Author's Note
Yup. The ending is ugly and forced, but it's done, finally. I used
to like Alex, but after writing him, I'm not so sure. Next, on to
Piers. If things go happily, the next chapter won't be such a
pain.
Alex's P.O.V.
I stared incredulously at the girl now splayed upon my chest. To my disgust it took me several moments to remember where I had seen her before; the brazen young woman from atop Mt. Aleph's peak. She had, apparently, been successful in saving my life, though I doubted its worth at the moment. She had, too, seemingly healed my wounds, for a reason I could not determine. Of course, she had not seemed in her right mind when I awoke, which may have attested to her actions.
I lay still for a few moments, taking the time to form a plan of action. My first action, I decided immediately, must be to remove this female from my chest. Although my ribs had been apparently healed, they remained sore. Her weight offered no help to the situations, and I despised the idea of remaining in such a position with anyone for any amount of time. . . . And she was bleeding all over my shirt, dammit.
I shoved her off of me, though admittedly more gently than I would have were she uninjured. Although I felt no gratitude toward her for her unprecedented actions, I had pledged to her a promise, a thing I could not fulfill were she dead. Usually I would have cared little, but I had bent and broke enough promises lately that I feared the consequences should I not follow through with this.
Laying her gently across the rocky floor, I took a moment to survey my surroundings. Quartz-like formations jutted from walls, ceiling, and floor of what I quickly determined to part of Aleph's extensive myriad of caves. Although the gems were indubitably akin to Pysnergy stones, I felt certain no revitalization could be received from them. Their pulsating glow was weak, and several lay shattered across the floor, a likely result of the recent appearance of the Golden Sun.
I glanced once more to the figure laid limply at my feet and frowned. Idiot girl hadn't stopped bleeding. Dammit. I hadn't intended to actually heal her, but my options were quickly narrowing. Sighing in disgust, I knelt beside her, holding a hand lazily over her injured head. Just enough to heal the cut, I decided easily, not particularly wanting her company any time in the near future. My hand waved boredly as I called upon the healing aspect of my Mercury nature, intending to knit the wound together.
Nothing happened.
A slow dread flooded me as I choked down panic, delving inside myself for the wellspring of my water Psynergy. I was almost relieved as I felt it still there, bright and strong as ever, yet I could not touch it, could not move it. Something walled it away, sealed it from my use like an impenetrable glass globe housing swirling gas and liquid. Sealed it . . .
I ripped off my gloves in a near fevered frenzy, stripping back the fabric of my shirt to reveal . . . a glowing impression, a sealing runic triangle seared painlessly into the flesh.
A half-crazed laugh bubbled up inside of me, bursting from my mouth until I nearly dissolved in it. My Psynergy was sealed! All the skills I had carefully honed, all the years of preparation and infiltration I had spent in track of my magnificent goal, the powerful Psynergy of the Golden Sun, now useless. I couldn't so much as summon a raindrop.
The obscene pointlessness of it all drowned out even the anger I expected would consume me at the predicament. Who was at fault? That rash-acting child? The 'Wise One'? Or myself, for simply being where I had? And what did it matter, now that the deed was done?
I know not how long sat there, madly contemplating the horrible irony of my fate in frantic laughter. As yet I still have no conception of time from that strange imprisonment; with my powers stifled and no view of daylight, each moment seemed to blend to the next. At some instance, however, I regained myself enough to rediscover the limp body of my apparent 'rescuer,' if that term dare be applied to one in such dubious circumstances. I was surprised in my hysterical state to find I was both intrigued and, oddly, still worried by her comatose condition. This train of thought brought me a sudden, immense relief; without my Psynergy I had no chance of escape from the cave prison, and this child was possibly my only chance of escape from slow starvation.
Heartened that I still contained a drive to live, I scanned my now cogent mind for the scraps of first-aid knowledge I still retained from my time with Mia. Mia, that ice princess with too warm a heart, not even realizing how truly ignorant she was. Wrapped up in her soft-hearted ignorance, too frozen in her lofty ideals to realize how everything was going to the ice . . . And the look on her face when she found it was I who let the Proxians into the lighthouse . . .
A furtive smile patterned my lips as I set about for a proper binding for the girl's wound. Unwilling to further ruin my own clothing for her incompetence—the shirt was already ruined from her bloody ignorance earlier, to say nothing of the fraying results of her pathetic Retreat attempt—I tore the already tattering border from her skirt for a makeshift head-piece. My senses had already determined the presence of water; my Psynergy may have been sealed, but I still retained my affinity to the element. Further speculation discovered the water came dripping from a stalactite clinging to the ceiling. It was clean, I quickly noted, though mineral-rich, and after wetting my own parched throat I dampened my new-made rag and returned to sponge drying blood from the girl's forehead.
She stirred slightly: a mere wincing at the ginger pressure against the flesh, but enough to prompt me to more care and speed at my task. I had no intention of her waking in any near moment. Although I preferred not to remain in the cave any longer than I must, I cared not to deal with another person, coherent or not, until I could determine a proper explanation for my recent behavior, both for their enlightenment and my own.
Quickly, carefully, I encircled the wound with the torn fabric band, tying it tightly to staunch the blood flow. Satisfied she would not mindlessly bleed to death, I sat back and, as an afterthought, unclasped my cape to drape it over the girl's prone body. This action I regretted soon after, not for the loss of warmth but for the uncharacteristic charity, but it seemed morally unjust to remove a gift from one who could not protest, and the cape remained.
This completed, I turned my thoughts inward to the inevitable question of 'what now'? I was still pleased that I continued to think in those terms; all my efforts thus far had been in anticipation of the past mountain's events. I had foolishly, or perhaps reputingly, given no thought to this situation; I assumed that I would either succeed or die in the attempt.
Now, however, I was faced with a much odder circumstance. The first order of business, I quickly decided, must be to escape my rocky confinement. I was not incompetent without my powers; their sealing would impede my traveling, but destinations could be achieved nonetheless. Beyond that . . .
The seal must be broken. That was imperative. Once the Psynergy was accessible again, I could continue with my plans.
Without the sight of the heavens to tell by, time passed without measure as I sat in contemplation. A plethora of possible routes had presented themselves to me, but each, regrettably, seemed to rely on the awakening of the earth-adept child. The inversion of the mountain had, upon inspection, sealed this chamber to the point that no non-adept could possibly escape. I, it seemed, now fell into that category for all outward purposes.
After what was an eternity, or perhaps mere moments, the girl finally stirred. "Ah, so she isn't dead. That's refreshing," I drawled, pleased by my tone's automatic cool sarcasm.
Her eyes opened, blinking frantically as she processed her surroundings. The cautious olive centers were at first glazed, unaware, until they focused upon me in a sickened horror. I had to laugh; her reaction was so predictable, so comical; the widening of eyes, the choking gasp, the drunken stumble backwards . . . A certain wild glint must have remained in my eyes; on later thought I doubt my usual appearance would have frightened her as I seemed to in that moment.
"Do calm down," I managed, noting the dull pallor of her face as she scrambled toward the cave wall, back cowered to it. "You'll make yourself ill again."
She swallowed forcibly, ducking her head between her knees protectively as her hands cradled about her dressed wound. Finally her gaze lifted, eyes determined behind their glaze of fear. "W-what do you want??" she demanded lucidly, the confusion of her previous awakening apparently cleared.
"I want you to Cure yourself," I replied in half exasperation, "before you pass out upon me again. I do assume you can remember how."
Her fingers brushed the makeshift bandage gingerly, questioningly, then drew away quickly as her face twisted in a wince. A vaguely desperate look flitted in her eyes. " . . . you—."
"Though considering your incompetent Retreat managed to trap us beneath solid rock, I suppose I can't expect much," I interrupted, covering a yawn theatrically. Such a hassle, getting others to do what you'd prefer to do yourself . . . but, then again, manipulating them could be such an art . . .
I hid a smile as the furious glint retook her features. "It was not incompetent!" she shot hotly, aiming a finger at me. "It was your fault—you took too long! I— . . ." Her voice caught in a pained cringe, hands flying to her head once more. " . . . Oh . . ."
"Hurry up and heal your addled head," I complained, accentuating the roll of my eyes with a careless hand wave. "I should expect you're not so pathetic that I have to walk you through it."
She forced a glare at me—entirely and gladly deserved—but her eyes soon squinted shut in concentration as she fought to gather the earthen energies about her cradling hands. The process seemed far more straining than I had hoped it might be, and I was annoyed to find myself staving off another wave of unwanted pity toward the girl.
Abruptly she pitched forward, vomiting between her spread knees. For a moment I feared she might have succeeded in merely injuring herself further, but soon her head rose again, eyes clear as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and shot a murderous gaze in my direction.
"You . . . freaking bastard . . ." she gasped, shivering hands unconsciously reaching to tug my cape about her shoulders. "You self-righteous monster . . !"
I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the newly-revived sick-sweet smell. "You certainly are pleasant this evening, aren't you?" Frowning, I regarded the obnoxiously un-time-responsive ceiling of the cavern. "Or perhaps it's afternoon. Or morning . . . I seem to have lost track."
"And you—you! You could have just healed me yourself, I'll bet! You lazy selfish--" she ranted on, cutting off suddenly as she realized the origin of the fabric her hands hand clamped around. Another set of venturing fingers noted the taunt 'bandage' tied across her now unblemished forehead in silent comprehension.
"I gladly would have, if only to avoid such a tirade," I sighed, dropping the façade of annoyance, "but that was unfortunately impossible."
Tugging up my sleeves, I presented my wrists toward her, exposing the shimmering runes engraved into my skin. I spoke bitterly, slashing the words around my mouth in again-growing fury. "I don't know if it is the result of your ill-fated Psynergy or that damned 'wise' boulder, but my 'wellspring of power' is entirely cut off."
Her gaze fixed on the dancing pattern of light, silence burying her for a long moment. Something flickered in her eyes, an expression flitting on her face that I could only hope as an inkling of compassion to my situation. Readily, however, her gaze hardened, matching the humorless laugh that sprung from her throat.
"So that's it," she sighed out resignedly, one arm reaching for a crystalline handhold to pull her haphazardly to her feet. For a moment she clung to the structure, salving her balance and supporting legs shaking in exhaustion. Her voice seemed weighted by fatigue and annoyed acceptance. "You bastard."
I withheld an exasperated sigh, eyes closing for a moment in silent collection. "Yes, you've discerned that already. That does not, however, alleviate our present situation."
"You're trapped here and you only helped me so I could get you out," she continued, and although exhausted, her words managed a cutting edge. Still aiding her movement with hands clasped to the jutting crystals, she sniffed the air, moving deeper into the cavern. "Why do I even bother?"
Reading it a rhetorical question, I deigned not to answer, and instead observed her actions carefully. It had occurred to me that should she not provide a manner of escape, the both of us would likely be trapped beneath the felled mountain until death or doomsday claimed us. In such circumstances I have yet to know which would have been the sooner perpetrator.
Her nose wrinkled, noting the absent quality of the air. "Stale . . . don't know how long it'll last." She exhaled, emitting more of a snort than a sigh, and gestured to the plethora of glowing crystals. "I don't have the energy for this . . . I don't suppose any of those are active Psynergy crystals?"
I shook my head; in my lengthened speculation I had already deemed their collected quantities far below outward absorption level. "I checked, and no, unfortunate as it may be."
"And did you happen to check which direction was closest to the surface?" I said nothing in return, but at a glance she took my silence as a negative and sighed. "Right, then . . ."
Locating a small pool of collected water, she knelt slowly and awkwardly beside it, supporting her descent with a reaching hand. Clumsy fingers fumbled with the fabric about her waist, searching for some apparently encased contents. After a frustrated moment's search she seemed to find her quarry, though it was small enough that I could not see it clearly. This she set in the water before her, hands folding to a prayer-like arch.
"Grow," she whispered, and amber light fell from her hands. At first I could see no result of her efforts, but at a moments wait a tendril of leaf, dyed sea-green in the gem-light, stretched its way heavenward.
"Where is the sunlight closest?" she prodded again. More illumination glistened from her fingertips. "Where is the air freshest?"
The leaf split thrice, resolving into four distinct appendages. One, however, outgrew the rest, proudly aiming toward the darkest reach of the dim-lit cavern. The girl exhaled wearily, dropping her hands onto waiting knees. "Right, then . . . That's a start, anyway . . ."
I arched an eyebrow skeptically. This was, unsurprisingly, not the tactic I had expected her to pursue. From my observations of Venus-aligned Adepts, I had assumed their talents most closely linked with the moment of earth and rock, useful skills for those buried beneath mountains. Although her use of Retreat was characteristic of the generalization, I had hardly expected this girl might instead be a specialist in botany. How she intended to rectify our situation with such skills I had no idea; certainly this new development damped my hopes of feasible escape.
Another question from the girl broke me from my reverie. "Is this clean?" she demanded, indicating the foliage-supporting puddle at her knees. I scowled faintly, nodding in affirmation. To be reduced to such a banalities as detailing water quality . . .
She cupped her hands, bringing a mouthful to her lips. Its metallic taste induced a grimace, but she gratefully sucked down another handful. The frown deepened as she turned her gray-green eyes upon me once more.
"If you're going to be all mopey, at least make yourself useful." Her hands went to her waist once more, returning with several dozen voracious-looking seeds. These she shoved at me; I took them skeptically. "Scatter them around near the exit," she instructed, waving toward the plant-shown direction. "We'll need something to hold up the ceiling."
"There is no exit," I muttered disdainfully, unable to resist voicing the snide comment.
"There will be," she stated, dragging herself once again to her feet, then mumbling, "I hope."
Fewer crystals illuminated the far cavern, but visibility was not nonexistent. The girl was right; the air had begun to take on a stale quality; I found myself sucking more of the stale gas than I cared to admit. As she made her way painstakingly across the cave, I begrudgingly completed my assigned task, carefully sprinkling the seeds in collected puddles across the cavern floor. Her plan still remained unclear to me; just as well, I supposed. My hopes for escape were already depressingly low; I needed no specifics to further the despair.
Finally reaching the far cave wall, the girl removed one last seed from her hidden satchel, placing it in a small pool at the wall's base. "If this works," she noted, "we'll have about ten seconds to get out before the walls come down on us."
"And if it doesn't?"
She sighed. "We'll be buried alive, likely. Stand away from the walls and watch your head."
Her hands folded again, casting weary shadows across her face. Were it not for the foreboding thinness of the air, I would have wished for her to rest before attempting . . . whatever it was she was doing, but conditions forbade it.
"Grow," she whispered. "Grow, grow, grow, grow!"
All about me seeds erupted into life, shooting from the cavern floor in showers of amber light. I had to sidestep to avoid being literally skewered by the thick vines reaching to net themselves across the rocky ceiling. Roots intertwined across the ground, knotting in woody bunches like an awkward carpet. Most impressive, however, was the plant at the girl's feet. It aimed not at the ceiling, but at the cavern wall itself, plunging vine-like claws into crystalline bedrock. I stared in honest disbelief; she intended a plant to break through solid rock? It was a far cry from probable.
Sweat spilled down the girl's face, accentuating the strain of her Psynergic mantra. Probable or not, cracks had begun exuding from about the burrowing vines, the foliage drills growing with each passing second. I had even allowed myself a faint possibility of hope when the ceiling began to crumble. A shower of pebbles rained upon our heads. The larger boulders seemed momentarily contained by the awning of vine stretched across the rocks, but the plants seemed strained to withhold them.
"You—Vale girl--!" I sputtered, forcing down the second wave of unwanted panic of the day. A frantic search for her name returned the realization I did not yet know it. "The ceiling, it's--!"
She gave no reply, responding only to the shudder of the cavern with shudders of her own. "Grow grow grow grow grow grow—."
This was, quite honestly, not how I had intended to ever die. The slow suffocation may have even been preferable to skewering and crushing by cave-in, as seemed my immediate fate. "Vale girl--!"
A sweet scent brushed past my nostrils, cutting my outburst short. Fresh air. Another rumble sounded, another sharp cracking of thick rock, and—
Sunlight poured into the cavern, tumbling over the cascade of rocks barely withheld by the thick vines still crawling across their surfaces. I don't think I have ever been so elated to see the sun. The cavern, however, continued its self-destruction about us, and the girl remained fixated in her trance-like state, apparently unaware of the exit or impending cave-in.
Once again I toyed with the idea of leaving her to her fate, then annoyingly resigned to dutiful chivalry. Grabbing her—and my poor, stained cape—about the waist, I scrambled from the collapsing cavern to the sweet space beyond just as the rocks tumbled to engulf the cave behind us. Deprived of their life-giving Psynergy, the stretching tendrils of vine trembled once, then collapsed into yellowing submission.
We had emerged onto the side of the crater than had once been Vale. It stretched for what appeared to be miles, removing any trace of the flourishing town and its benefactor mountain. The girl's originally intended destination for that misguided Retreat, however, seemed nearly met; miraculously, the town's front gate remained standing, guarded by the shielding presence of Vale's enormous Psynergy crystal.
The girl, swooning in exhaustion, gasped at the rich air like a fish out of water. Feeling uncharacteristically charitable in my newfound freedom, I hefted her once more, hauling her to the still-standing crystal and the charred land around it. She gratefully collapsed upon it, circling her arms about it as its soft light enveloped her body. Duly revived, she sighed contentedly, remaining a long moment before climbing easily to her feet.
"Not 'Vale girl,'" she stated, turning her gaze toward me. It took me a moment to recall her meaning. "Rakka. Vale doesn't seem to mean much anymore."
"Ah. Miss Rakka," I noted absently. While her gaze, now grown pensive, had moved to survey the ruin of crater, mine had flitted from the Psynergy crystal to the dancing seals upon my wrists. Well, I mused, it was worth a try, if anything. Hesitantly I set my hands upon the glowing crystal's face.
It shattered.