The Draak: Part 2

Music theme for part two: Ours – As I Wander

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Fayt had stayed awake all night after the incident. He was extremely worried about his comrade. The soldiers at the castle had been summoned to investigate the corpses of the guards on the bridge, but Fayt knew something large and powerful had gouged out their throats before they even knew they were being attacked. He paced the room Albel and he had shared, his mind racing. Was Albel lost outside the city, injured and near death? Was he already dead? Fayt shook his head fervently; he refused to believe that Albel was gone. The man was just too powerful. But, his mind interjected, whatever that thing was, it took out two Airyglyphan guards very easily. He frowned at that thought. Since taking down Luther, the monster population had decreased down to the normal levels, and the monsters were no longer cause for concern. If they were, it was usually Albel and Fayt who were called, or even Nel.

Fayt idly wondered if Nel knew about such a creature as the one last night. He turned to stare at the sample of blood he'd collected and placed on the table. He crossed his arms over his chest. That was certainly not human blood. It wouldn't dry and become flaky like human blood. It remained a sticky black blob on the piece of Albel's armor Fayt had used. And that brought his thoughts back to the captain himself. He longed to know if Albel was alright; no one had seen him after he left the tavern. It seemed the creature had attacked him right after he left, from what he heard from the men in the tavern. They had also told of the man Albel had argued with. Fayt pondered on him as well. Who was he? Did he send a monster after Albel for upsetting him? Was he responsible? No one knew where that man had gone as well. Both Albel and the man had vanished from the city.

After finding the guards on the bridge, Fayt had returned to the tavern and gradually collected the remains of Albel's gauntlet. He supposed he would fix it later with the Craftsmen's Guild in the smithery. If Albel was alive, that is. Or maybe he would fix it anyway, to remember Albel… Fayt slapped himself. He really needed to stop acting like Albel was dead. He could be alive somewhere, but the evidence made Fayt's heart ache. Albel was his friend, whether Albel believed it or not.

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He must have drifted off, for the door banging open startled Fayt awake. He only just caught two long hair trails floating across his view from Albel's bed before the bathroom door slammed shut. He bolted up from the bed and ran to the door. "Albel! Are you alright! What happened?" He heard a growled reply of "Nothing!" and some cupboards being forcefully raided. "Do you need medicine? Are you hurt?" Fayt winced as he heard a cupboard door slam. "No, so just leave me alone damnit!" Fayt stepped back, hurt slightly at Albel's tone. But he was alive, and definitely himself. Fayt smiled at that thought.

"What happened last night in front of the tavern? Your screams woke up the entire town!" Fayt placed his ear to the door. He heard muttering and some louder curses, and the ripping of bandages. "It was nothing, so just shut up and leave me alone before I come out there and kill you!" Fayt sighed. He would just have to wait until Albel was ready to come out. He took a seat on Albel's bed again, his heart secretly happy that his friend wasn't dead. He was cranky, sure, but he was alive and cursing beyond the door. A cursing Albel was definitely better than a dead Albel, Fayt decided.

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It was nearly an hour before the door clicked open. Fayt immediately rushed towards Albel as he stalked out of the doorway. "Are you alright? What happened to your…" Fayt was about to ask about Albel's arm, but his question was answered by the extreme amount of bandages covering where the metallic appendage would have been. There wasn't any patch of skin showing anywhere. His bandaged covered arm was wiry, smaller than his normal arm. He still had the shoulder armor, but everything down had come off, including the hand piece.

"What? Are you done packing? I'm ready to leave this damn city." Albel started to walk towards the door, but stopped as he eyed his gauntlet. Fayt had placed the pieces on the table near the door. Fayt stared at Albel's back, wondering what he was thinking. The warrior lifted his bandaged hand, looking at his palm. He seemed to ponder his hand now that it was out in the open. Fayt stared at the bandages. How long had Albel kept his arm from being seen? What was wrong with his arm that he needed to wrap it entirely in bandages? Was the gauntlet meant to hide something? Scars, maybe?

Albel sighed and put his hand down. "…Hey, fool."

Fayt snapped back to reality. "Uhh, yes?"

Albel turned, and Fayt caught a glimpse of red eyes glowing faintly. 'His eyes never glowed before…' "I need my clothes repaired. We're going to Peterny."

"Your clothes?" Fayt asked stupidly. He looked down at Albel's attire, and saw immediately why Albel wanted to fix them. Everything was shredded. There were small bandages where Fayt supposed there were cuts, but the skirt was frayed and sliced apart, showing most of Albel's toned legs. His leggings were nearly gone, and his shirt had a large gash right through the middle, showing his bandaged torso. 'So that's why he took so long in the bathroom…'

"Yes, my clothes. I'd like to leave now if you don't mind," Albel griped. He reached for his cloak, but sharply turned his head as a knock came at their door. He pulled the cloak off the hanger roughly, shuffled immediately against the wall behind the doorjam, and covered his bandaged arm with his cloak. Fayt took that as a sign to answer the door himself. He crossed the room and gently pulled the door open, keeping his hand on the knob so as not to let the door smack Albel in the face.

There was a soldier standing outside. "Yes?" Fayt asked politely.

"Is this the room where Fayt Leingod and Captain Albel Nox are currently staying?"

"Yes, this is it. I'm Fayt, what seems to be the trouble?" Fayt saw Albel shudder against the wall, gripping his arm.

"The king wishes to see you immediately regarding the matter of last night's attack. He asks that both of you come as soon as possible."

"Uhh…" Fayt peered at Albel. What was wrong? Was he in pain? "We'll… be there shortly…"

"Thank you, kind sir." The soldier stepped away, saluted, and headed for the stairs.

Fayt pulled the door closed, finally seeing Albel. Albel gripped his arm under his cloak, gritting his teeth. He was in pain! "Albel, what's wrong? Are you bleeding?"

Albel growled, pulling himself from the corner to shove Fayt aside and head for the bathroom once more. As he passed, Fayt saw small traces of blood flowing down his arm.

"Albel, wait!" The door slammed shut before Fayt could get near. "Let me help you!" Albel was grunting in pain behind the wood barrier. "I don't need help, so lay off! Just get our things together!"

Fayt stared, half worried and half angry. Why wasn't Albel letting him help? They were comrades, they were friends. He wanted to make sure Albel was alright. He sighed, and began packing their things. They were going to see the king. Would he know about what attacked Albel and killed the guards? Fayt hoped to get some answers soon. It was bad enough that he stayed up all night worrying; now he was even more confused about what Albel's status was.

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It was another hour before Albel emerged again, this time the room cleared of all belongings, their two packs set up near the door. Albel stretched his neck, noting the sleeping teenager on his bed. Albel was still sore from this morning. And that damn bite was giving him aggravation. It had begun bleeding again while the soldier was here. Why it was bleeding dark blood, Albel will never know. Also, the part of his memory of his arm breaking seemed to be wrong. He could use it normally, as if the bone had never been cracked. He looked at his clothes, silently fuming at the thought of sewing them back together.

He walked over to the bed, watching the blue-haired boy slowly breathe in and out. Why was he offering to help so much? It was entirely none of his damn business. But, even before their last important battle with Luther, Fayt had still offered to help everyone. Why he chose to help Albel the most was the most confusing. And it was obvious from his lack of sleep during the night that he had remained awake waiting for Albel. Albel sat on the nearby bed and simply stared at the sleeping Fayt, thinking.

His eyes unfocused as he recalled the other night. It wasn't exactly easy to explain how or why he was attacked. The monsters surrounding the area were not strong like that, nor were they especially violent towards the townsfolk. And those eyes, Albel would always remember those eyes; deep, piercing, and almost hypnotizing. He unconsciously placed his hand over the bite wound, gritting his teeth. He would find whatever did this, he swore it. No person or animal attacked Albel the Wicked and lived to talk about it. That is, excluding his present company. This blue-haired boy was certainly interesting, Albel admitted that. He still had yet to find out the true reason Fayt decided to travel with him, especially over the company of that damn prissy brat who held a very big affection for him. Albel had not agreed with her from the first time they had met; she was just too... happy. Albel shuddered. Pink was the perfect color to describe that wench. She had not enjoyed Albel's company either. She always feared him, and that made him feel good. The others had forgiven his past, but she seemed to hold something against him. And when Fayt announced he was staying on Elicoor II with none other than Albel himself, she took it the worst. In some perverse way, Albel felt triumphant. He had won the silent battle between them; Fayt preferred his company over even his childhood companion's.

But, as Albel leaned back on the bed to stare outside at the setting sun, he really did enjoy Fayt's company. Never mind the annoyance; everyone annoyed him. But none other than Fayt could drop the guard Albel had put up. He was not sure when he had started to trust Fayt; he had a feeling it began after that night in Peterny when the fair teen had sleepily assured Albel he didn't hate him. But Albel knew full well if he were ever to be in a dangerous situation, Fayt would immediately and without question guard his back. Albel smiled to himself. It reminded him of his brigade before the war had escalated. The soldiers obeyed him without question, eager to please their fearless captain.

After Vox had been slain, and his failures forgiven, Albel had been given the rule of both his Black Brigade and Vox's Dragon Brigade. He had simply compiled them into one, so the soldiers now were either air units or ground units. It was a well-thought idea; even the king praised him for it. But he had no desire to remain a soldier in Airyglyph; he struck a bargain with the king, who did not wish him to resign. He would remain the captain, but he would be free to travel the world. It was a simple goal, but it held so much potential for Albel to truly find his place. He had questioned his fate after the day his father was taken from him.

His second part of the bargain was that Fayt was to be allowed the right to travel alongside him, and not be questioned, held against his will, or taken from Albel's side. At this request, the king had leered at him quite strangely. Albel simply sneered, and the king agreed, but with an air of amused suspicion. The blue-haired teen simply blinked in confusion, before hurrying after the warrior as he roughly shoved the doors open. They had traveled for nearly three months now, circling the continent and finding new and strange things.

Fayt stirred; Albel immediately trained his gaze to the teen's eyes as they opened. Fayt groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes free of sleep. "Albel…?"

Albel nodded once, and stood up. Fayt swung his body over to the side and stretched as he too stood up. "What time is it?"

"Late. Are you hungry?"

Fayt nodded, and Albel started for the door. He was about to shout for the keeper of the inn when he heard a loud gasp from behind. He turned, alert. "What is it!"

Fayt had his hand in his bangs, his face covered with guilt. "We were supposed to meet the king hours ago!"

Albel growled, dropping his guard. "I'm tired, I'm wet, and I'm hungry. The king can wait." He strode over to where his pack rested and began rifling through it. Fayt simply stared in shock. "But… aren't you going to get in trouble…?"

Albel shook with mirth. "Trouble? What could they possibly do to me?" He pulled out some warm clothes he always had but never wore. This was about the right time to wear them, with his usual garments in desperate need of repair. He began removing his armor, not noticing the blush on Fayt's cheeks. "They wouldn't be able to touch me. I'd kill them before they could even complain. The king knows we're still here. He can wait until we're damn ready."

He carefully worked his purple tunic off, pulling his hair trails through the neck hole. He then pulled the wool shirt on, grimacing at the feel of the material. He already missed his shredded clothes. He was about to start removing his boots, when Fayt gave a polite cough. Albel blinked, suddenly remembering he was not alone. He glared at Fayt. "You, bathroom. Now."

"Wha? Me? But you're the one who-.." Fayt heard that growl before it even started. "Okay, okay, I'm going! Geez.." The boy sighed, and trudged into the bathroom and shut the door. He heard the ruffling of clothing, and leaned against the door, his head down in thought. It seemed Albel was feeling better, that's for sure. But his arm… Fayt still wondered what Albel was hiding. And something else worried him further. After Albel had made the second retreat into the bathroom, Fayt looked more closely at the blood on the floor that had dripped from Albel's damaged arm. It was darker than it should have been…

He heard the disgruntled "Come out here" just barely, and turned to unlock the door. He took one look at Albel and stopped short.

The brigade captain was wearing a wool shirt, covered by a breastplate, which Fayt had never seen before. The shirt was tucked into black pants that widened near the bottom, giving room for hidden weapons above the same boots that Albel always wore. Around the man's waist was a belt with the Crimson Scourge securely fastened, and the shoulder armor that Albel wore on bare shoulders was back in place. The only major difference was the lone sleeve that covered the damaged arm, and the hand roughly bandaged until no skin was visible. Albel was frowning, pulling at the shirt collar uncomfortably. He still had his collar with the small bits of chain left on, which amused Fayt because he often thought of it as a dog collar; he'd imagined Albel breaking free and gnawing on someone's leg once. It wasn't his proudest moment when he burst out laughing at the katana-wielding warrior, especially when they were deep in discussion on how to get past a heavily guarded outpost into the region beyond. Albel had forbidden him to sleep in the same room for a week.

Albel gave an angry sigh of resignment, and threw the door open, scooping his pack up onto his good shoulder. "C'mon."

Fayt hurriedly threw his cloak on, pulling his pack over his back before hurrying down the stairs behind Albel. To himself, he reminded to get his universal communicator working so he could contact the others. He needed a high level research lab, something not found on Elicoor II.

If his hunch was correct, then something was very wrong with his companion. Something very wrong and very dangerous.

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End part 2

Weeee, bad second part, but very much needed for what's coming up. I dunno if I'm setting the characters up correctly. I hope that soon it won't matter, once the story really kicks off. If Fayt seems really OOC, just, never mind it, he's tough to pin down as far as temperament, seeing as he barely has one.