Sins of the Fathers- Chapter thirteen
By Pavana Lachrimae
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Squaresoft is not mine; no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Well, here it is. After months of wrestling with university applications, writer's block, more university applications and- yes- more writer's block, I've finally managed to update! Sorry for keeping you waiting. I know how annoying it is when fic writers don't update. You'd think I'd know better…
-x-
I saw him only once after that, passing through Luca about six months later. His father had just been ordained as a Maester; Seymour was due to return to the temples, and continue his training. They passed through the dock as I was boarding a ship, flanked by Guado warrior-monks. If they recognised me, they did not acknowledge it.
I suspect it was one of the first times Seymour had been out of the manor. The damage to his health was tremendous- even half a year later, his body was covered selfconsciously, in long hefty robes which buried the slimness of his arms.
And there was something in his eyes, too, that had changed- a cold, almost inhuman desire to succeed, as if the birth had emptied him of life and yet his body was determined to keep walking. It unnerved me a little. It made me think I should have given the baby back to him when he asked.
I couldn't look at his face for more than a moment. I still didn't want to remember it all. I'd walked from Guadosalam to the Moonflow before I realised my dress was drenched in blood underneath my robes. My state of shock did not subside for a long time afterwards. I stayed alone in my room for a long time; I avoided the temples. I stopped delivering children, for a while.
"I never found out how Orfeo convinced your grandfather you were dead," I told Darra. "Almost as soon as I had left the room I was rushed outside in a heavy cloak, with you hidden beneath the folds. Orfeo told me the Shoopuf owner would be waiting at the bank of the lake. My guard- one of the junior doctors- escorted me until he was within sight, then turned back.
"Your adoptive parents were already waiting there with the owner. To my surprise, I knew them; the woman had been a patient of mine for some time. She could not have children, but I was aware that she sorely wanted them. When I handed you over to her she did not ask where you were from. She just looked down at you and smiled."
I felt I should say something, so I told her the baby was called Lesca. I'm not sure why she decided to change it later on. It was probably for the best, anyway- or at the time, at least. She was already dead to Seymour.
Although deep down I know it was not safe for Darra… for Lesca to stay where she was born, I will always regret separating them. It feels as if I am partially responsible for everything that happened afterwards. But I can claim no more responsibility for Seymour's transgressions than I can for what Darra did when she left my home. External forces alone control our actions; as it is with everybody else, I had no choice. No choice at all.
And neither did Darra. I remember the way she looked when I finished telling her. Blank-eyed; her hands in her lap, loose. The desperate anxiety in her face had gone. She knew the truth, at least. Now came the question of whether she'd wanted to know.
"So that's why," she said tonelessly, more to herself than to me. It was the first time she'd spoken in a while. "Well. Thank you. Now I know."
She got up, intending to leave. I felt awkward.
"Are you going to be alright getting home?" I asked.
Darra didn't look at me. "There's a ship leaving for my home tomorrow morning. I'll stay in an agency tonight," she said.
"Your home? Where is that?"
"Thank you for your time, Heba. I should leave now. I need to collect my weapons from the mender before his shop closes."
"Your weapons?" I got up and opened the door for her. The air was still and hot, but at least it was cooler by night. Small lamp-lights from the other houses lit up the road outside, and the moon was bright in the sky. "Are you a soldier?"
The girl seemed to think about this for a moment. Something flickered in her eyes, something other than the moon or the glow of the village.
"Of a sort," she said finally, and there was an odd tone in her voice. "Although I always considered training as a Black Mage. Perhaps now I should."
"Perhaps," I agreed. "Nobody could say you don't have the background."
Darra gave me a secret little smile. "Like father, like daughter?" she suggested, with a lightness that unnerved me. "I suppose it's not too late to follow his path."
"… good luck, Darra," I said, at a loss for anything else. "Have a safe journey home."
"Oh, I will," she said, and disappeared into the street.
-x-
I thought that would be the last I saw of Darra. It was obvious the story had disturbed her, even if she'd never said it explicitly. I, too, felt strange after hearing myself tell it- when a call-out came just an hour later I was thankful that my patient's baby had chosen that night to exhume itself. I knew that, otherwise, I would have lain awake in bed for a long time.
Dawn had already broken when I came back. The night had exhausted me, and finally I was tired enough to sleep with a sound mind. As was to be expected, I dreamt about him. It does not happen so much now, but when it does, it is always the same. The same words, the same airless room, the same moment of escaping breath that seemed to me so much like death… the memory has fed itself through my mind so many times that I keep expecting it to wear like an old sphererecording. It never does.
I did not wake until the afternoon sun warmed my face through the window. The day was beautifully bright- and suddenly the dream and Darra seemed a million miles away. It was sixteen years later. I had another life now. The child knew the truth; finally, I could let go. For a few days, I was able to forget.
I suppose I should have seen it coming.
On the fifth day of my release, I came home to find somebody I recognised waiting at my doorstep.
"Orfeo!" I ran to greet him. It had been a long time, but my gratitude towards him remained. He had, after all, helped me. On the night that Darra was born he had rushed me into my room and given me a warm cloak to hide underneath.
"Put this on," he'd said, "and hurry. Someone will bring you your possessions in the morning. Speak to the Shoopuf owner at the bank of the Moonflow- he will tell you what to do with the child- and then wait there. Do not worry, Heba. She will be safe. I have made sure of it."
I didn't argue with him. I'd known him long enough to trust him. Still, I was puzzled. "What about Jyscal?"
"I will see to him," the doctor said. He looked grave. "Jyscal cannot know she is still alive. It is important you keep her hidden. I had… orders to kill her."
"From Jyscal?"
"No. From the people who killed Riana."
Realisation dawned within me. "You helped her escape. Why?"
"I have daughters," he said simply.
Seeing him waiting for me outside my home reminded me of them. He'd shown me a picture once. They were quite young- about the same age as Seymour had been. I did not get a chance to ask him how they were, because as soon as he saw me, he gave a low, agitated bow.
"Heba! Please, forgive me for this intrusion-"
"It's alright, Doctor. It's been a long time-" You will never guess who I spoke to earlier this week, I was about to say, but his expression stopped me.
"Something has happened. It is- not safe to stay in Guadosalam any more," he said, his voice quavering. "You are the only one I could turn to- please forgive me-"
"Don't apologise." I opened the door and gestured for him to come in. "Tell me what happened."
"The leader of the Guado people is dead."
His voice froze me in my steps.
"Tromell- somebody has murdered him. Brutally. His body…"
I knew this story.
"… it could not have been a fiend, the cut was so precise…"
I should have seen it coming.
"… our city is now without a leader again! Disputes for power are tearing us apart…"
Orfeo's voice faded out of my hearing, and I felt my knees go slightly weak. Where would Darra go now? Would she try to find the others? Would she come back for us, or would she, as the rightful heir, find some way to seize power? Supporters of the Maester still existed, albeit few and hidden. Would she try to find them? I had no way of knowing, but whatever was going to happen, I knew it had already been set in motion.
For not the first time in my life, I fell asleep that night wondering what I had released upon the world.
-x-
Yes, it's the end of chapter thirteen! But don't worry, loves. There's still one little, vital chapter to go- and for once in my life, I've already finished it! Rather than making my wonderful readers sweat for a little longer, I decided to go ahead and post it right now. Please tell me what you think.