Go Canada.
www.sympatico.ca

Part I: Dreams May Not Be Forgotten

Lufia sighed in her sleep, drawing the thick homemade quilt close to her skinny frame. She was shivering underneath the blanket on the snowy Christmas morning in the year 654. As she curled around the blanket, the heat made her warm and slowly she sunk back unto her dream, her left arm curled around the pillow and the other dangling off the bed.

Lufia dreamed of when she was a little girl out of all things, which disturbed her. She hated her childhood memories because of everything that happened to her. But now, she was playing in the snow with her best friend, Devur. The two were outside of the Sorcerer's Cerpreve, where they usually played. It was a white Christmas and Lufia's hair was covered in snow. She seemed to enjoy the snow and playing tag with Devur.

Devur laughed as he held out his tongue and caught a snowflake. "Hey, Lufia," he asked, "why don't you catch snowflakes?"

"C-catch snowflakes?" Lufia's lavender eyes looked to the red-headed boy with confusion. "Why would I do that, Devur?" Slowly she blinked innocently and Devur sighed.

"You don't know why?"

Again Lufia shook her head, some snow coming out of her hair, revealing rich, lavender hair. "No. Why would I, Devur? It's childish."

"You act too grown for your age, Lufia."

Lufia, who was looking at the snow-covered world around her, looked to Devur. "You think so?"

"Lufia," Devur replied, taking her hand in his brown-colored gloved one, "I know so. You take the responsibility of the Sorcerer's Cerpreve on your shoulders. You stay home with Roman and help him then getting a basic education from Sayfaia."

Lufia huffed as she started making a snowball angrily. Devur and her had several conversations like this before. "I don't like Sayfaia. You and Roman know that. The woman is stuck-up. Besides, it's also how all the knights get their information . . . through us."

"I can live without the information, Lufia," Devur said scornfully, knowing that she was right. "But you're almost eleven years old. You act like you're almost sixteen. You should be a child." Devur took the hand that he held hers in and put it up to his face. "You need some time to yourself."

Devur Tranvent knocked loudly on Lufia's thick wooden door, sighing in an exasperated matter. He knew for a fact that Lufia would not be up; in fact, he knew that his best friend (Or his fiancée, as everyone knew her by, nowadays) would not wake up unless it was to the sound of either to her father or his voice in the morning.

"Lufia!" he called loudly. "Are you up yet?!"

He was met with silence . . . just as to be expected, he thought.

"Lufia!!" he yelled once more. "You better wake up, or else I'm coming in!" His hand reached for the doorknob. Usually he was met with a sleepy grumble or a 'I'm awake' or a 'Go away' or a 'Come on in, I'm dressed'.

Still there was nothing.

"That's it!! I'm coming in!!"

Devur turned the knob back fiercely, his hand shaking as it turned. Then he threw the hand out, expecting to see something bad happening to Lufia.

Instead he found her sound asleep on the bed, with one hand dangling over the bed and one curled around the pillow. Her light sea green sleeve to her nightgown was trying to eat her hand, it seemed, as it crawled up her arm. Lufia snorted in her sleep once, which made Devur laugh.

He slowly surveyed the room; the blinds were closed and the room looked like a darkroom for pictures. When he walked, he stepped on Lufia's dirty underwear from three days ago and wrinkled his nose. "When does Lufia do laundry?" he asked himself in a whisper. "And to think, I'm going to be living with this woman . . . she scares me with just the way her room looks . . ."

Slowly he made his way to the bed and took her hand in his, noting how soft her hand was. Lufia blushed deeply and Devur grinned. That was one thing he loved about Lufia: he loved making his fiancée blush. And she is an easy blusher, he thought to himself. "Oh, Lufia," he whispered, "you look as beautiful as your Priphea flowers. I wonder if there are any in bloom on Christmas. They would make a wonderful Christmas gift on you."

Devur saw her tiny lips curl up as she slept and she laughed, her eyes blinking open for a minute, looking fully at him. He could tell she was still asleep, however, for there was a dreamy look in her deep lavender eyes. Then she turned away from him and buried her face into the pillow, moaning.

"Merry Christmas, Lufia," me murmured into her ear, kissing her cheek.

Lufia's eyes softened at Devur's suggestion, wondering what exactly he was up to. "Oh . . . really?" Lufia blinked softly, innocently. "Well, I know that I have been working a little too much. Even Roman has told me that . . . "

"Lufia, sometimes you can be so stubborn."

The girl sat on the ground, Indian-style. "Sometimes? I thought it was all the time, Devur." Lufia giggled, pulling him down on the ground as well.

"Hey!" he yelled, falling on his stomach. "The ground is cold, Lufia! You really should have a cold on!" He sat up and, still holding her hand, brushed off the snow with his free hand. "How can you sit on the ground like that?"

Lufia shrugged and shook her head, the loose snow falling out of her hair. "I don't know, Devur. I guess I just can."

"Well, here," Devur told her, letting her hand go. "Take my coat, will you?" He shrugged out of his coat and put around the slender girl's shoulders, seeing her shiver. "And you are lying, Lufia. You are cold."

Lufia huffed as she accepted the jacket. "Thank you."

"Lufia, you really need some time to yourself," Devur started again in concern. "I'm getting worried about you. I'm afraid for you."

Lufia glared at him angrily as she held the snowball in her hand. "How dare you tell me what you think I need, Devur Arran Tranvent!!" she screamed as she threw the snowball at him.

It was at that part that she punched Devur in the face; on the left cheek, to be precise, pretending to throw the snowball at Devur in the dream. Devur knew that something was wrong and tried to hold Lufia down to the bed. It was at this that she began to struggle and cry.

"Let me go, Devur!! I was only playing!! Owww!!" the woman on the bed thrashed from his grip violently. "I just threw a snowball!!"

Now Devur was confused. A dream with him and Lufia? Snowballs? Something else was going on. Still, he would let her sleep, and see.

The snowball hit him on the cheek and Devur felt the coldness of it. "Lufia!" he giggled in childish glee. "Now you're really letting yourself act like a child!"

Lufia folded her arms across her chest, huffing in mock anger. "Humph. Well, if you say so, Devur. I still think you're being too childish for my liking."

Devur sighed. "Ahh, come on, Lufia!" he whined, gathering snow in his hand and looking around, trying to see if any other kids were coming around them. "You need to let yourself have fun! It's Christmas Day and you're not letting yourself be a child! Why--why you would not accept gifts from Roman!"

"I didn't--I--I--"

Devur came from behind her, the snow now in the form of a snowball and he threw it at her back, connecting it with her. It slid down her neck and into her dress. She squealed in delight and he tackled her to the ground, sitting on her stomach. "You do deserve a friend and a father," her muttered to her. "Really, Lufia. You do."

Lufia's eyes started to grow wide. "Devur . . . " Her voice started to shake. She did not know why, but she was starting to get frightened. A thing of fear was starting to set in her mind. Lufia knew that she needed to trust instinct. It got her out of more then one situation many a time. "Devur . . . please . . . let me go!"

"Lufia?" he asked her, concerned. He was confused. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Just let me go . . . " she continued to whimper. "I'm getting scared now. . . Can you just let me go?"

Devur laughed, thinking that Lufia was just joking around. "Lufia, I'm not hurting you! Just--"

However, the many times that her step-father and the abusers of her past came back to her in her past and tears welled up in her lavender eyes, slowly falling down her cheeks. "Devur, by the Goddess Herself, let me go! I'm frightened!!"

Devur stood up and growled deeply in his throat and sighed, looking at his friend cry hysterically. Then he pulled her up by the sleeve of her dress and it ripped, throwing her back to the ground. Lufia cried, but he pulled up again by the dress again, this time by the chest. She screamed, but he slapped her in the face. "I don't care. Just stop your pathetic whining," he hissed as she started to change his form in front of her, a red light shining all around him.

Devur was now worried as he saw Lufia scream and cry in her sleep, thrashing in the blankets. What is she seeing that is so horrible? he thought to himself. Lufia's dreams are usually tormenting to her, and I know this . . . but I know now that something else is going on . . .

Devur was pulled out of his thoughts as the innkeeper of the Sorcerer's Cerpreve rushed up the stairs to his daughter's bedroom, hearing her screams. At any other situation, it would have been funny to see him in his current attire, the knight of Alekia thought: clad in only boxer shorts, Roman Narobyn was the least likely person that Devur thought he would see in that type of attire. But there he was standing there, in that, because Lufia was flipping out in her sleep.

"Well?" Roman asked, looking at Devur with a non tolerant look on his face. Then he realized what he was wearing and shrugged. "Yes, even an old man wears boxer shorts to bed, Devur. What of it?"

Devur could not help but crack a smile. "Roman . . . The fact is . . . you're an old man. Old men usually are in--"

"They're in nursing homes because either their wives have passed on or because they cannot take care of themselves," he answered for him. "Now, how is Lufia? I came in here to see why she was screaming again, not why I am in my current attire." He looked at her anguished face. Her forehead was creased with lines on it, like someone would when someone is thinking deeply. Tiny pink were pressed together, as if she was keeping a secret she was sworn not to tell. Slender arms and legs intertwined together, curling herself into a perfect ball, her lavender hair on her porcelain skin. But her skin was broken out into a cold sweat.

"She was dreaming about me, her and snowballs," he answered, his face hiding his cheek. "She hits pretty hard, too," Devur muttered, rubbing where she hit him. "But I think she might be dreaming about her past."

"Is that not why she called you, Aguro and Jerin together on this Christmas Day?" Roman asked Devur, sitting on the bed next to Lufia, wiping her hair off her face. "Hmm . . . her face is in a cold sweat, Devur. Get me a bowl of water with a cold rag. There should be a bowl in the bathroom with a dry rag on it."

Devur headed out of the door, calling out his answer, "Yes, it is. Actually, it was both of our idea. Lufia was missing the company, as was I. I missed the adventure and she wanted to say something that she wanted to reveal that even I do not know."

By this time he had reached the bathroom, which was next to Lufia's room. It was a simplistic bathroom, with a toilet, a sink and four white walls. The room was clean, thanks to Lufia's cleaning skills. Everything was in its place. There were no pictures on the walls to decorate it, nothing on the sink, the toilet or the counter, which showed other people that they had to bring their own things. However, there was a roll of toilet paper in the disposal so people could use the toilet.

Slowly Devur picket up the ceramic blue bowl that Roman had left on the counter with a matching rag and took the rag out of it, holding it under his arm. Then he turned the water faucet on, filling it with water. He heard Roman's voice then when he turned off the water and was heading back into the room.

"Lufia's going to tell you about her past."

Devur blinked as he handed Roman the rag and the bowl. "Her past? What do you mean? As a Sinistral or as Lufia?" He walked over to her blinds to let some sunshine into the room, but there was no sun. It was a white Christmas outside. "Finally. The first time in ten years, there's a white Christmas, Roman."

Roman smiled wanly. "Yes. And Litara never even got to see one. Funny, is it not? I promised her that."

"Litara?" Devur asked. He now walked slowly to a chair next to Lufia's bed, his feet scuffing against the purple tiles. "Was that Lufia's mother?" The red-headed knight sighed as he ran a hand through his unruly hair and flopped himself down on the chair.

Roman nodded. "Yes. She was a pretty lady . . . "

Lufia then began to scream hysterically, tears rolling down her cheeks. She tossed and turned on the bed, screaming, panting heavily. Roman put the rag into the water, trying to wipe the sweat off her forehead, but she screamed at his touch. "Devur, by the Goddess Herself, let me go! I'm frightened!!!"

"Devur!" Roman yelled, "hold her down!! She needs to be restrained!"

Devur leapt out of the chair and grabbed Lufia's wrists from where he was standing as he was crawling on the bed from his knees, messing up her baby blue sheets. He did not care though as she thrashed, screaming and crying. Devur finally managed to throw one leg over her stomach, then the other, pinning her abdomen to the bed; the knight felt like her was squashing as he sat on her. "Come on, Roman!"

The changed figure was hideous ugly and frightened Lufia to no end. Devur mysteriously grew from her height to Romans; then he hovered--no--towered above the little girl--and then stopped expanding. He (and for some reason, Lufia always knew it changed into a he) had long orange-red hair that seemed to bounce whenever he walked. The piercing emerald eyes gazed through her and she saw him for what he really was: a conniving thief, an empty draining life force. Lufia's senses were screaming at her to watch out for him.

His body was darkly tan; his muscles rippled from his arms and chest. It was the chest that Lufia studied. So this was where the scar on his bare right breast, she thought to herself, which, she judged, must have taken a long time to heal, based on how thick the scar was. The veins were thick and contorted, pumping in a fast notion across his body. His dark red lips curled into an evil smile. "Well, we meet again, my dear Lufia."

"Why Devur?!" Lufia screamed. "Why?!" She wrapped her hands around her stomach, trying to curl herself into a ball while she was still standing. "You--NO!"

The figure slammed his hands on her shoulders as she cried, shaking them. She was traumatized; nothing could pull Lufia's gaze away from the orange-red headed figure. But Lufia screamed, "Just get away from me! LEAVE ME ALONE, BRYANT!!"

Still Bryant shook her, "Lufia! Wake up! LUFIA!"

"Lufia! Wake up! Lufia!" Devur screamed loudly as he continued to shake her wildly. "Come on, wake up, girl! I know you can hear me!" He pushed her back down on her bed while he got up off her stomach with his knees. Lufia gasped for air loudly and as he stood, his fiancée opened her eyes, staring at the two.

"Devur?" Her voice shook as she spoke to the red-head. Then she looked to her father, who was on the other side of Lufia's bed. His blue eyes looked worried as he looked to his daughter, who was shaking on the bed. "It was horrible . . . the dream . . . I saw that man coming after me as you again . . . " Her breath shook and Devur knew that she was having a panic attack again. His arms came around her and she rushed into his embrace, hugging him close to her.

Roman looked consolingly to the knight, then thought of what to say. Yet he could think of nothing. His eyes shifted to the shaking girl in Devur's arms and his heart melted. "Lufia, it's just a dream," he told her.

"It's been repetitive for about the last three years since the Sinistrals have been defeated," Devur reminded him. "Do you think she maybe regained her memory after all this time?" He gently stroked her hair and moved his left hand on her neck as she cried, moving it back and forth across her neck softly. It seemed to calm Lufia, for she started sighing softly and her tears stopped flowing from her cheeks. "Flake did say that her memories would be coming back at any time now."

"Yes, he did," Roman confirmed, sitting on her bed now, taking Lufia's hand. "That could be the reason. Do you want me to call Aguro and Jerin from their slumber? They are only in the next room."

"They should have heard me--heard me screaming--about--" Lufia tied to speak, but all that came out were hiccupping sobs. Then she started to wail again and threw her head into Devur's chest, her tears wetting Devur's shirt. Her little hands hit his chest in frustration. "Mama . . ." she whispered. "Mama . . . Daemon . . ."

Roman shook his head. "Christmas morning usually is hard for Lufia ever since they have been defeated, Devur. She has had the past in her dreams, yet never had had the answers that she has wanted. But we need her to give us the answers."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Devur started as he heard two people arguing down the hallway. He knew by their voices that it was the guests that Lufia and him had invited for Christmas, but he wished that for once that they would not argue. "Call a meeting?"

"You should have gone to fond out what that noise was, Ag!" A melodic woman's voice called down the hallway. "I swear, you never do anything when it is the right time or when someone tells you to . . ."

Welcome to the day of living hell, Devur thought to himself. And you wanted to invite them for Christmas. Still, it is nice to have their company. But now I'm beginning to wonder . . . and who proposed to whom? Are they even happy that they're married? But he did not say anything as he still heard them arguing, this time Aguro's voice coming to his ears.

"Jerin, you heard Lufia's screams too. You just laid there, all curled up in a ball because you were cold. So don't tell me that I was being lazy. Just own up to the fact that you did not want to get out of bed and you did not know what to do about the situation, because I didn't. Devur did. You let Devur handle it."

Aguro made sense! In the time that Devur knew Aguro, the Lorbenian commander seemed . . . well, dense. That was the only word that the Knight of Alekia could use for him. and now . . . It seems that being around Jerin is good for Aguro, and that marriage suits him. He does not have to settle down with her. She doesn't settle down. And he picks up stuff from her. Sure, she's smart in her own little way, but I think Ag knows how to handle Jerin. Just like I know how to handle Lufia.

"Ag . . ." Jerin was quiet for a minute, but Devur could tell her voice was full of awe. "You just made perfect sense. Are you learning or what?" Then her head popped through the door and Devur gasped at the difference in her appearance.

In the five years that they had known each other, Jerin usually wore Elvin garb that was a dark forest green with matching pants that were comfortable for traveling. Now she was in a light forest green shirt that was to her stomach and a long matching skirt that was in a intricate design that was known that it was elfin made that was to her ankles. She also had a necklace on that contained some sort of dust in it in a tiny little bottle and had a pair of sapphires in her pointy ears. Her hair was much longer now and it was to Lufia's length, which was to her waist and it was pulled into a French braid and tied back. There was a diamond engagement ring on her left hand and a sapphire ring as her wedding ring on her right. The light brown eyes matched her boots, which were ankle cut.

Jerin smiled shyly. "Hey, Dev. What's been up with you?" Then she saw Lufia. "Figured she was nightmaring again."

Aguro followed her into the room and blinked. "Devur! Hey!"

Devur looked at Aguro and noted his different appearance as well. Aguro had changed his armor, or he seemed to, anyway, since he gotten it polished and had gotten a longer sword. Probably when Jerin and him had gotten married, Devur noted to himself as he scratched Lufia's neck, still trying to sooth his fiancée. But when did he polish his armor?

"Hey, Ag," Devur replied, shocked. "When did the sudden change come for you?" When Aguro looked confused, Devur nudged his head to his armor. "That. It never was polished before. Not that I can remember, anyway." He said all of this as he was putting his hand through Lufia's long lavender hair.

Jerin blushed deeply at that. "Well, men change when--"

"Just something I wanted to do, I guess," Aguro muttered, staring at the ground, shuffling his feet. Devur turned a light shade of red himself and wanted to laugh. Aguro Ackern, Commander of the Lorbenian Army, actually blushed at something he did because of the woman he had come to love. It's amazing . . . how much he has changed . . . but then again, so have Lufia and I . . . But--- whoa! I didn't notice his hair!!

Aguro had longer hair them Devur Tranvent did now . . . which was down to his neck, pulled back in a warrior's tail. His hair was highlighted in the back when the sun shone down on it, in light and dark greens. But when he turned back to him, it was just a dark green once again, matching his eyes.

"So, is Lufia alright now?" Aguro asked in concern. "We heard her screaming down the hallway . . . sorry we didn't come sooner I mean . . . we would have, but . . . " He now had the courage to look at Devur and his face was still a little red. Aguro looked serious, however, as he straightened out the wrinkles in his tan pants at the legs. "How long did this nightmare start?"

Roman was still holding his daughter's other hand and wiping her face down as Aguro asked the question. Feeling the most qualified, he answered, "About two years, now, some of them different ones. I know this one has been repetitive. So does Devur. But then again . . . " Roman took the cloth off Lufia's head and put his hand on his chin, furrowing his white eyebrows in thought. "But Flake did say that her memories would return soon. And when she would, she would need all of you, including me."

"I'm starting to get the feeling that Lufia and Devur called us for her sanity and not just for a friendly Christmas gathering," Jerin muttered as she pulled herself away from Aguro and moved to Lufia. "You alright?"

Lufia blinked her eyes sleepily as she looked to her two friends. "Thank you both for coming. Merry Christmas to both of you. But you are right; I did not call you both here simply because I wanted to spend Christmas with you two. It was because of this." She looked to Aguro as she said the last statement. "I wanted to tell you about my past. But I want to rest a little. So can you give me a little while to sleep and then--"

"Don't worry," Jerin promised, patting Lufia's head as she moved her hair out of Lufia's face and kissed the side of the pale girl's cheek. "We'll give you a little time to rest up from dreaming and what not. But just promise me you'll call me if you need me, alright?"

Lufia looked at Jerin and saw the concern in her golden eyes. At this she nodded. "Sure, Jerin. I will." With that, she looked up at her fiancée. "Devur, thanks. You might as well keep Jerin and Aguro company while I . . ." At the middle of her sentence, she yawned sleepily. "Well, you know what I mean . . . " Her head thumped heavily on Devur's chest, her eyelids flickering in sleep.

"Damn," Jerin muttered. "It doesn't take her long to fall asleep, does it?"

Aguro shook her head. "Never did."

Devur rose slowly, moving Lufia off him and lifted her up delicately, as if she would break at any moment. Her legs and arms dangled when he lifted her up, but she did not notice, she was so deep in sleep. Devur laid her head on the pillow, her hair all in different directions. Lufia moaned in her sleep as her head hit it, stretching, but he still finished laying her down on the bed, covering her up with the sheets. Then he looked to Aguro and Jerin.

"Well, we might as well go downstairs," the Knight of Alekia told them in a somber voice. "I'll let you in on what has happened while you two have been away."

Roman sighed as she stood up wearily. "As will I. I want to know how you two have been doing as well."

Jerin and Aguro smiled as they looked at the other and blinked for a minute, then looking at the old innkeeper and the Knight, they started: "Well," Jerin began, "it's been like this . . . "

Back to Seeking Redemption Go to Interlude I: The First Try