A/N: Well...there's really not a lot to say about this chapter. Just that it took really long to write (sorry!) and I actually had this one proofread. By several different people, I might add (thanks!). So...does that mean it's a higher-quality chapter? I'll just let you read it and decide for yourself.

Just a side note...this is the most I have ever written for any story, as far as chapters go. There is hope!

Restless Spirit Chapter 10 – A Storm Approaches

It was as though the weather had it in for Filia that day, seeming to start from the moment the train arrived in London. In fact, as soon as she saw the tall buildings of the city in the distance, she also saw the dark clouds moving in, casting an ominous shadow in their presence. Filia could not help but shiver, and the chills weren't from the wind.

Indeed, once she, Val, and her two servants had unloaded all of her pottery that they could carry off of the train, she found herself stuck in the midst of a violent downpour. They all were standing next to the road underneath a booth of some sort, which did little to keep the rain from still drenching her and the crowd of other people also trying to seek shelter.

Val, George and Jacob were huddled together, holding an armload of pottery, all of which had been wrapped in order to keep them dry. Filia had insisted they do this. It really wasn't working very well, but they weren't about to argue with her, especially not in this case. Just by looking at her, they knew she was about to snap.

Filia was indeed not very pleased with the circumstances. She had come all of this way for what? To get stuck in the rain? There was no way she would be able to walk the entire five blocks to Gordon's antique shop in this weather. She did not want to get back on the train and bring her pottery back on another day, as she really did not have the money to pay for another train ticket, and would not have that money until she received another payment. Perhaps she should just walk it, anyway, regardless of the weather…but she wasn't thrilled with the idea of getting sick, nor her boys getting sick, and they most likely would if they had to walk all of that way to the shop.

What was she to do?

She hadn't been in the best of moods before she'd left for London in the first place. She was worried and angry with herself for being worried. Her last encounter with the ghost had brought on some disturbing thoughts. Had she truly angered him so much that he'd left for good? And why did that bother her more than she wanted to admit? Had he really deserved those things she'd said to him? But then again, had she really deserved to be treated the way he'd treated her? He was so confusing! One minute he was doing his best to aggravate her, the next he was tender and comforting her, and then once again he was being arrogant and rude. How was she to ever understand him?

She supposed that she never would, but it didn't stop her from trying. She thought she might have gained a little insight on his past, due to his outburst. He had been deeply affected when she had mentioned the woman from his past, which indicated to Filia that something terrible had happened between them. Just the look on his face, the raw anguish etched in every line…he had looked so much older then. Now, more than ever, Filia wanted to know what had happened and why he would stay in such a state of misery. She knew now that he was only trying to shelter himself from the world, trying to forget the past. But that wasn't possible, and she was beginning to understand why he had initially wanted her gone, but let her stay.

Filia knew that she reminded him of her.

She sighed, her mind troubled with too many thoughts. How could she do anything to help him? Did she even want to help him? It was possible that he was gone now, which would definitely take away the majority of her problems. However, it didn't erase the fact that she felt terrible about it. Curse him! As if he needed to confuse her more than he already had.

***

Xelloss watched her at a safe distance, invisible to everyone including Filia. He watched as her mind wandered, no doubt towards thoughts of him, and her expression went from distressed to angry to distressed again. He had watched her for the last few days, after the last fight. The state that he was in made it necessary to not speak to her…anything that she said to him would have had unknown consequences, and he was not about to lose his composure again.

But, oh how she confused him! One moment, he held her in his arms, and the next he wanted to strangle her perfect, soft neck. He would have, if he hadn't remembered…

That look in her eyes when he screamed at her, he had seen that look before, at a time when he had before lost control and acted without volition. He never wanted to see it again. That surprised, terrified look that also held a certain measure of understanding, which killed him inside. How could he explain himself to her? How could she have known?

She hadn't known then, and she didn't know now, he tried to convince himself. But it was obvious that he was causing her more grief than was necessary, and why, exactly, did that bother him? What was it about her that caused him to lose that part of himself that he had always hung onto…that part of him that had always defined who he was? He had lost his status and most of his powers, reducing him to no more than a wandering phantom without a destination. But he was still the Trickster, and could still derive pleasure from the pain of others. That would never change.

But not where she was concerned.

How long would it be before she remembered who she was? It was only a matter of time. The more she tried to piece together his past out of her own curiosity, the sooner she would realize that her past was intertwined with his. Their futures, however, could not be…should not be…

Even so, a small voice inside of him asked, "Do you not wish for a second chance? Now that you are free?"

Free, indeed. He would never be free. Neither would Filia be free if he continued to drag her down into his dark world. She would be happier, more at peace, if she never had to see him again.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a carriage pull up to the side of the road, and the man inside called out to Filia. Xelloss narrowed his eyes, and moved in for a closer look.

***

"Hello, Ms. Ul Copt! Good day to you!"

Filia was also jolted out of her daydreaming by the sound of someone calling her name. Startled, she looked around, and saw a large horse-drawn cab pull up beside where she was standing. A man leaned out of his window, calling her name again, and she smiled with delight.

It was Gordon!

"Hello!" she called, waving.

"I see you're stuck in this dreadful weather," he said. "Shall I give you a ride to my store?"

Filia was shocked, and silently sent a prayer of thanks Heavenward. "Thank you so much," she gushed. "I truly appreciate it. I thought I was going to be standing here all day!"

"It's no trouble at all!" he said, and motioned for the cab driver to help Filia with her things. Fortunately, there was also room for Val, George, and Jacob.

On the way to the store, Filia asked, "What made you drive by the train station?"

"I knew you would most likely arrive today," he said. "And this weather is terrible, don't you agree? Ah, for a sunny day like yesterday."

Filia blushed. "You came all that way just to get me?"

He gave her a charming smile. "Of course. I can't leave a lady in distress, now can I?"

Her blush deepened. Val rolled his eyes, and wondered if his silly mother had even noticed the gold wedding band on Gordon's finger. Apparently she hadn't.

***

Xander Ashworth was also not finding the weather to his liking. Of course, it probably didn't have much to do with how his day was going, but it certainly wasn't making things any better. Gordon was an hour late, but that wasn't unusual. Being a business partner to that overgrown, simple-minded, bumbling fool was not what he had had in mind as a career, but Xander wasn't about to let go of his position at the store. They had the best business of any other weaponry and antique store in the city, and even though Gordon got on his last nerve, he considered Gordon and his wife as friends. They were nearly impossible to deal with, though Gordon was easier to handle than Elena. A large shipment of brand-new, high-quality swords had just arrived that morning, and if trying to do taxes and pay the bills wasn't enough to ruin his day, the short-tempered shrew walked in and demanded to know where Gordon was.

Xander sighed. "Elena, he's always late. Don't you know when he leaves?"

"He left two hours ago! In the wrong direction, I might add."

"That's certainly not my problem if he can't ever remember directions. You know him better than I do…he would lose his head if it weren't attached to his body."

Elena fumed. "That jelly-fish brain! I told him I would be in here this morning to help him unload the new shipment of swords. I'm not waiting around for him, if he can't be here on time, he can unload them himself. It's a good thing I made the cab wait."

Xander wanted to note that every time a new shipment came in, all Elena did was stand back and make several loud and opinionated observations about each item while he and Gordon did all the work. But he knew Elena enough to know that disagreeing with her was not a good idea. He merely sighed and said, "Don't worry, I'll let Gordon know you were here, Elena. We'll take care of things."

"I'm sure you can. Tell Gordon to come home for lunch," she replied, annoyed. "See you."

Once the door slammed in her wake, Xander rubbed his temple wearily. She was enough to drive anyone insane. Perhaps she was why Gordon was as absent-minded as he was.

Almost as soon as Elena left, the door opened again and Gordon walked in carrying an armload of pottery. Following him was the violent-tempered blonde woman, her son, and two servants. Xander sighed again, and decided that he'd wait to tell Gordon that Elena had just been there. Gordon was incredibly lucky Elena hadn't been here to see him walking in with another woman.

"Gordon, the swords arrived," he said.

"Wonderful!" Gordon replied, setting the pottery down. "Where are they?"

"In the back. I'll get them."

Gordon turned to Filia and said, "If you want to, you can set up your pottery in the same place, next to the antique ones. I'll be back in a few moments."

Once all of her pottery was unwrapped and placed on the small shelves, she went back to the front of the store. Gordon and Mr. Ashworth were unloading the swords and placing them on the wall, or leaning against the wall. Val stared at them, amazed.

"Can I hold one?" he asked Gordon.

"Val, no!" Filia cried. "Definitely not."

Gordon smiled. "Ah, better not," he said, but pulled out a small pocketknife from his front coat pocket. "Here you go. You can have this."

Val grinned. "Thanks!"

Filia glared at Gordon, who only smiled and said, "Ah, every small boy should have a pocket knife. I had a fairly large collection of them when I was a boy. An' he looks to be a smart lad; I don't imagine he'll go about cutting things up that he shouldn't, including himself." He chuckled.

Filia sighed. "I suppose so…"

Mr. Ashworth handed Gordon a large, white sword and said, "This one came specially made. Some new material they're experimenting with that makes the blade shinier."

Gordon looked it over, and held it up to the light. "You're right, it does! It looks almost like it's glowing. Isn't that a sight, Ms. Filia?"

Filia was speechless, her eyes wide.

Where had she seen this before? The sword in Gordon's hand did, indeed, look like it was glowing. A glowing sword…a sword of light…

Such a strong feeling of déjà vu came over her, that she suddenly felt that she would faint. She placed a hand on her forehead, trying to get her thoughts together…but more images came to mind. A bow…a sword…a dark, swirling cloud. Thunderstorm? No…it was much more dangerous than that. A storm unlike any other…a storm that could have destroyed the entire planet. A feeling of intense dread and hopelessness settled over her, and she suddenly felt as though she could scream.

"Ms. Ul Copt?"

Filia opened her eyes…or she thought she opened her eyes. Had they been closed? What happened?

She didn't think she'd spoken that last question aloud, but Gordon said in a concerned voice, "You went terribly pale for a minute, there. Are you not feeling well? Do you need to sit down?"

Filia realized she was shaking. "I, uh, think I need to go home," she said in a trembling voice. "Come, Val. George, Jacob…could you go outside and hail a cab?"

"Aye, Miss," Jacob said, staring at her for a moment before running outside.

***

She was in the kitchen. Only it didn't look like her kitchen. Where was she? She knew that she was home…but it didn't look like home. She felt like a stranger there, even though some part of her knew that this was where she was supposed to be. And she was alone. Terribly alone, and confused.

Then she looked at the floor, and saw blood. Her confusion melted away to terror. What had happened? Where was Val? That was the first question that came to mind. Where was Val? Was he hurt? Had they finally found him?

Who had found him? Even her own questions were confusing her.

And then someone called her name. She turned and saw him.

Only he looked different. He was wearing a cape, and carrying a staff…a long, wooden staff with a blood-red orb at the end. His eyes were closed. He was smiling at her; a smile that, in her present state of mind, seemed malevolent and evil.

She heard herself speak, in a voice that she did not recognize. It was the voice of terrified agony. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You killed him, didn't you?"

He looked at her strangely, and for a moment she thought she saw concern flicker on his handsome face, a face that she had tried desperately to trust in the recent months. But he was feigning innocence, she knew it! He replied to her, "Killed who, Filia?"

"You killed my son!!!" she screamed at him.

His eyes opened then, and she beheld a look that she had never seen before. What was it? In her state of mind, she couldn't see…she couldn't understand. She could only understand pain. She had been so afraid that this would happen…that one day Val would become their victim, and she would not be there to save him. Her poor little boy. The blood…oh god, she didn't want to see…where was he? They would kill him, as they had been threatening to do ever since he was reborn. The poor little boy. He was defenseless. The cowards! It was her fault…her fault for leaving him alone for just a half an hour. She was a fool for trusting this…this monster!

A voice inside of her called for her to listen to reason…Val wasn't dead! He was asleep just down the hall. She was safe in England. No one was going to kill Val.

But she did not listen…could not listen. Her mind was drowning in the belief that they – whoever they were – had killed her son. She picked up the bloody knife on the floor, and chanted something, holding it in her hand, letting the blood drip over her fingers. She continued chanting, her eyes full of wild rage as she stared at the monster in her kitchen. She didn't know what she was chanting, but she didn't care.

Then she screamed one last time, her knife drawn – and her eyes flew open.

Darkness. The soft mattress beneath her. The cool chill of the night breeze through her window. She was in her bedroom.

A dream. It was just a dream. But it was a dream like no other dream…where she had been so sure that it was happening. She pressed her hand to her cheek, and felt the same tears. Her hand shook as she ran her fingers through her hair and sat up. She had kicked her blanket off of her, and the sheets were drenched with sweat. She felt as though she were losing her mind.

And her throat was hoarse, as though she truly had been screaming. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet on the cold floor. Standing on wobbly legs, she lit a candle and went downstairs to get a drink of water. She somehow wasn't surprised to see the ghost sitting at her table, a full glass of water in front of him. She sat down across from him without a word, and he slid the glass of water to her. She downed the entire glass, and regarded him silently.

"Would you like another glass of water?" he asked.

She nodded. He refilled her glass and sat back down.

"Well?" he said. "Are you going to tell me about your dream?"

She shook her head. "I don't…think I can."

"Sure you can."

"Why did you stay away for so long?"

"Because I had things to do."

She shook her head. "No, I mean the last few days."

He stared at her. "What did you think I meant?"

She stared back, unsure. "I…don't know…I feel very confused. My dream…it was like an alternate reality. You were there…and I…"

"It was just a dream," he said quickly.

"But it was so horrifying."

"Most nightmares are."

"This was different! It was as though it actually happened. As though I were reliving it."

"Reliving what?"

"I don't know…I can't even begin to explain it. I just hope that I never have another dream like it."

Silence fell over them once more, until Filia said in a small voice, "I'm sorry that I said those things. You must have cared for her deeply."

He shrugged. "It was nothing. And…I cared for her in the only way that I could."

"Did she know?"

"Know what?"

"That you cared?"

He looked away. "In the end…she might have…"

"That's so sad," Filia replied. She paused, and then asked, "Do I remind you of her?"

"Yes."

More silence. Filia drank the rest of her water and stood to leave. She stopped at the kitchen door and looked back at him. His back was turned to her, as he was staring out of the window at the rain. The rain itself had not let up, but the lightning and thunder had stopped for the moment.

"You know," she said thoughtfully. "I wondered if you'd left for good."

He smiled, though she couldn't see. "Not yet."