...hi. Sorry this one took me so long to write...heh heh. Inspiration is hard to find these days...-stares wistfully into the future as sappy music plays in the background- ...anyway, now that it's 4:30 in the morning and I have finally finished the sixth chapter...here ya go!
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Fayt cast a sidelong glance at Albel. The tension between the two companions had been considerably high since the incident a few nights ago, and neither had spoken a word to the other since then. Fayt had also noticed that the swordsman wasn't as quick to enter battle as he had been, usually being the one to deal the first blow. And yet, now it seemed that Albel was somewhat hesitant when entering battle…
Fayt sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking back towards the road. Aquios lay ahead of them, its towers still considerably far off, but close enough to see. The terrain was mostly flat in this part of the country, allowing one to see for miles. Staring at the looming shadows, Fayt wondered how much longer they would be traveling.
"Hey Nel…?" the blue haired boy asked, looking at the young woman to his left. Nel looked up at him and raised her eyebrows. "How much longer until we reach Aquios?" Before the red haired woman could answer, however, a mocking snort came from Albel's direction.
"Getting tired, maggot?" he asked, glaring at Fayt.
"No…" the teenager answered evenly, looking from Nel to Albel. "I just want to know how much longer until we get to Aquios, that's all." The swordsman shrugged, quickly becoming bored with the conversation. Nel cleared her throat and answered Fayt's question.
"We'll probably reach Aquios in a few hours, Fayt."
"Good." Fayt thought, sneaking another glance at Albel. The swordsman had been worrying him, and Fayt thought that the sooner they reached Aquios, the better.
Albel winced as pain shot through his right arm. It had been a few days since the swordsman had rashly stabbed his own arm, and yet the pain hadn't subsided yet. Usually, the pain would remain a dull throb for a while after the wound had been inflicted, but this time it seemed that he was being stabbed repeatedly over and over again. The swordsman delicately touched his right arm with the claws on his left, feeling the pain spread throughout his arm and shoulder. Pausing slightly in mid stride, the older man had to steady himself before walking again. Albel glared at his right arm, as if this alone could make the pain stop.
"I need to stop and sharpen my sword, maggots." Albel growled, unsheathing the Crimson Scourge and coming to a stop.
"Why? I didn't think that the Crimson Scourge even needed to be sharpened." Fayt replied, knowing that the sword his older companion carried was somehow magic. Albel glared at him, and then ran a finger down the sharp end of the sword.
"Its blade has grown disgustingly dull from all of the enemies I've cut down with it." The swordsman sneered, then walked off of the road to stand behind a thick tree. Dropping his sack on the ground, the swordsman propped the Crimson Scourge against the ancient bark of the tree. Albel then undid the straps that held the heavy metal claws onto his left arm and hefted it off of his shoulder, leaning it next to the sword. Rolling up the sleeve on his right arm, the older man had to clench his teeth as more pain laced through him. When Albel finished rolling up his sleeve, he ripped off the white bandage that he had bound his wound with, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw what had become of the deep cut. The wound was apparently infected. Thick, white puss was dripping down his arm. The flesh surrounding the wound was pale, almost having a green tint to it. The wound itself seemed raw, red blood mixing with the white puss, as it hadn't had a chance to heal. Sweat beaded on Albel's forehead as he realized the severity of this wound. If he didn't get a doctor to look at it soon, there was a high probability that he would die. Quickly grabbing his sack, the swordsman searched it until he found more bandage. Cursing himself that he hadn't taken more time to clean it properly, Albel tightly wrapped the wound once more. There was no point in trying to clean it now, since Albel heard his companions getting ready to travel once more and they would soon be in Aquios.
Rolling his sleeve back down over his wound, the swordsman quickly strapped the claws back onto his left arm and sheathed the Crimson Scourge. The blade really didn't need to be sharpened; Albel had found this out shortly after he had obtained it, though why, the swordsman did not know. Bending down once more to pick up his sack, the older man walked back to the road, watching as Fayt and Nel followed. The festering wound on his right arm throbbed once more, as if to remind the swordsman that it was still there.
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Fayt sighed as they passed under the stone gateway that led to Aquios. The teenager was glad to be back in a large town, hoping for nothing more than a meal and a warm bath. No doubt that the Queen would give them rooms at the castle, but Fayt had always preferred the local taverns to the large, spacious rooms that royal families seemed to love so much.
The teenager was also growing more concerned for Albel. The swordsman hadn't spoken much after they had stopped. He hadn't even given his usual snide remarks concerning Fayt's and Nel's conversations. Albel was also looking pale, paler even than when the swordsman had gotten shot by the Vendeeni during their journey to save the galaxy.
"Fayt?" the blue haired boy heard Nel ask, "Are you ready to speak with her majesty?" the young woman finished, putting her hands on her hips.
"Um, not yet, Nel. Could Albel and I first get our rooms at the tavern?" Fayt said distractedly, glancing over at Albel, who was staring at a group of villagers. Nel sighed.
"Her majesty would greatly appreciate seeing the both of you right away, but I suppose it can wait. The two of you probably need to rest before you speak with her majesty. I'll arrange for two rooms at the tavern on the main street to be saved for you two. I shall expect that you be in the audience chamber in…three hours." Nel said, nodding her head to each before she turned to walk through the castle gates.
Fayt sighed and looked back to Albel, who was watching the same group of villagers as they fought over the price of a large white chicken. The poor bird was squawking and losing its feathers as two men yelled and shook their fists at one another.
"Come on, Albel." Fayt sighed, shaking his head slightly. His older companion could become interested in the strangest of things, sometimes. Albel turned around slowly and fell into step next to the teenager, their feet dragging in exhaustion.
Once they came upon the inn that they were to stay at, Fayt and Albel were taken to their rooms by a short, bustling woman, who said that she was the innkeeper's wife. The woman, it seemed, never stopped talking as she showed Albel first to his room, and then Fayt to his. Their rooms were down the hallway from one another, each one containing one bed and a chair that was set up next to the small fireplace. Fayt closed the door to his room and threw his backpack and sword onto the ground rather clumsily, then collapsed onto his bed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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"E…Excuse me!" Fayt woke up to a sharp rapping on the door to his room. Groggily, Fayt stood up and stumbled to the door, pulling it open enough to see a young girl standing in the hallway with a frightened look on her face.
"What do you want?" the teenager asked grumpily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Um, the…the man you came here with, he…he's…" the girl said, fidgeting nervously with the apron that was tied around her small waist.
"What? Albel?" Fayt offered, thinking that his older companion had gotten into trouble with the other guests staying at the inn. The swordsman's temper usually did get them kicked out of the inns that they had tried to stay at in the past, making it almost easier to just sleep outside.
"Y…yes, he…passed out. He fainted a…and the people staying in the rooms next to him reported a loud noise, like a 'thump', coming from his room…" the girl stuttered, glancing from Fayt to the rooms down the hall. Fayt pushed rudely past the small girl, now fully awake, and jogged down the hallway to Albel's room. Pushing open the door, Fayt saw the swordsman sprawled on the ground, an arm tossed over his head. Quickly bending down next to Albel, the teenager put his hand to the older man's forehead, but hurriedly recoiled. Albel was burning up. Fayt stood back up and ran back outside of the room, calling to the young girl and telling her to fetch a doctor. Racing back to Albel's side, the teenager smoothed the wet hair that was plastered to the swordsman's forehead back. Fayt then gingerly moved Albel's arm so that it was lying next to the swordsman's side, noticing that the unconscious man breathed in quickly when he touched Albel's lower arm.
Fayt turned when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps reached his ears, finding to his relief that a doctor was finally here. The doctor ducked into a crouch next to Fayt when he saw Albel on the ground.
"What happened?" the old doctor asked, his brow furrowing.
"I…I don't know!" Fayt exclaimed, unable to keep the worry from his voice, "He was looking a little pale the last few days that I had been traveling with him, but I hadn't thought it was anything serious…" the teenager trailed, glancing from the doctor to his companion.
"Alright. He seems to be suffering from a very high fever, which we can take care of. I doubt it is anything severe, so don't worry too much." The doctor said, placing a hand on Albel's forehead.
"Wait. I think there might be something more. When I moved his arm, he inhaled quickly, like he was in pain…" Fayt said, pointing to Albel's right arm. The doctor looked down to Albel's arm, then moved away from the swordsman's side so that he could get a better look at where Fayt was pointing to. The doctor rolled up Albel's sleeve, raising his eyebrows when he saw the white bandages tightly wrapped around the swordsman's arm. Looking to Fayt, the doctor looked back down to the bandages when he saw the teenager simply shrug with a surprised look on his face. Quickly unwrapping the bandages, the doctor heard a small gasp come from the boy next to him when Fayt saw the deep gash in Albel's arm.
"Please, leave me and allow me to do my work. This may be even worse than I expected. I shall be sure to notify you if his condition changes…for the better or the worse." The old man said, placing a comforting hand on the blue haired boy's shoulder. Fayt nodded, all the color rushing from his cheeks, and stood, turning to walk towards the door. Looking over his shoulder at Albel one last time, Fayt hung his head and closed the door behind him.
The doctor looked back at the infected wound. Pulling his bag full of medical instruments open, the old man quickly grabbed a couple of jars and brought them nearer to his face, inspecting them closely. Nodding, the doctor set the salves down and put his hand back in the bag, this time bringing out a bright white piece of cloth. Tentatively wiping the wound dry of any blood or puss, the old doctor set the cloth down and grabbed the jar nearest him, twisting the cap off. The doctor then tipped the jar over the wound, a stream of green liquid flowing into the deep gash. Once satisfied with the amount of medicine he had poured over the wound, the doctor reached into his bag and brought out a set of sparkling needles and a spool of thick, medicinal string. Deftly threading a short piece of string through the eye of the needle, the old man started to sew the gaping wound shut. When the doctor had finished tying the last piece of string into a knot, he grabbed the last jar and twisted it open. The thick, waxy salve was spread evenly across the swordsman's arm, covering the stitches. Reaching into his bag once more, the doctor brought out a fresh bandage and wrapped the white cloth tightly around Albel's arm, sighing deeply when he secured the piece of cloth so that it wouldn't fall off. The condition of this patient wasn't good, but at least he was stable for now. The old man promptly packed the tools he had used back in his bag, and stood to go and speak with the blue haired boy.
Once he opened the door, however, Fayt was immediately in front of him, asking the old man questions and straining to see Albel. The doctor put up a hand, asking for the young man's patience, then moved back into the room with Fayt right behind him.
"I'm not one to elude as to what the truth might be, so I'll just come out and say it." The doctor said once he got into the room, "His arm is very infected. I have stabilized his condition, but only Apris knows whether he'll survive. Here, give him this medicine twice every day." the old man said, handing a bottle of liquid to Fayt, "He might wake up in a day or two, should the gods allow. If he doesn't, however, make sure he swallows that medicine. If you notice his condition getting worse, make sure you contact me. I shall be sending my apprentice daily to check on him." The old man finished, moving to stand in front of Fayt, "Now, help me move him onto the bed so that he might be more comfortable."
Fayt nodded and crouched down in front of Albel, grabbing the older man around his shoulders, being careful not to touch his lower arm. The old doctor grabbed the swordsman around his ankles, and together they lifted the slender man off of the ground and moved him to the bed. Once that was done, the doctor looked back to Fayt and nodded.
"The best of luck to you." He said, then left, gently closing the door behind him.
Fayt walked over to the edge of the bed and sat next to Albel, looking down into the swordsman's face. The teenager noticed that Albel's breathing was ragged and that the older man was sweating. Fayt walked back out of the room and into his own, searching his backpack for a spare piece of cloth. Upon finding it, the teenager walked, in a daze, into the common room and asked for a pitcher of water. Taking the cold pottery pitcher back to Albel's room, Fayt dipped the cloth into the cool water and laid it over the swordsman's forehead. The young man was somewhat relieved when he saw Albel's breathing steady, and then sat back down onto the side of the bed.
"You idiot…" Fayt thought, staring into the older man's sleeping face, "why didn't you tell us that you had gotten hurt?" the blue haired boy knew the answer to his own question, and smiled grimly when he thought about it. Albel had always been arrogant and prideful, and Fayt doubted that anything could change that.
Yawning loudly, the teenager realized how tired he was. He had gotten maybe an hour of sleep before that young girl had knocked on his door. He hadn't gotten much sleep and was tired…very tired…
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Nel stormed through the streets of Aquios.
"Those two had better have a good excuse as to why they didn't come…" the young woman thought angrily to herself, reliving the embarrassment she had gone through to explain to the busy Queen what had probably happened.
Stomping up the inn's steps, Nel flung the door open and walked up to the innkeeper, jabbing a finger into his face.
"You! What rooms are Fayt Leingod and Albel Nox staying in?" the red haired woman all but yelled, scaring the innkeeper terribly.
"Umm…let's see…Fayt Leingod…yes…Albel Nox…They're staying right down that hallway, ma'am." The innkeeper stuttered, pointing frantically towards the nearest hallway. "The first room on the right is Albel Nox's, and the last door on the left is Fayt Leingod's…" Nel glared towards the hallway and walked away from the flustered innkeeper.
Nel walked quickly towards the nearest door, not caring whether or not it was Albel the Wicked's, and knocked sharply on it. When no reply came, the young woman angrily opened the door and stepped inside of the room, looking around for the tall man.
"Hey…!" Nel started to yell, but stopped abruptly when her eyes fell upon the bed that was in the middle of the room. Albel slept, stretched out on the bed, with an arm tossed lazily around the shoulders of none other than…Fayt. A blanket was wrapped tightly around their two sleeping forms, and was pulled up to their waists. The young woman blushed and ran out of the room, closing the door loudly.
Once she got outside of the smoke filled tavern, Nel started back towards the castle. Now she knew why they hadn't gone to the castle!
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"Mmm…?" Albel moaned, waking up when he heard the noise of a door being slammed. Opening his eyes, the swordsman squinted around the room, trying to figure out what had happened.
"Oh…yeah. That." He remembered, looking over to his right arm. Albel knew he had fainted, which annoyed him somewhat. Ah, well, at least Fayt didn't know he had fainted… Albel's eyes widened when he noticed that the pain in his arm had subsided, at least for the time being, and that he was now sleeping in a bed. The older man could have sworn that he had collapsed onto the ground…Then Albel noticed a slight pressure on his left arm. Looking over to the left side of the bed, the older man was stunned to see the top of a certain blue haired boy's head.
"What the hell…?" Albel thought, wondering why the teenager was curled up next to him. The next thing the swordsman realized was that his arm was slung over Fayt's shoulders, which confused him further. He didn't remember putting his arm around Fayt…
Sighing, Albel put his right hand to his forehead, only to feel a cold, wet cloth draped there. Pulling the cloth down from his forehead, the swordsman stared at it in bewilderment for a second before throwing it across the room. Albel didn't know what the hell was going on, but sleeping was easier than trying to figure it out. Closing his eyes decisively, the older man felt himself relax and fall back to sleep, the knowledge that Fayt was sleeping next to him somehow comforting.
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poor, poor Albel. He's so confused...
please review!