Go Canada.
www.sympatico.ca

Part II: Seeking Comfort From the Heart

Once again, the three were sitting around the table on the main floor of the Sorcerer's Cerpreve, but Lufia and Roman were with them this time. Lufia was sitting next to her fiancée, nursing his wounded head, which had a bump on the back of it on his left side. Roman was slaving away at the stove, happily cooking Christmas dinner, which seemed to be a large turkey with stuffing and mashed potatoes with a side dish of corn and asparagus.

It smelled delicious to all of them, but the smell of the food was not what was concerning young Lufia Nyessia Narobyn. What was Devur going to do before Jerin kicked her shoe while she was running at his head? It seemed like he was going to something important . . . and I know he was. Devur was going into his Mi'Lady spiel . . . something that he does whenever he is doing something important to impress me, which never impresses me at all! But then again, Lufia just thought of something. Oh dear Goddesses above . . . he didn't just do what I thought he was about to do . . . did he?

A look of love passed in Devur in Devur's eyes as he looked back to Lufia and held her hand and Jerin began the meeting at the table with the fifth apology to Devur in the last fifteen minutes. "I am really sorry, Devur. How's your head?" She reached an arm out to him, it only reaching halfway out to the table.

Aguro took it back to him, taking her hand back in his. "He's fine, sweetheart. 'Tis only a flesh wound." Then he looked at the old man cooking at the stove and saw him stuffing the turkey. "You need help there, Roman?" he offered.

Roman shook his head. "No thank you, Aguro. I think I have everything under control. You all just settle this little problem between yourselves while I get things started and done, hear?" He seemed to remove a tear from his eye as he sighed once more and looked out the window for a moment before shuffling his feet, his eyes closed. Then he returned to his work, mashing his turkey mush and shoving it back into his turkey again.

I know you're thinking about Mama, Lufia thought to herself. Hell, I'm thinking about her too, Father. Her and Daemon and that bitch, Alyssa, and all my friends that died while we escaped from Doom Island before the wars started . . . before I was even Erim. Before I knew about Erimela . . . before I knew about the Lost Souls . . . Her eyes were vacant as she looked at the table, holding Devur's hand and still nursing his wounded head. Her thoughts were now focused on her dead brother. If only things had turned out better when we all were up there . . . then maybe Marianne, Ealasaid, Daemon, Kayath and I would all be together. But why must I be the only one left?

"The whole reason why we are even here is because Lufia's memories are returning," Aguro spoke up, trying to interrupt Lufia from her depressing thoughts. "You know, I honestly do think that this was the time that Lufia's memories ought to have returned."

Jerin shot off like a bullet. "Why, Aguro!? It's depressing for the poor girl, thinking about awful things in the past! I mean, come on, Ag! How would you feel!?" Lufia saw her whirl around and face him, anger in her golden eyes. "I would be totally depressed and in the dumps right about now! Take some consideration!"

"Well, I am!" Aguro shouted back. "I'm trying to the best that I can, at least! Come on now, Jerin! When you think about it, no one can really understand how someone feels other then them!"

Aguro, I never thought you would ever make a comment that would make so much sense, Lufia thought to herself. You seemed stupid when I met you, but you have studied and have learned much since I met you. And I understand you now that I have been with you these last eight years as a comrade-in-arms and as a friend and I am proud that I have. Jerin is a good wife for you. At that she smiled for a moment. But I wonder what Daemon would say if he knew of my thought of wanting to marry someone who killed Daos . . . who had his soul . . . my brother . . . I miss you so much . . . I wish I could be with you and Mama right now . . .

"I just don't understand it," Lufia finally blurted out in the middle of Aguro and Jerin's argument. Her voice was calm and even and she had a nonchalant look on her face. Even Devur looked at her, who was sleeping off his sudden headache.

Roman turned away from his cooking. "Don't understand what, dear?"

"Why Daemon and Mama died."

That was when the tears came down her face, but Lufia made no sound. She did not cry in racking sobs. She just let the tears run down and did not attempt to wipe them away as she began to tell her story about her past; the one she kept hidden from the three.

"Well, I guess I better start explaining it to you, huh? Ok, here goes. Not that it will mean much, mind you, since it was all when I was little. But like I told you all, here goes:"

"It all started when I was about twelve, I guess--" She could not even start it, for that was when the racking sobs came to her. "I can't tell it, Father. Something's telling me to hold it back. I can't do it." She pounded her hands into Devur's chest and cried again. "I want to go home. I want to see my mother, my brother, even that bitch I called my half sister that teased and beat the shit out of me. At least she got what she deserved in the end by Bryant. At le--lea---least he k--ki--kill---killed he--her---" Her voice was uncontrollable as it became muffled and she sobbed in Devur's bluish-gray shirt.

Roman left the dinner aside and looked to the married couple, looking at his messy hands, covered in the mash. "Will you two take over for me?"

"Just leave the dinner aside for a minute, damn you!" Jerin shrilled. "Your daughter's more important then an instant Christmas dinner!" She then ran over to where Lufia was crying and hugged her. "Now, you know you have to let these memories out sometime, Lufia. So why not unlock them now, while you're with people you can trust?"

Still the hysterical girl cried, hugging onto Jerin now instead of Devur. "I can't, Jerin," she sobbed. "I can't. Something in my head's telling me not to. Something's just saying, 'You can't let it go, Lufia. You have to keep this in.' But I want to let it go. I've kept this in for so long . . . so long . . ."

"So then just let it go and tell me. I trust you."

Out of all the people, it was Aguro who said it. Aguro, who had refused to talk to Lufia for three years after the Second Doom Island War because she had betrayed them at the final battle. Aguro, who had absolutely no trust for her because of who and what she was. Aguro, who was weary of her because she was an annoying person when she had first him eight years ago. And now--

Had Lufia just heard right? Did she just hear those words?

She looked up to look at the green-haired Lorbenian commander. He was serious. He meant every word he had just said.

"Are you being truthful with me, Aguro Ackern?" Her voice wavered.

Aguro nodded. "Every word, Lufia. I trust you. You have changed."

Lufia shook her head. "I don't think I have . . . " she whispered as she unlatched herself from Jerin's embrace. "I really don't think I have!!" Then she want barreling up the stairs to the inn.

"But you need to tell us, Lufia!" Jerin yelled, running after her.

"Just leave me alone, Jerin!" she shrilled. "I need some more time!!" And with that she had gotten to her door and had slammed it, going to her bed.

"I really don't think I have changed," she whispered to herself once more as she cried again, throwing herself on her bed and crying on her pillow.