Part II
"No Easy Way Out"
Music rang out from the largest inn in Crystal Valley, The Dragon's Claw. In this building, travelers from far away lands danced and talked merrily amongst one another. The jovial atmosphere spread into every room of this establishment and every person in there now lived for the moment, releasing all their sorrow and heartache in the starry sky, if only to vanish for a short period of time. So, many a toast was performed, many a song sung, and the people danced to happiness and joy.
However, that happiness did not managed to penetrate one soul, who sat at the main bar counter alone. Completely covered in the darkness of his cloak, Clive idly fingered a mug of water set before him. Occasionally, the bartender shot him a dirty look, irritated that this mysterious gunner was too cheap to buy something a little harder; however, he didn't dare to disturb Clive. Once again, the guildmaster barely noticed his surroundings as his thoughts sheltered him from any outside disturbance. For almost two hours, Clive had tried to sleep in his room, but failed-every creak or squeak caused him to jump like a small child and sweat in anticipation for the final shot, for the end to come.
So finally, the guildmaster sat at the bar for almost half an hour now, trying to distract himself. Clive became so self absorbed in his water that he never noticed a young light haired man eying him with interest in the back corner of the main bar area. Dressed in green with grey pants, this man appeared to be carrying an assortment of weapons on his person…
This is how Eliza must have felt, for all those years. Clive pondered. Having me hunt her down, never having a moment's rest. Just knowing that I would come, but never knowing when I would arrive.
He clutched his mug, feeling the cold glass on his ungloved fingers. That woman had taken away his home, ever since his participation in the unification wars down south. Over time, Clive became more and more isolated from the other members of the guild. It ate away at him that everyone else (specifically the elders) in the guild treated assassination and death as a mere afternoon hobby. If someone crosses you, get rid of them, if someone looks at you funny, one quick shot takes care of the problem. True, death was inevitable, but didn't life have some sort of meaning to it?
"Hey there!"
Clive whirled around at the sudden sound and saw a vaguely familiar older man sitting next to him. Cautiously, he eyed him from head to toe. Black hair, fierce green eyes, rough tan complexion, brown cape and armor, held together with an emerald broach, enormous sword. Clive suddenly remembered that he had fought with this man, during the Duran Unification War about a year earlier. In fact, they had even traveled to Sajah Village together when…
"Georg Prime, isn't it?" Clive asked the older man warily.
Georg responded by slapping the younger man so hard on the back that Clive's face almost smashed into the wooden counter. "So good of you to remember my name, boy!" he beamed. "I recognized you from the minute I walked into the bar. How have you been?"
Clive, recoiling from the blow, forced himself to be polite. "Okay, I guess."
"That's great!" Georg replied enthusiastically "Here, let me buy you a drink!"
"Um, I'm really not much of a drinker…" Clive mumbled, trying to think of an excuse to leave. A dark creepy room started to sound better than hanging out with an overenthusiastic swordsman.
"I insist!" the older man proclaimed, simultaneously pulling Clive a bit closer and motioning toward the bartender. "Two of your finest beers please."
The bartender stopped midway through wiping out a filthy glass. "About time." he muttered as he quickly filled two clean mugs to the brim with dark brown liquid.
Clive stared at the mug of beer with a great deal of hesitation. Maybe he could just fake a sip or two and not actually have to drink this crap. So, Clive slowly lifted the glass to his tight lips. Georg watched him carefully." So, what do you think? I've been here before and there's no finer liquor anywhere on the continent in my opinion." he said.
"Fantastic." Clive replied dryly, resisting the urge to spit the nasty liquid into Georg's face.
The older swordsman leaned back his stool and gazed at the gunner intensely with his piercing emerald eyes. "So what have you been up to this past year?" Georg asked curiously. "I know that you're part of that gunner guild around here. Anything interesting going on with that?"
Clive frowned, becoming increasingly annoyed at Georg's presence next to him. Just because they had fought together during a war didn't mean they were buddies. He had no friends, no confidantes and anyway, what business did this man asking him such personal questions. As he slowly edged off his stool though, Georg asked another question, which made Clive tense instantly on his bar stool.
"So how're you recovering from that woman's death? The one you shot at Sajah?" the former knight asked, cocking his head curiously
Blood rapidly drained from Clive's already pale face. His head jerked up and he looked over at Georg with pure hatred. "Go to hell old man!" he shouted, oblivious that people in the bar area started to stare at them. "Leave me alone and mind your own business!"
The older man raised his black gloved hands defensively in front of him, mildly surprised at his companion's sudden temper. "Whoa there." Georg said quickly. "I didn't mean to offend you. Sorry I brought that up."
Ignoring Georg's apologetic words, Clive continued ranting, gesturing wildly into the air. By this time, even the musicians stopped playing to stare at the sight of an eerie black cloaked man screaming at a bewildered friendly looking knight. "What right do you have in getting involved in my personal matters? Go away now!" he shouted, just wanting Georg and the entire bar to vanish before him.
While yelling at the older man, the guildmaster had leaned closer and closer to Georg's face to emphasize each rage-filled word. In the middle of his rant though, Clive's mug suddenly exploded, spraying water and bits of glass into both of their faces. In a flash, the guildmaster looked down and in the center of the broken glass now scattered across the counter sat a small black bullet. "They're here!" he exclaimed in blind panic.
His black cloak flying around him, Clive threw himself over the bar, knocking more mugs along with him. Crash-landing in a sea of glass and liquor, Clive quickly sat up, cursing and trying to ignore the stinging cuts on his face and hands. Whipping out a small pistol, he quickly leaned against the far wall behind the bar, trying to figure out his next move. A few seconds later, Georg landed next to him, although less gracefully than his companion did, almost bumping his head against the counter.
"What's going on here?" he yelled at Clive, brandishing a large sword from his belt.
Before Clive could respond, more shots sounded off, apparently coming from the entrance to the Dragon's Claw. As people in the inn screamed, bottles of assorted liquor, perfectly lined on shelves above the bar, burst one by one, showering both Clive and Georg in yet more glass and booze. Hastily, both men shuffled forward underneath the counter, which provided some cover but not much. Glass still managed to fly under there and hit Clive in his now fully exposed face. His cuts hurting even more from the rain of alcohol, Clive suddenly noticed a small mirror hanging on the upper wall, across from him. Tilting his head slightly, Clive could see two black cloaked figures winding in and out amongst the fleeing customers in the smoky glass, heading directly towards the bar area. Carefully, he fired off a shot, which ricocheted off the metal edging of the mirror out into the main seating area. He heard a yell and immediately fired off another bullet.
Unfortunately for Clive, the mirror suddenly shattered, as his pursuers realized how he managed to pull off such a crazy and accurate shot. Sucking up his pride and lacking any other choice, Clive turned to his right in order to ask Georg what to do. However, his bar companion no longer sat beside him, seemingly vanished into thin air. Both furious and frightened from this sudden turn of events, the gunner could only continue to cower underneath the bar counter, listening to the high pitched sound of glass shattering and the subtle sound of footsteps coming closer and closer to his hiding place. Bracing himself for a side assault from both sides of the counter, Clive pulled out another pistol and pointed both of them towards either side of him, leaning forward from out of underneath the counter. His apathy had long since dissipated and now the guildmaster decided that he wasn't going down without a fight. Closer and closer the steps came, only a few yards away now…
His head turned back and forth, sweat dripping off his face into one of the many puddles of liquor and glass. Suddenly, he felt something grab his ankle and quickly Clive jerked it away. However, in the process, he lifted his head and crashed it on the top of the counter. Almost unconscious, the gunner felt his body drag on the rough wooden floor, scrapping against splinters and glass. For a moment, he became weightless, as his body fell through an opening. With a crash, Clive landed on a stone floor, gazing up at the counter, about ten feet above him. A bulky arm reached up and pulled the wine cellar trapdoor shut, completely absorbing them into total darkness. In the pitch-black cellar, Clive could dimly hear more shots and shuffled footsteps from the floor above. Out of breath, the gunner picked up his pistols and shoved them back into their holsters. Trying to figure out what had just happened; Clive frantically looked around in the darkness. "Georg?" he whispered urgently.
A gloved hand immediately covered his mouth, but with impeccable timing. For directly above him, Clive could hear the cracking of glass underneath two pairs of boots. "Damn it!" he could faintly hear through the floor. "I thought we had him."
Another voice answered his companion's, one a bit more raspy and harsh. "Well we both know that Clive can't teleport. What are we going to do now?"
More sounds of shuffling through glass and liquor reached Clive and Georg's ears. Despite his instincts not to move, Clive started to suck in air through Georg's leather gloves and his sweating palms absently stroked Storm's barrel beneath his cloak. Finally, one of the gunners spoke to break the silence. "Maybe that knight used a spell or something. They were talking right before we targeted him. Clive could have mentioned something to him."
"Yeah but how would he know about our plans? I think I've seen that knight somewhere before…." his companion answered in a familiar smooth voice to Clive.
"Don't worry about that right now. We need to hurry, if we want to catch him. Orders are orders." The other gunner said hoarsely.
The light tinkering of glass from above suddenly stopped and slowly footsteps began to fade in the distance. Very faintly, the inn door slammed shut. Cautiously, Georg removed his hand from Clive's mouth. "Now can I know what that was all about?" he asked impatiently to Clive.
As he placed his shaking hands at his side, the guildmaster grudgely admitted that Georg deserved an explanation especially considering that the older man had just saved his life. "Well, I'm head of the Howling Voice Guild as you already know. Some other members of the guild feel that I shouldn't be in charge because I don't agree with some of their politics. I had a meeting this morning with Bishop Sasarai and he warned me that the guild elders were after me. You probably picked up what happened next…" Clive finished lamely as he sat down on a nearby crate filled with wine bottles.
In the darkness, he felt Georg sit next to him on another crate. "Why's that? I'm calling a hunch that it also has to do that woman from Sajah…Eliza? That was her name right?" he asked, cautiously, not wanted to provoke Clive's anger again.
His hand continued to tremble as the sound of her name. "It has nothing to do with that woman." Clive snarled, once again becoming annoyed at the older man's nosiness. "The elders don't like me or my leadership period. I don't play their little games, so I'm guessing that's they put a hit out on me."
A crackling noise sent pricks down his back. Clive grabbed onto the crate, his fingernails digging into the soft wood. "Are they back?" he whispered harshly.
To his surprise, he heard Georg chuckling. "No, no. I just wanted a snack. Do you like cheesecake?"
The younger man stared through the blackness in total confusion. "Cheesecake?" he asked blankly
"Yeah it's a great dessert, a specialty from the Duran Republic. I like it with strawberries, blackberries, the chocolate chip kind is good too…" Georg said, continuing to unwrap the coveted dessert.
Clive shook his head, in disbelief. "This isn't the time to talk about dessert, old man. I need to find a way out of Crystal Valley." He spat.
"Well…" Georg said, in between bites "How about the Bishop? He seems to be a good friend of yours, helping you and all that. I've heard a lot of good things about him too. Sasarai doesn't seem to be as corrupt as the other clergy here, from stories I've been told."
Like someone like me would have any friends.
"Okay, well the bishop had some suggestions about ways I could leave Harmonia but he really didn't give me too many details about what to do really." The gunner sighed in frustration.
Georg stood up, spraying crumbs in the air. Some flew into the gunner's face and Clive tried his very best not to lose his temper again. "I have a plan, let's just wait out the night here and after that, we'll sneak out to see the bishop and find out what he can do. I've heard that he possesses the True Earth Rune, so I'm sure he can figure out something." He said confidently, his shadowy figure blocking the few strains of light from the trapdoor cracks.
All the stored up tension slowly dissipated from the cramped cellar. Clive felt a little more secure in the knowledge that there was at least a small chance of getting out of this mess. "Okay, good point, let's get some sleep." He sighed, his body suddenly weary.
"Oh and one more thing." The knight said mysteriously.
"What's that?" Clive asked, not really in the mood for guessing games.
"Are you ever going to get rid of the blood off your hands?" Georg said, appearing sympathetic, but Clive couldn't really tell.
"Whose?" Clive asked, even though he knew the answer.
"You might want to wash it off, if you ever want to move on with your life." Georg continued. "I think Eliza forgave you from what I could hear on that day so there's no use feeling guilty about it." Georg said.
His eyes narrowing, Clive gritted his teeth. "Look" he snarled, "You know nothing about it, you just happened to be a witness. So stop trying to be my buddy and let it be. It's not like we spent a lot of quality time together, during the Unification War."
In fact, they had never even been on a serious mission together Clive recalled. Well, save one though…the most important one of all.
"Can't you see that I'm trying to help you?" Georg replied, starting to sound a bit irritated.
"Why, thank you." Clive spat out sarcastically. "You're doing a great job, considering you know nothing about me or what I've been through!"
The old man sighed and the gunner could feel the edges of his cape slide past his cloak. "Don't be too sure, boy." He sighed, with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I killed the woman I loved too."
Clive laughed harshly. "That's too good to be true, I mean you're famous. You're Georg Prime! Why would you kill the woman you love? It's not like you're an assassin or anything."
"Well, I was for one night." Georg answered simply. "I did what I had to do, even though it meant that I lost everything, my job, my home, my friends, my love. I just couldn't sit back and let her destroy innocent lives anymore. Children died because of her, children who should playing in the fields,. Not dying from an army of blindly loyal troops."
"And just who is 'her'?" the gunner asked, curiously.
"Her Majesty, Queen Marguerite of Falena." Georg replied, regretfully.
"Oh, a queen eh. That tops mine anyday." Clive said, desperately trying to steer the conversation to a close. "Look, it doesn't matter who we killed; it can't help us now. In the morning, we'll part our separate ways, never to see each other again. I don't see the point in rehashing the past, we're not friends, never will be."
He could hear Georg get up and shuffle to a corner of the cellar. A few moments later, Clive thought he heard his companion nod off. However, just as he settled down in another corner, a voice startled him. "It's not good to be alone." Georg said ominously
The gunner didn't see any point in answering because really he didn't need some cheesy philosophy from an overzealous knight.. Clive laid down on the hard floor and stared into the darkness. Specks of light floated over his eyes, almost hypnotizing him, with their random patterns of flight. Slowly his eyelids began to close and the gunner wished for his dreams to take him to a place, where everything he thought he had wasn't gone. Gone and broken.