Chapter 1

The last bout with Albel had left Fayt feeling annoyed and almost depressed. So the peaceful setting of darkness sending light away with a coaxing hand was a relief. However, it was short lived with Fayt started violently as he felt some moist fall on his face. He opened his eyes but saw nothing unordinary. He assumed it was just a nature thing and closed his eyes again. Unfortunately, when subsequent drops fell, Fayt glared up at the sky for ruining his rare solitude.

He sat up with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. Fayt's whole body felt like it would never work properly again when he got up. He was just drained and didn't want to be fussed over at the inn. Maria and Cliff would never let him alone, that he knew.

He squinted out a heavily leafed tree a little from where he stood. He decided to sleep under its leafy protection because he didn't want to deal with team mates. That, and walking back. He wanted to be lazy for once as he put his sword beside him, plopped himself under the tree, and fell into a fitful sleep.

---

Albel stared out of the open window in his room at the rain. Drip, drop. Pitter, patter. It drove him insane. He didn't want to continue to be bored in his room. He also didn't want to stand in the pitiful raindrops outside. He preferred snowstorms and thunderstorms. Mother nature's true show of power. The gentle downpour would be effortless to train in. Storms usually present more of a challenge when he trained.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly.

Truthfully, he could've rested if he wanted. Saving the lives of the wretched weaklings of the galaxy had worn on him. On his physical and mental stability. It was practically overkill. That was not to say he stable in the first place.

Albel glared at the sky and wished it would show more violence. Something other than the reflection of the townspeople in the busy place. Something to keep him entertained and occupied. Away from the blue haired fool of a boy.

He shook his head to dispel the ludicrous thought and focused on what he would do. He knew he wasn't hungry; that silly inn maid who always gawked at him had already brought him food.

If one could call that grovel food, Albel thought disgusted.

He breathed in deeply and felt his whole body ache. Albel knew it would be wise to get some rest, but he felt restless. Besides, sleep was hardly a pleasant thing for him.

Sleep usually came with nightmares or cryptic dreams. He always hated being unable to understand something. Dreams that left him confused most made him irritated. Riddles that could only be thought up by his own mind. Questions only he could answer, but didn't know how to. It frustrated him to no end. He knew he tittered on the edge of madness when he began to ponder about the boy.

Fayt, the fool.

Fayt. The obsession.

Albel knew when it started, the exact moment it began. It was at the mines. When Fayt let him live knowing fully that Albel could perhaps be his downfall one day. That action made him confused and angry. They were enemies. How could the stupid boy let him live? He should've died a warrior's death like he had assumed when he'd taken up the life of living by the sword.

Instead, he was humiliated and strung up like some common criminal in the kingdom he protected with his life. The irony wasn't lost on him. He smiled morbidly.

He'd thought he'd seen the last of the blue-haired boy that shown him mercy no other would've. But then, he thought that no other could beat him. He snorted suddenly.

When he joined Fayt's party, he slyly found it was a way to find out how Fayt got his strength. Albel wanted to know how, where, when, what he used when he trained. He wanted to know how the mere child had come to beat him, almost effortlessly.

Fayt never cease to confuse, anger, and awe him. Albel hated Fayt for making him feel more at one time than he usually does. How could anyone spill blood in their lifetime and remain untainted. No. Fayt was affected but somehow remained the person he'd always been.

But how? Albel asked himself again.

He wondered how he could attain the power Fayt wielded so naturally. None of Fayt's methods made sense to him. Although, Albel had no doubt that Fayt being the embodiment of destruction had something to do with it. He smirked as he thought sparring with him one on one. It had been a while since they had and wanted to know how much the fool had progressed.

He frowned when he noticed he started thinking about Fayt again. He turned to lay down.

Suddenly, he heard thunder and smiled. It would be starting soon. He grabbed the Crimson Scourge and walked out the inn.

--

Fayt felt cold, freezing actually. He heard sounds all around him and didn't really want to wake up. He was forced to though when something hard and wet hit him.

"W-Wha…?" He cracked open an eye to see it was pitch black outside. He groaned and closed his eyes hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. He heard a dark rumble roll through the plains and knew he couldn't stay any longer. He opened both eyes just in time to see thunder crack down on the earth and two large shadows move about.

"What's that?" Fayt whispered to himself. With every flash of lightening he saw the two figures circle each other. It almost seemed as if they moved in slow motion because every flash showed them in a different area.

Fayt stood up when it registered in his sleep fogged brain that he should avoid the danger. He groaned again when he also noticed he was wet and that it was pouring outside. Suddenly, Fayt felt the hair rise on his body and smelt ozone.

He dived right before it hit.

"Ugh." Fayt turned around to look at what used to be a whole tree. He dusted off the stray pieces of wood that had landed on him as he stood. He looked behind to see that one of the shadows had fallen. My sword! He looked around at ground frantically knowing he was practically bare without. He wasn't in any state to try Symbology. That required concentration he didn't have at moment.

"Heh, heh." He heard a voice behind him.

"Who's there!" Fayt shouted, to try to intimidate whoever was out there.

"Looking for something?" the voiced taunted.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Fayt risked another glance behind him for his sword.

"Looking for your weapon?" continued the voice. Fayt frowned, it almost sounded familiar. "You really are pathetic. It's in your hand, fool."

Fayt found himself already looking down at his hand. And there it was. How humiliating. He looked up and squinted through the rain. The taunting shadow was gone. He then realised who the voice belonged to.

"A-Albel?" Fayt choked out.

Fayt gasped when he felt an steel arm wrap around his neck and a blade press to his flesh. He could feel his assailants breath hot against his right ear. After a few moments of pants, Albel spoke.

"You let your guard down like the fool you are. How disgraceful," breathed Albel, against Fayt's ear. Fayt felt an odd sensation go through him but ignored it.

"A-Albel, let me go," Fayt breathed out. Albel's arm almost cut off his air supply. The blade didn't help either.

A hot chuckle resounded against him. "Why don't you make me?"

Fayt did at some point figured he could, but didn't really want to try. He quickly shifted his sword and hit Albel on his side with the hilt. It didn't break Albel's grasp but it loosened it enough for Fayt to elbow him and meet sword for sword.

"Hmm, I knew there was a working brain somewhere in that skull," jibed Albel, as he started to circle Fayt, seemingly unaffected by being jabbed in the stomach.

Fayt looked tiredly at Albel while trying to keep up. "I'm not here to spar, Albel." He blinked rapidly, the downpour worsened. Albel didn't seem to bothered by the vicious rain.

"I'm not either," he answered back, with a clang against Fayt's sword. "I came to finish our conversation." He suddenly lunged and Fayt almost didn't avoid being skewered.

"Albel!" Fayt shouted annoyed.

"What?" Albel said, almost innocently. But in his case, it was the complete opposite.

Fayt only glared.

"Now hold your tongue and let me speak," Albel said, with another clang. "Men are greedy beasts who know no ends to a means. The conquer and kill and consume everything in sight. Kingdoms are no different."

"What about Aquaria?" asked Fayt, as he dodged another attack from Albel.

Even though it was dark and rain thundered down on them, Fayt could see Albel's face twist with contempt. "Aquaria? Ha! One could hardly start to call that a kingdom. But we'll use that for an example for now."

Fayt rolled to the side as Albel started swing his katana in wide arcs. He stood up quickly and held out his blade in an defensive stance. "You call this talking?"

Albel shrugged with his steel clad shoulder. "Talking with benefits." Another flash of lightening revealed that crazed smirk he wore every now and then. "Anyway," another lunge, "one cannot have a kingdom without shedding blood. Blood must be split to conquer and maintain. There isn't a way around it. And peace," he brought his blade down fiercely to clash with Fayt's, "peace will always be temporary."

"This is where the greed of men's hearts interfere with your cherished peace," Albel said mockingly. "They want more land, more women, or wealth. There's so many follies foolish men choose to take up. Greed and cruelty are usually the fuel that burns the fire, the conditions that put loyal men to slaughter any who dare to resists their superior's wishes. I live in the blood of many. I took pleasure in doing my kingdom's work."

Fayt frowned at him and side stepped one of Albel's air slashes to attack him from the behind. It was easily guarded and it seemed as if Albel was always sizing him up, as though if he didn't keep up to date he would miss something. They began to circle each other once again, the swords occasionally touched all the while.

"Power rules all, so it shouldn't be any surprise when a ruler wants more of it," Albel continued, as he occasionally attacked Fayt. "It's when they get so gluttonous with power it controls them. I've have learnt that one must always be in control to be on their guard. The rest are fools."

Suddenly, Albel unleashed a flurry of sword swipes which Fayt managed to fend off. Fayt actually started to feel energized and attacked with some of his own flurries.

"Ha, not bad for a fool that sleeps surrounded by danger," Albel jeered.

Fayt ignored the taunt and focused on what move Albel would make next. "That still doesn't explain-"

"Palm of doom!"

Fayt almost cried out in surprise as he side stepped and blocked Albel's glowing claw with his sword. He then turned covering his back with his sword to change his perspective. That move had always shaken him when he saw it used.

"Scared, maggot?" Albel mocked.

"Not a chance." Fayt determinedly locked eyes with the older swordsman, and refused to back down. He maintained his attack stance and let out a very dangerous slash that Albel narrowly avoided.

After he recovered, he let out, "Hmph. Good, now I can really challenge you."

Though Fayt knew Albel probably couldn't see, he raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

"Ahh, yes…" Albel started up his predatory stalk again. "War. Glorious war. Every man fights for something, whether it be for his family or for personal pleasure."

"Speak for yourself."

Albel cocked his head to side slightly. "I do."

Fayt shook his head and took a quick step backwards as Albel's katana slashed downward towards his head. "I've noticed."

"Anyway, stop interrupting me fool," Albel snarled, as he scratched Fayt on his arm with his claw.

Fayt shook off the pain and looked up at him. "…" He's the one interrupting himself.

"More like it, fool." Another attack, then a feint to the side with a well placed air slash. "Too slow, fool."

"Ugh," Fayt sounded, it really hurt. It didn't make it any better that he was wet and tired.

"There cannot be kingdoms without war. Everyone fights for their share so conflict will always be there. Why not profit off becoming stronger or even loot when it is unavoidable?"

"That still doesn't make it right!" Fayt shouted above the rain and thunder. He was really starting to tired out, and he had a feeling he would get sick. Maybe he should've waited until later.

"Who said it was right?" Albel said lightly. "I said it was unavoidable. Sooner or later, somewhere, there' s going to be a war with willing participants. What if the country going to war needs to go to war with another country to make them understand their plights?"

"No country ever has to go to war for anything!" Fayt yelled confidently. "Every matter can be sorted out through-"

Albel let out a loud evil laugh. "Through talking? Reasoning with the enemy? Playing nice? Surely, after all that has happened you do not still maintain that mentality."

Fayt glared at him and clanked his sword against Albel's.

"Surely, you jest?" The flash of lightening showed Albel's disbelief expression. The next flash of lightening showed his face went back to it usual emotionless mask. "You are a bigger fool than I first thought."

Without warning, Albel disappeared and Fayt found himself on his back. Okay, I really wasn't expecting a roundhouse. He scrambled to get up, but the ground had turned into mud and was extremely slippery. He also took into account of the six foot man who had somehow wrestled his arm underneath him on his side, and had his other arm being held at the wrist with the one underneath him in a steel grip. The Crimson Scourge bit into his neck once again, only it pressed a little harder.

"Is wrong for a country to go to war because of low food supplies?" Albel hissed into Fayt's ear. "Or if their honor has been made a mockery of? Or just because their neighbors won't share? Or look down upon as if them can't be bothered with them? Or because their neighbors pilfer off of their hard work and give them less than they deserve?"

Fayt struggled to breathe and felt a burning sensation in his throat. It happened to be accompanied by the odd sensation from earlier as well.

"Well… that's… not… fair…" Fayt gasped. Rain was in his eyes and in his nostrils, and he wondered if Albel was just as uncomfortable as he was. Cold, wet, tired, and now Fayt felt hunger.

"Life isn't fair and never will be," Albel whispered, in his ear. Albel leaned over him and put a leg across his. Fayt looked out the corner of his eye to see Mr. Wicked lean in close to his face. "Stop denying what you already know. Life is struggle, pain, and blood. I just make the best of it. A person has to watch their back because anyone will stab you in it if you have one. You understand now, Fayt?"

Fayt unconsciously shivered and nodded.

"Good." Albel removed his death grip and blade as he stood up. He glanced at Fayt one last time. "Hmph." He walked away.

Fayt sat up and felt around for his sword. He felt it near his head and thought about how amusing it must've been to Albel to have his weapons lying so close to him. He got up and trudged slowly back to the inn.

--

"What the hell happened to you!" Cliff's voice grated on Fayt's ears and Fayt glared at him.

He wasn't in the mood at moment. He sniffled.

"You wouldn't to have happened to be rolling in the mud with a certain wicked person have you?" Cliff questioned.

Fayt waved him off and started upstairs. He stripped off his dirty clothing, and promised himself to apologize to the inn maids later, and took a bath. On the way back to his room his passed Albel.

"Goodnight," Fayt said softly.

Albel just looked as though he were studying him. "Night, fool." He went back to his own room.

Fayt just shook his head and went to his own room to sleep. On the way to unconsciousness, he wondered why Albel said his name the way he had.