box! Now it was miraculously changed into a map and had contained the letter and ring. Her curiosity was replenished. "What are your plans now, Denevive? You are still King Van's samurai general but . . ."
Denevive seemed to know what she was going to ask and had already begun to form an appropriate reply. "Yes, I have spoken to Jadik . . ."
"Who's he?"
"Van's chief advisor. I spoke to him and he had decided that I was not in the right state of mind to continue my duties."
Celena guffawed. "He dismissed you?"
"No, no." Denevive laughed slightly, "He's let me go on a holiday. I explained my situation and my discovery - he certainly took the news well, as I thought he would. He's quite the wise man, you know. He's not telling Van about this, however. Instead, the story is that I'm a bit bothered by hurting your brother. It's funny," he said after a moment, seeing the confused look in Celena's eyes, "You would think after all my years of training and battle, I would be used to such sights."
"You mean - you really are a bit bothered by it?" she asked softly, "Haven't you killed men before?" What a terrible thing to ask, she said to herself.
"Why, yes. I have. Many times. But it would take too long for me to explain my feelings at the moment. I will say that I held a great deal of admiration for Sir Allen and that I have never felt more sorry than taking away the skill of which I admired of him. A slight pang of guilt, perhaps, although I was just doing my duty."
Don't argue, Celena forced herself to think. She nodded after a moment and continued, "So you're on holiday now. What for?"
"To travel to Aelyria, of course. It is my birthplace. Perhaps I'll find my parents there. I have so many questions to ask them . . . "
"Well," said Celena, interrupting Denevive's soliloquy, "How are you getting there? Airship?"
"Too expensive, I'm afraid. The best I can do is gather a crew for a sea ship and travel that way. It will take some time, of course. At least a month to prepare. And I wanted to know," he took both of her hands again and squeezed them fondly, looking deep in her eyes for his next question, "will you join me on my quest?"
Celena didn't know what to say. Not even a proper stutter was emitted from her choked up throat. Her feelings were so suddenly mixed at that moment - first excitement for an adventure to an unknown and magical continent. She felt a love and want to be with Denevive the whole way across the seas to the land of fey. Then there was fear - for herself and for confronting her brother. She couldn't leave him alone. She had to take care of him and help him.
"Well?" prodded the half-elf anxiously.
"I'll think about it. A month, right?" Denevive nodded. "Right, so . . . yes, I'll think about it." She offered him a smile. "Now, you must go. Allen might be done any minute now and he'll need me."
"Yes, of course." He was shown to the door, giving Celena a light kiss before leaving. She watched him for a while, standing at the doorway and gazing as he disappeared around the bend to where his horse probably waited hidden among the bushes. She then closed the door with a sigh and a slight smile on her face.
"I've heard interesting things about your exploits while I was asleep." Allen's voice was unusually cold, making Celena go rigid at his tone. Her hands froze, as they had been fixing the sheets on his bed (none of the maids were brave enough do it themselves while Allen was in the room). She could almost feel herself grow pale, her hands numb as she forced them to work out the wrinkles on the newly changed sheets. She could most certainly feel his eyes upon her, staring coldly at her while he sat in his favorite chair and wearing clean trousers and a white silk shirt.
"I - Interesting things?" said Celena nervously, chopping her hand beneath the pillows a little harder than she had initially intended. When she finished, she straightened but did not turn to look at him.
"Misshel told me very interesting things indeed." He would have liked to stand at that moment, to approach her and make her face him but his lack of strength did not allow for it. "My own sister . . ." he sounded disappointed, even though his tone changed from cold to scorning, "you've been consorting with that insolent fool. How could you?"
"He's not a fool!" Celena said a little too quickly, turning on her heel and - for a very brief moment - her eyes livid with sudden anger. But the sight that met her eyes quickly made her anger dissipate. Allen slumped in his red velvet chair, his long blond hair still damp from his bath, his left elbow leaned against the arm while he leaned his head in his hand. He would have looked normal, dressing as simply as he always did when going about the house, except for the limp right sleeve of his shirt. "I - I mean . . ."
"Not a fool?" Allen raised his eyebrow, "I have thought long and hard about this, Celena, and Denevive is nothing more than a worthless, brainless soldier."
Again, Celena's cheeks reddened and she practically yelled, "He is not!"
"He took my arm!" Allen yelled back at her, leaning forward in his chair. "After what he's done, I hear that you go out drinking with the man! Getting stupidly drunk! Inviting him into our house? How - how . . uhnn..." he moaned, doubling over and clutching his stump suddenly. Her anger forgotten with his pain, Celena went to him, touching his shoulder and feeling much more concerned than she ever remembered being.
"Allen? What's wrong?" When Allen looked up at her, his brow was creased in pain and sweat formed on his forehead.
"It hurts." He grunted pathetically. His medication was wearing off, in truth, and this is probably what made him so ill tempered. One minute slouching and looking hazed, then the next minute he was yelling . . . it made sense. Celena seemed to understand as soon as he mentioned that he was in pain, so she ran to the spare room where the nurse had been staying.
It was a sparse room with little furniture and, luckily, the nurse had been frightened to the point of forgetting to take all of her things with her - including the medical supplies she had been using to care for Allen. Among these, Celena found a small bottle that rattled when she picked them up. It must be what Allen had been given. She rushed back to him, seeing that he had attempted to stand and didn't get very far from his chair before he fell to his knees, still holding his right side and clenching his teeth.
After a strenuous effort to get Allen back up onto his feet and moved onto the bed, Celena poured him a glass of water and handed him two pills from the bottle - she didn't know how much to give him really but two seemed like the right amount. Trouble was, within fifteen minutes, he was fast asleep - not that this troubled Celena at all but it only prolonged the inevitable. She hated fighting with Allen, even though he had mostly been over-protective of her and sometimes couldn't stand saying "no" to her (perhaps from guilt?).
She realized eventually that she only won those fights because he loved her so much. At the moment, things were drastically different. She was no longer the "poor little lost girl" and the center of attention, someone who needed to be cared for on a consistent bases. Now it was Allen's turn and Celena wasn't sure if she could provide him with as much attention and care as he had to her - not with Denevive and the chance of adventure still prominent in her thoughts.
The days wore on slowly. Each morning Celena would wake up (Misshel had suspiciously disappeared suddenly to go on a trip to visit family), dressed in the simplest of gowns and not bothering with her hair before she visited Allen and made sure he took his medication to avoid pain (one pill instead of two). For the rest of the day, he would be left in a haze but was still able to walk around and be reasonably coherent of his surroundings. He stopped having his meals in his room after a few days and insisted that he return to eating in the dining room properly.
Dressing was certainly strange - Allen would be able to do most of that himself but there were still several things he needed Celena for. Buttons, for one thing. The strings at the collar of his shirts he never really bothered with before anyway, but he began to seriously loathe buttons. After a while of awkwardly tying the drawstring of his trousers, Celena eventually became accustomed to the task and didn't scrunch her face up as much. Allen would simply stand there, muttering swear words under his breath as he offered his left hand with the cuff undone.
"Bloody, bloody cuffs." Celena would hear him say as she buttoned the cuff impatiently. Much to Allen's chagrin, she would then take the right sleeve and fold it up neatly to pin just below the end of his stump so it wasn't in the way. Allen always made a point to look away when she did this - not that Celena blamed him. She hated doing it too. She hated doing this whole damned thing every morning. Dressing him, feeding him - thank the gods she didn't have to bathe him.
Everyday it was the same thing and it wasn't before long that she grew tired of it. She would have to constantly watch the clock to make sure he got his medication on time - after five hours, his haze would disappear and he'd get extremely irritable and loud. Usually it would lead to bringing up the subject of Denevive but before she could answer, he would be in too much pain to pay attention. Luckily, Celena was usually able to avoid this discussion if she made sure to give him the pain killers.
Already into the month of Red and just a few weeks ago, during Indigo, was when everything occurred. On the eighth moon of Red, Celena had grown so exhausted from caring for Allen day in and day out that she just slept in. She saw the sunrise through the curtains of her bedroom, moaned and turned over. She had closed her eyes sleepily and felt so wonderfully comfortable that she didn't feel like moving from the warmth of her bed. So she gladly snuggled into her thick bedspread. She was completely unaware of how much time went by before she woke up with a start.
She sat bolt upright in bed and looked through the cracks of her curtains - the sunlight seemed to be coming from nearly directly overhead. Muttering a curse, she jumped out of bed, grabbed her bed robe and haphazardly threw it on as she ran out the door and into the hall.
"I'm coming, Allen! I'm sorry, I - . . ." but when she got to his bedroom and opened the door, he wasn't in there. Celena's brow furrowed deeply at this discovery, slowly taking the time to tie the sash of her robe properly as she made her way down stairs and into the kitchen.
"Happy Birthday!" was the loud roar that met her ears, a grand cacophony created by the meager staff of their house. Kush, the young stable boy, was there bearing a small gift for her. Muri, the young gardener, bore a bouquet of forget-me-nots (Celena always thought he had a crush on her).
A moment of brief shock filled Celena and Jeyla stepped forward, gently guiding the gaping girl to sit at the table which held a small round cake covered in chocolate frosting, several plates, tea and coffee. "Happy birthday, miss." she said gently with a slight giggle. Celena still hadn't spoken, not even to say thank you.
"What day is it?" she asked instead, which after a moment she realized how stupid the question must have seemed since it was obviously her birthday. Everyone seemed to realize this too and laughed without so much as an answer.
"I got you something, Miss Celena." Said the young Kush happily, offering his small gift. She smiled gratefully to him and received the gift. The small decorative paper box contained a small pair of opal earrings and Celena smiled widely at the sight. "Thank you, Kush. I love opals!"
"Oh, they're not opals, miss. They're Moonstones." He smiled widely at her.
"Moonstones?" she said, looking at them more closely - funny how she could have mistaken the foggy stones for opals, "What a precious gift. How lovely."
"I got them 'cause of your name." continued the boy shyly. Did he have a crush on her as well? Suddenly, it seemed, they all came flocking to her when Allen was indisposed most of the time - how intriguing, she thought.
Mallie, the cook, kept herself busy serving the two maids and herself some cake and coffee. Celena blinked a bit, her mind still groggy from shock and sleep. She didn't notice the bouquet of blue flowers that landed in her arms until Muri cleared his throat and bowed timidly to her. Celena thought he was about to speak, as he had opened his mouth slightly but quickly closed it, blushed and left the kitchen through the backdoor - perhaps he had much gardening to do that day.
She looked around again, seeming to finally notice what was missing - she saw Kush sitting at the end of the table and happily wolfing down his chocolate cake. She turned to Mallie, who was sipping at some coffee, and asked, "Where's Allen?" Despite her silent reassurances, Celena couldn't help but feel a bit hurt that Allen didn't remember her birthday - then again, she hardly remembered herself.
"I haven't seen him, miss." said Mallie kindly, offering her a smile. "Have you checked the study?"
Celena shook her head and excused herself quickly, leaving her gifts on the table by the cake. Allen was indeed in the study, seated at their father's old desk and seemingly poring over documents - at least that's what it looked like to Celena, for his back was towards her.
"Allen?" she began timidly, not daring herself to approach him. She couldn't really figure why she felt such sudden intimidation in his presence. Maybe it had something to do with not knowing if he took his medication that morning - not knowing if he was ready for an argument. Not knowing if he can over-power her again.
"What kept you?" he asked quietly. He didn't turn to look at her, simply keeping his back to her where he was seated.
"I'm sorry. I over slept. I don't know what came over me . . ."
"You were tired." Allen answered simply, "Probably tired of taking care of me. Which is why I let you sleep."
"I'm sorry," she said again, as if pleading.
"It's alright." He finally turned the chair around to face her, "I managed just fine on my own. Except the cuff." He held up his left cuff for her to see, undone and sagging on his wrist. His other sleeve was pinned just as Celena usually pinned it - although it was folded rather awkwardly, he had managed to do it himself just the same. She buttoned the cuff patiently and he lowered it when she finished.
She gasped, for on his desk were not the usual documents he would examine. Instead, there upon the scratched mahogany surface was none other than the wooden map, the ring, and the letter scroll. "Where did you find those?" was Celena's immediate and impulsive question. Perhaps it would have been better to keep quiet, though it would have been in vain.
"Ah, yes. I had been meaning to ask you the very same." Allen's face was rather stoic and it unnerved Celena. She thought it would have been better to at least read anger or disappointment in his face but to see absolutely no emotion was worse than either of the emotions afore mentioned.
"Well?" he prodded, perhaps a little impatiently with his eyebrow elegantly raised in an inquisitive arch. Celena gawked and remained quiet, for she did not know exactly how to answer, and merely stood there in silence. "Answer me." Allen snapped, annoyance finally creeping into his features and his voice so crisp that it broke through Celena's brief stupor.
"The puzzle box." she said finally, but if she was heard or not was a mystery because Allen's next question seemed completely unrelated.
"What were you doing in my private study?" Again, Celena was left standing in fear as she faced her brother. She took a safe step back when he stood and approached her, grabbing her arm with his remaining left hand and glaring down at her. "You know that I do not allow anyone in here. Anyone. Not even you. Especially not you."
Celena's blue eyes flared with anger and she yanked her arm out of his grip, him still being too weak to have a proper hold on her. "How dare you accuse me . . .!"
"I accuse you of nothing." spat Allen intolerantly, "But I think I should remind you that this is my private space and I don't like intruders looking about my personal things."
The girl could only sputter for a second before finally managing to say, "I'm your sister!" At this, Allen snorted indignantly and turned back to his desk, promptly sitting back down in the rickety chair he had vacated just moments before. Celena stared at his hunched backside, feeling quite bristled.
"Now explain these items quickly. What are they doing here?" asked Allen after a moment of awkward silence.
"The puzzle box, you dung heap! Pay attention." She really couldn't stop herself from calling him names, being completely livid and tensed up - she looked like a floor board, standing upright and possessing flaring nostrils.
"Don't call me names!" was Allen's immediate reply, on his feet and turned around once again, glaring daggers at his younger sibling.
"Well, if you'd paid attention in the first place instead of indignantly reminding me of my place about the house, you'd have realized that I've already answered your question. Now give me those items back!"
Allen gently held her back when she tried to reach for the objects left on his desk. "Not until you answer my questions."
"I've answered your questions!" She argued, struggling against his strength while reaching towards the map in vain, "Now give them back!"
This was probably going to be more difficult than Allen thought, but luckily he was no longer in so much pain that he couldn't concentrate or had to take pain killers that made him practically useless. "Now see here, Celena. Calm down."
"You calm down! Those aren't yours!" she yelled, finally pushing him aside with enough force so that he fell back into his chair. She snatched up the wooden map and scroll as quickly as she could - the silver ring, however, managed to fall to the floor as it had been laying on top of the wooden map. The ring landed with a dull "clink", by which Allen quickly bent and grabbed it with his less dominant left hand.
Stupid, stupid Denevive, Celena thought to herself, leaving all his things behind. What in the world could have made him forget such important artifacts - certainly essential to his quest. Very briefly, Celena was flattered with the thought that he must have been distracted with her while he was leaving and simply forgot to pick them up. Then she had to wonder if, because of this, he had not tried to reacquire the items within the past couple of weeks. She didn't even want to think of what Allen would do if he ever caught the samurai snooping about the house.
"Stay right where you are." demanded Allen of her, as she had clutched the board to her chest, the scroll being significantly squashed under the pressure. Reluctantly, Celena turned to face him again. "The puzzle box. Father's puzzle box?" She nodded. "But - how can that be?" He stared down at the ring, examining it carefully as it rested lightly in his palm.
"Where did father find it, Allen?" It was the question she had been meaning to ask him ever since Denevive shared the discovery with her - although she wasn't sure if she should mention Denevive's involvement with the whole plot just yet.
Allen shook his head slightly, "I can hardly remember. All I can recall is the day he came home after walking on the beach, holding a black stone box with intricate designs all over it. He cleaned it up and gave it to mother as a gift, I think. She thought it was a delightful paper weight."
Paper weight, indeed, thought Celena. She couldn't hide this secret any more. Telling Allen would be her only option. "It's magic, Allen." she said with a tone of delight and excitement.
It would seem that Allen had no choice but to be skeptical, as he had not seen the box magically transform into the wooden map. As he sat in thought, he brought his hand up and held his right stump - almost casually, though it seemed to have been made into habit for him. It was as if he tried, in vain, to hide his failure and had he still had his right arm he probably would have had them crossed.
"Nonsense." he said after a moment.
Celena narrowed her eyes, "I'm sure you've seen plenty of incredible things. More incredible than a mere box turning into a map. Did you not tell me that you visited the ruins of Atlantis itself?"
At this, Allen could not argue, for he did in fact witness the ruined beauty of the ancient city - led there by rediscovering the cryptic text in his father's journal. The ring, which he still had in his hand, he felt press dully against the sensitive skin around his stump as it was only lightly bandaged underneath his shirt. Celena stared, still clutching the map to her chest and feeling the scroll crumple under the pressure. Such anxiety as this she had never felt before and was afraid of what might happen next.
"Allen?" she prodded quietly, watching his hunched shoulders sadly and wondering desperately what he was thinking. He looked . . . angry. By what right did he have to be angry, said a voice in the corner of Celena's mind. Yes, indeed. By what right? She had cared for him constantly and endlessly - tirelessly, even. No, this man before her that she called brother certainly had no right to be angry with her. She would be ready, she vowed. Ready to defend her position and her own rights if he uttered a single word of animosity towards her.
"Take the ring." he said quickly, offering it to her.
She snatched it, scowling and unaware of the lividness about her. "I will take it. It's not yours! None of this is your business! You keep your hand off of it all!"
Allen looked rather shocked. "Celena, what . . .?"
"And I will not take anymore of this! I've done nothing but care for you and this is what I get in return? No, you stay right there, you blasted pin-headed oaf! Not a word out of you! I've had it! I've had enough!" At this, she began to stop her foot rather vehemently on the floor. "I want a break! A vacation! It's my BIRTHDAY, FOR JETURE'S SAKE!" She fairly yelled the last, uncaring of how her voice must have carried through to the kitchen.
Allen could only stare at Celena, watching as her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed anger. He would have asked her what the matter was, had it not been so clearly announced on her part. He disregarded her use of the Sea God's name in vain, trying to let her angry words settle. It was . . . her birthday? How could he have forgotten?
"I'm sorry." he forced himself to say.
Anger overwhelmed her, even as he apologized. It didn't seem to penetrate her skull, her brain feeling swollen with such contempt towards her brother's ungratefulness. The silver ring still in her hand, she subconsciously slipped it onto her finger and was only vaguely aware of the energy she felt shoot through her body. Her mind was too clouded to think of anything but Allen's wretched selfishness.
"I'm sure you are . . .," she remarked sarcastically, sneering.
The mysterious items were forgotten, thoughts of apologies to his sister were the only thing that lingered in his tired mind. He couldn't honestly say he felt sorry for her - not with so many of his own problems he had to wrestle with everyday. Just trying to feed himself with one hand was frustrating enough. No, he had been ungrateful even as he hurt and tried to cope with his loss - he should have at least thanked her for all she had done for him.
He stood, weary suddenly, and struggled to decide on his next action. A moment later, he took one of the five swords down from his collection displayed on the wall. In his grip he held a light Asturian blade, similar to his own but shorter in size - best suited for a female and very rare in design, which is why it had been in his personal collection. He offered Celena the blade, sheathed in a fine black and silver scabbard, and tried very hard to smile as he said, "Happy Birthday, Celena."
For a long moment, Celena did not move, her eyes filled with anger and confusion as she stared at the scabbard holding the Asturian blade - memorizing it's design, like silver threads crisscrossing as it wrapped around the shiny black enamel. This magnificent piece of art was being offered to her by a man who had no more use for such a weapon. Though this gesture tore at her heart, feeling that Allen was being sincere, she timidly accepted the blade.
"Thank you, Allen." she choked, her eyes sparkling. She only felt the slight weight of the weapon in her hand for a moment before setting it and the map down and embracing her brother warmly.
Allen stiffened at first when she hugged him, as it had been so long since he had any sort of affectionate contact with anyone. He had been prone to pushing everyone away lately, embarrassment leading him to seclusion. But his sister's arms were firmly around him this time. His left arm, solid and warm, managed to snake around her slender shoulders and he held her to him as if he were holding onto life itself.
"The title of a Knight Caeli had, at one time, been simply an honorable title, holding no true worth as a soldier," began Allen softly, whispering into Celena's silver curls. He sagged tiredly against her, bringing up his hand to stroke the beautiful silky hair that belonged to his sister, "They told me that it had been the way of the Caeli Knights to act as members of the royal court - merely symbols of Asturian royalty. I was the youngest to enter their ranks and was the first to uphold the true calling of the Knights after four hundred years by fighting for my country rather than representing a name."
He spoke in a solemn tone, quiet and soothing at the same time while he still held Celena close to him. It was true what he said about the Caeli Knights. When Asturia was first established, a very long time ago, the king gathered twelve elite soldiers to be his personal royal guard. These soldiers fought fiercely for their king, as was expected of them through the wars that occurred. Only the best were accepted into the Order of Heaven. After peace had been established, however, their were no more wars to be fought and the Knights Caeli became little more than elite guardsmen dressed in blue and gold uniforms. Technique in their swordsmanship was all they had, as their was little experience to gain in the peaceful coastal country of Asturia.
Four hundred years later, a young sixteen year old was accepted into the ranks with the skill that had been lacking among the other Knights. Being under the tutelage of one of three Sword Masters, he had brought with him the forgotten knowledge of sword combat and had led the Knights into a new era in the War of Destiny.
"But now they have no more use for me." Celena could hear Allen's voice resonating in his chest as her ear was pressed against it. His emotions seemed to spill from him at such close contact, in that embrace in which she held him and he held her. She felt her heart cramp, the muscle sink a little deeper into her chest cavity as she felt such deep sadness coming from the very vibrations of his voice. She decided not to say anything, because this was Allen's time to talk - and for her to finally listen. Settling into his warmth, however sad it was, she let him continue.
"My sister." It was a whisper but such pride was inflected in his tone, "My brave sister. You had once asked me if you could ever be a knight. I answered you wrongly back then. So wrong was I to even deny you the dream, and that's what it seems to be when you've reached that point. Such honor it is to receive the title of the Heavenly Order. Celena, I feel in my heart that you - are capable of great things. And I have no doubt that you will one day stand as a Knight Caeli."
Her eyes began to sting again, though not from the dust that traveled among the sunbeams. In the last words he uttered, she concluded that he was asking her to replace him among the Knights. But why her? She was capable with a blade, enough to hold her own against a half-trained thief maybe but . . . a Knight? The very idea suddenly overwhelmed her. How silly she must have sounded, that day when she had inquired to her brother if she would ever become a Knight Caeli. Now, here she stood in the broken man's hold, with no more training than what her body remembered from her alter-ego and that which Allen had been able to provide the few days before the duel.
"You will have to train very hard," continued Allen, taking her silence as mere shock and awe, "And it will take time. But you will succeed. Just as our ancestors had."
"Our ancestors?" Celena's voice cracked, unaware at how unstable her voice had grown with her emotions building up inside of her. Allen must have noticed, for her brought up his hand to her head in a comforting fashion and began to gently stroke her soft curls.
"They were great heroines to our country, four hundred and fifty years ago. They led a successful resistance to an invasion from Fanelia, and even secured the current borders Asturia now holds to its name. Luca and Loreto Vander. After such a victory, they were Knighted. The blade I just gave you belonged to Loreto herself. Made of a special and obsolete element, it is light weight and beautiful as it is lethal. Take care of it. I only hope it will come to good use." With those words said, Allen let his arm drop, pulling back long enough to see Celena's glistening eyes, and walking briskly out of the study.
Wiping absently at her eyes, Celena began to gather her new sword and the items that Denevive had forgotten, glancing at her finger to make sure the silver ring was still on it. Something tugged at her soul as she moved to leave the study after her brother. She turned and looked at the desk once more, her arms laden with the scabbard and wooden map and scroll. On the surface of the desk, off to the side and forgotten, lay another scroll with a broken blue seal of Asturia. Shifting the weight of everything in her arms, she was able to reach down and spread the scroll open with her hand. Her heart fell at what she read but she understood now what brought Allen's support of her pursuit.
Allen Crusade Schezar VIII was honorably discharged from the Knights Caeli.
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Eep! Don't hurt me! I'm slow, I know... Not that anyone's really reading this. I'm beginning to think that everyone just sort of like the first one and didn't really care for this timeline. shrug Well, at least I like it.
On Luca and Loreto Vander - credit goes to Sarah-neko (Sarah Dove) for letting me use that particular element of her story Stars on the Heart: A sequel to Scars on the Heart. Most everything was her idea except the sword - that one's mine. Thanks, Sarah!
C. Selene Belyea