Part III
"Flight into the Darkness of the Soul"
Suddenly he found himself on the dirt road of a rural village. She lay in his arms, the life draining from her body…the regret mixed with finality; he had completed his mission, but what had he done in killing the one that he still loved despite everything.
"You did good, boy… But remember… You still couldn't do it…You couldn't catch me…" she said, turning her azure eyes towards him for the last time..
He screamed her name in the air, not caring who heard. All he knew now was that the women that he loved was dead and it was all his fault. A few feet away, his eyes locked with one of his traveling companions…a man whose aging emerald eyes returned his gaze with his and in that brief moment of contact, he realized that he was not the only one who had suffered this type of loss.
But why had he forgotten about that moment until now?
"Clive!"
Is that her voice calling me?
"Damnit, someone's here!"
He felt a nudge in his side and suddenly woke up. Clive sensed the presence of Georg looming over him. "What do you want?" he asked sleepily.
Through his blurred eyes, he thought he saw the older man shadowy silhouette drift towards the trap door. "Listen…" Georg whispered urgently.
Within a few seconds, the gunner bolted up as he heard a lone pair of shoes shuffling through debris on the floor above him, heading closer and closer to their hiding place. Clive quickly stood up and both men moved towards the trap door ahead of him through the darkness. "Oh great…" the gunner moaned quietly. "What do we do now?"
He could hear Georg rustling through his cloak. "Well I have some cheesecake left…when that gunner comes down here, I'll smash it in his face, you grab his gun, and we'll squeeze some info out of him in no time."
Clive's lip curled in disgust. How was that tactic supposed to help them fight a man who could kill from over a hundred feet away? "That's so unprofessional." He sneered, letting out a nervous snicker.
"I'm going to put that on your gravestone, boy." Georg laughed softly. "Professionalism doesn't matter too much if you're dead."
A creak directly above their heads, immediately ended their conversation. The person was lifting the trap door and letting more light into the cellar. They backed up into the darkness. "Let's do it." Georg said with finality in his deep voice.
Now the trap door creaked completely open and a medium sized figure started to descend the rope ladder. However, he didn't reach the bottom, because Georg quickly placed him in a headlock and smashed half of a chocolate chip cheesecake in his face. Clive frantically leaped over to the struggling pair and felt him up for the gun. However, within a second into his search, the guildmaster came to two very important conclusions. First of all, the he was a she. Also, he had met this woman before because a familiar pair of blue eyes met his in the dim light.
And boy did they look pissed.
Almost immediately, the gunner fell to the ground, gasping for breath due to a sharp kick in his stomach. Through his tears, Clive saw Georg let go of her, once he realized who he was dealing with. "Um, I'm sorry ma'am…" he stuttered.
The woman adjusted her blue beret and tried to wipe the sticky dessert off her, but only succeeded in continuing to smear it even further across her face. "Sorry doesn't cut it buddy! I'm here in the middle of the night, looking for someone and the last thing I expect is to be attacked…attacked with food of all things!" Lena snarled. "Now where is Guildmaster Clive? He's down here right?"
Clive's knees wobbled as he stood up, leaning against the wall. "I'm here, Lena." He wheezed, still recovering from her sharp kick.
"Bishop Sasarai thinks you're in immediate danger, so he sent me to take you back to the palace." She said, grabbing a handkerchief from underneath her blue cloak and wiped the offending desert from her face. "He gave this place as your last known whereabouts and somehow he figured you would be hidden down here."
To both Lena's and Georg's surprise, Clive began laughing hysterically. "Immediate danger?" he howled. "Immediate danger? Well his Reverence needed to be here a few hours ago, when I almost got my head blown off."
Scowling, Lena pulled a thin rapier out of the sheath on her leather belt and aimed it at Clive's throat. "Show some proper respect, Guildmaster, to Bishop Sasarai. He's risking a lot to save your life. You could show a little respect instead of being so ungrateful."
In a return gesture, the guildmaster pulled out Storm. "Well he could do a better job of it, sending stooges down here to do his dirty work rather than risking his own life. I nearly died tonight!" he retorted, starting to circle the Temple Guard.
"Stooge? Why you…" Lena and Clive lunged towards each other, weapons at the ready. Rolling his eyes, Georg managed to pull them apart, before any injuries occurred.
"Stop acting like children you two. Now, Lena, what does the bishop know?" he stated calmly, directing the question towards the fuming woman.
Regretfully and glaring at the gunner, Lena placed her sword back in its sheath. "He heard rumors of the disturbance in this bar and of two black cloaked men. So, the bishop assigned me the pleasure of dragging your scrawny butt back to the Crystal Palace to have a meeting with him at this ungodly hour. If we're quick, we can make it to the palace in about half an hour."
Her know it all attitude really started to annoy him. However, Clive couldn't see any way out of this mess than to listen to her. "Fine, let's go there then." He sighed.
The trio ascended the ladder, while it swayed and threatened to break from the strain of their combined weight. Georg whistled when he saw the abandoned bar. Almost all the tables had been overturned, and liquor and glass still coated the wooden floor. Due to the pale moonlight filtering through the broken windows, the whole place appeared creepy and surreal. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago, dozens of people sat in this bar, joyfully drinking the night away. Lena, Georg, and Clive now moved in front of the counter, each eerily silhouetted in the dim light. "By the way, who are you?" Lena asked Georg curiously.
The older man shook the Temple Guard's hand with way too much enthusiasm, Clive thought. "Georg Prime, ma'am." He said proudly
"Oh Georg Prime!" the Temple Guard exclaimed, smiling for the first time since she descended into the cellar. "I've heard so many stories about you! I didn't know you were friends with him." She shot Clive a disgusted glance.
He returned it with equal dislike. "Well, we're not really friends…" Clive spoke up.
"Only a year ago, we fought together in the Jowston Unification Wars." Georg interrupted, straightening his body and cocking his head to the side. Even through the darkness, the gunner suspected that the old man's eyes had misted over, in respect to past battles. "Those times were rough, but we managed to survive them. Clive definitely proved himself a worthy comrade in arms during that time. Only a true man could come out of those horrific battles alive…"
His blue eyes rolling up to the ceiling, the worthy comrade in arms shook his head underneath his hood in disgust. "What, was it, like maybe one battle with a rabid bear? The only mission we really traveled together on was to Sajah Village." Clive said hesitantly, silently cursing himself for bringing it up. "This has nothing to do with you, so go relive the glory days somewhere else."
"Nonsense!" Georg replied, sounded insulted. "You're an old war buddy of mine and I'm not going to let anything hurt you! Besides, it's been a while since this old body's been in a good fight."
"Look, Georg." Clive spat. "I'm not your friend, I'm not your war buddy. So we fought together a while back, big deal. I don't need any help from nobody!"
He started to walk towards the door, but then stopped in front of Lena. "And you…" the gunner said, glaring at her. "Tell your precious bishop that I'm not going to be begging for the few crumbs that he's giving me."
The gunner stormed off towards the entrance of the tavern. "Are you crazy?" Lena exclaimed. "There's men out there who want to kill you! Why won't you let Bishop Sasarai help you?"
"Or us for that matter." Georg commented, tilting his head to the side curiously.
"I really don't need this." Clive fumed. "Just leave me alone and go away!"
Without looking at them, the gunner turned around and stormed out of the bar. He jogged down the street for about a block and then suddenly stopped. Looking around, Clive noticed that despite his circumstances, everything in the city appeared so calm, almost surreal. People abandoned these streets hours ago, but the pavement almost seemed to shine, the barrels, glistening with drops of water from the recent rain. His eyes turned upwards at the dark blue sky, scattered with dots of light. On the edges of the horizon, clouds began to gather, white swirls of fluff highlighted by the glowing moon. He could not help but stare at its beauty and for a brief moment, his soul felt a bit calmer.
When Clive could finally tear his gaze from the nighttime sky, he found himself staring at his reflection in a nearby store window. Slowly, the gunner approached the piece of glass, which acted at a makeshift mirror. His hand touching the frigid window, he couldn't help but gape at his appearance. Red cuts and marks adorned much of his face; however, the most shocking touch to this picture was his eyes. The pale blue eyes drained of any emotion, just haunting, merely waiting for their time to go, to die. Clive turned away quickly, trying not to think that was what he had become.
Where could he go now? Hiding in the mountains, the forest.. for how long? How long would it take before the final shot, the final blow? It could take years, weeks, or even seconds.
Clive thought about that for a while. It wasn't like he had any family or close friends that would mourn his passing. Even the Howling Voice Guild, where he was born and raised, didn't want him anymore. He might as well give up, just stand there in the middle of the night and just wait for them to come and shoot him point blank. End it, quickly too. However, as the gunner continued to stroll down the empty street, he couldn't help but think of what Georg had said to him a few hours earlier.
I killed the woman I loved too.
How could he continue to live with himself after that? Clive couldn't claim to be an expert in dealing with loss; he had just pushed everything down, burying his feelings and memories long past. He looked up once again at the stars, twinkling merrily above him. They almost seemed to speak to him, like Georg, to move on, find a way to fight through this pain. But how? And how long would it take before he could be redeemed and freed from his sin?
Sighing, he absently wiped something wet from his cheek, wincing as it stung against his swelling cuts. Then, Clive realized that it was a tear.. from him. Angrily, he flung it away, cursing under his breath. That did it, Clive decided that he shouldn't even come here, should have ignore the bishop's summons and stayed in the Tower…away from Georg, Lena, Sasarai, or anyone or anything that promised him false hope.
Oblivious to his environment, the gunner failed to notice that his surroundings had gradually disintegrated into a drabber and run down section of Crystal Valley. Torn awnings partly blocked the dark azure sky from view and Clive plunged onward trying to find the route out of the city. He heard a loud grunt nearby and hastily ducked into a side alley, near a suspicious looking rune shop. As Clive peered around the corner, he thought he saw a young light haired man duck into a nearby alleyway... Frowning slightly, the gunner turned around to continue his trek of the major city. Unfortunately though, something blocked the alleyway. Two somethings, completely dressed in black cloaks and hoods, and sporting two pistols, their backs to him, chatting in this blackness of night.