Kumotta Sora
See disclaimer and warning in Part 1
Slowly but surely, Crux had managed to drag Kumo some sixty or seventy miles from the site at which she'd found him, amidst the wreckage of Gaudium.
It had taken a few days, which had passed in eternities of constant terror. What if Crux wasn't able to find the proper herbs wherever they landed? What if the bandages wore out? (It would be bad if she had to completely dismantle Kumo's cape in order to keep his wounds bound, so she was trying to reuse the old bandages until they became hopelessly stained before tearing new cloth.) What if she couldn't get Kumo food or water? What if his blood wasn't regenerated quickly enough (he was still bleeding, just a little bit)? What if... what if... what if...?
But all what-ifs aside, Crux had managed to get Kumo to the ideal site for recovery: Not a living soul around, just a rocky, shallow abandoned cave next to a clear lake, engulfed in thick forest. She no longer had to worry about water or shelter, and her forages for food could be more detailed and meticulous. She was able to stay with Kumo longer, able to reassure him in his moments of semiconsciousness. Most of the time, he slept--he was still very weak, after all, and he was just getting enough food and water to sustain him. One of the drawbacks of being his size was that he required a lot of nuts, berries, mushrooms, and herbs to claw his way up from the abyss. Crux did what she could, but she could tell by the amount of time he spent sleeping that he was still doing his best to conserve energy anyways.
Kumo was a model patient. With dignity, he accepted everything she did for him, even her clumsy attempts at bandaging his wounds. She herself knew the sting of even the mildest soapwort against injuries, but the strongest protest he'd offered when she placed it against his open wound was a tiny wince. There were still times when he became too weak to chew food on his own; he accepted his caretaker's extreme reluctance to pass it to him herself unquestioningly, was patient until she resolved herself, no matter how terribly hungry he himself was. He didn't try to tax himself with any movement greater than limping and/or crawling, if need be, to the water for a drink or the far side of the rocky encampment that formed his cave if he needed to relieve himself. When she was worried, he softly assured her that he would be alright in time.
Depending on his physical state, sometimes she even believed him.
In fact, Crux could see him slowly and steadily gaining victories.
The first morning he'd been completely alert and lucid when she'd awakened him. The day he'd dragged himself to the water's edge to spare her the embarrassment of having to pass liquids as well as solids to him. The hazy twilit sunset when he'd stood up without help. The ever-increasing frequency of the days when he had been able to chew and swallow his own food without Crux having to do some part of the process for him.
The day when Crux had seen scabbing at the edges of Kumo's awful wound, in the middle of changing his bandages.
He was actually improving.
---
I know it's a dream, but why can't I ever wake up...?
Why does my mind force me to see these things...?
"I've been waiting for you."
Your voice, your face... washed over in the stone blankness of cold hatred.
As much a plea as anything else, the words just tore out of me: "Why did you...?"
Your answer, just as cold and unfeeling as anything else... as blank as your crimson eyes. "I was resurrected and brought here for one purpose... to finish our fight.
"Prepare for battle, little brother..."
I stood silent, unable to face the reality of the crimson sword whose killing blade was pointed at my throat.
Oh, Niisama...
---
Crux was awakened by the low moan behind her: Kumo's.
All vestiges of sleep gone, she turned to him and gently shook him where he lay. "Kukuriyu?"
He didn't respond, which was strange--hadn't they gotten past that point? Even if Kumo did sleep a lot these days, he slept lightly and awoke at her touch. Besides that, his face was flushed pink, and his skin was unusually warm against her hands.
She shook him harder. "Kukuriyu!"
Still no response. Crux felt like screaming. Just when things had started to look up for Kumo, he'd gotten sick. That would bring him back down to the danger point again, and could possibly leave permanent damage to his health. He was still so weak already...
Well, she'd just have to look for more herbs to help bring his fever down. Steeling herself with a sigh, she stroked Kumo's shoulder comfortingly, going as far as to lightly kiss his cheek before extending her wings to fly back to the forest.
---
"Do you remember that great battle that sealed the fate of our world, little brother?
"At that time, why did I advance towards the enemy, fighting them without holding back? Do you know?"
I fumbled for an answer, distracted by that horrible, haunted look in your eyes. "Because... you were a swordsman of great pride..."
"Wrong!"
I couldn't help but be taken aback. "What?"
"I was thinking of you the whole time!"
"Me...?"
Your glare had hold of something inside of me, and wasn't letting go. I couldn't move, could barely breathe, could only struggle against the tears I could feel coming.
"If it had been you, what would you have been thinking?" Your voice, driven with obsession, threaded an awful chill across my back, as if someone was tracing a pattern there with new cello strings. "What would you have done? Thoughts like those have always brought me to the question of who was the stronger between the two of us. I wanted to lead us to victory in that great battle to show my superior skills!"
"Niisama..." Pain. The awful pain, with the awful truth... all those nights, when I bowed to your need for dominance, when you held me as I trembled with the pleasure you'd given me, when you'd whispered your love to me... was this what had been behind the façade of your tenderness? Something inside me was shattering with every word you spoke.
Niisama... I loved you, I love you still... so why... why...?
"I was the greater swordsman, and you know it," you went on, dogged determination, callous cruelty in your voice. "I was the one left to make the difficult choices. And so... I died...
"But even in death, this was the thought I could not escape."
"So that is how badly you want to fight me..." I murmured, torn to pieces by your hatred.
"Our world has been devoured and decimated by Chaos," you said simply, still glaring, your hair and cape teased by the wind. "Now I'm free of all care."
Niisama...
---
After fifteen minutes' worth of fruitless searching, Crux returned frustrated to Kumo's sheltered cave. The least she could do was try to cool him down a little for now...
Kumo was lying in exactly the same position she'd left him in, his cheeks flamed still further than before, shivering now, curled just a tiny bit more closely. Landing beside him, Crux could see the tiny beads of perspiration standing out on his skin and forgot her exasperation at the inconvenience of the situation. Guiltily, she put her small hand on Kumo's shoulder.
And pulled it away as if she'd been bitten.
The mild fever he'd displayed when she'd left only fifteen minutes ago had soared dramatically. Small wonder that he was covered in sweat--he was burning up! This was no simple illness... Kumo was in real danger now. Whether it was simply his own previous weakness or the strength of the infection itself, Kumo was deathly ill and fighting a losing battle.
Crux had to get him help.
She knew next to nothing about treating illnesses, aside from very basic herbal remedies. Something so simple wouldn't be able to help Kumo here. She needed to find someone who knew what they were doing, someone who'd be willing to save a man who'd once been a captive soldier of Earl Tyrant... and she needed to find them now.
Flitting down to the water's edge, Crux cupped her hands to gather a shallow bit of liquid, which she successively splashed against Kumo's face and the nape of his neck. Until she found someone, that was all she could do for him...
With one last determined look at her helpless charge, Crux took off again, a tiny fleck of pink, lavender, and gold against the azure sky.
---
"Enough! Now fight me!" Impatient, you slashed your blade through the air, still glaring at me with the utmost hatred.
"Niisama!" Somehow, it was once again all that I could say.
"Now I am nothing more than a dead soul living within this crystal weapon, and you must answer to my spirit and my sword!"
I was silent, still unable to breathe or move. My chest felt painfully tight; agony rippled up my breastbone. Tears stung my eyes and blurred your image, bold red against the blue-shaded white of the clouds and the soft, dreamlike haze of your Mist.
"If you will not come to face me, then I will come to you!"
And you lunged towards me.
---
The exact reasons Crux had chosen the secluded glade for Kumo's recovery now seemed to condemn him to his fate. She'd wanted to find some place away from prying eyes, so Kumo wouldn't be in danger from the many who'd once been oppressed under the Earl's rule... but the distance from civilization now meant that there was no one she could reach for help.
It was just no use... all the surviving people of Wonderland were just too far away...! Despite all her best efforts, Kumo was going to die and it would be entirely her fault, for her bad choice.
Feeling like crying, Crux headed slowly back towards Kumo's cave. All she could do was stay with him, and ease his passing...
It was a few moments, desolate as she was, before she noticed the increasingly strong sound of waves, as if the tide was gently lapping soft shores.
Realizing at last, Crux came to a halt, confused. There was no lake that large in this forest...
Looking around, she saw it, resting in a small clearing in the trees: What seemed to be a giant, spiked clam shell, at least a hundred times the natural size of a normal one. The sound of waves was coming from it, telling Crux that surely there was something magical about this place. That... and surely, a normal clam shell, even such a huge one as this, wouldn't have wings.
Hovering closer, intrigued despite herself, Crux realized that behind a multitude of immense, iridescent pearls, there was a person sitting behind a glimmering blue crystal inside the huge thing.
Perhaps there was hope after all.
Somewhat timidly, Crux flew slowly to the giant structure, studying the person as she did so. It was a woman--a strikingly beautiful woman, ivory-skinned with haunting dark eyes and strong, ageless features on an oval face. Her slightly parted lips had been touched with pink luster, and the nails of her elegant hands were painted teal-blue. The entirety of her attention was on the ball in her hands; her half-closed eyes flicked back and forth while staring at it, as though she was reading some strange book. Her silvery hair and much of her form were hidden beneath a pale yellow hooded cloak with white lining and a soft magenta underside; it was a few feet longer than she was tall and trailed on the ground like the train of a dress. Beneath the cloak, she wore a simple, dusk-blue dress, made of some light silky fabric that clung to her breasts and waist. The glow of the crystal cast soft shadows over her; the overall effect had Crux more than a little cowed. Even though this was her only chance, who knew what this woman's reaction would be.
As soon as Crux passed the first of the large pearls, the woman looked up, making her squeak in surprise. Oddly, however, she seemed completely unconcerned by the appearance of a complete stranger in her domain--even more oddly, Crux had the feeling that the woman knew exactly who she was, and that she'd been expected sooner or later.
"What is it, dear?" she asked, with the calm air of an omniscient mother.
"Kuu..." Crux faltered, not sure of what exactly she should do.
The woman stood, smiling. "There's no need to be afraid here... certainly not of me. My name is Fabula Kronos... I am a Guide."
Although Crux wasn't exactly sure what that meant, she knew a sympathetic heart when she found one. Before she knew it, she'd zipped straight into Fabula's arms and had told her everything that had happened from Gaudium's collapse straight to Kumo's strange and deadly fever, not even stopping to wonder how exactly the strange woman seemed to completely understand her every word, when the only ones who'd been able to comprehend her speech were Kumo and her creator, the necromancer Oscha...
When she'd finished, Crux looked up at Fabula, who now wore a distinctly alarmed expression. "So soon...?" she asked, shaking her head. "I must have misread... how has time passed so quickly since Chaos was pushed back...?" Her lips tightened, and she gave Crux the kind of commanding look that she couldn't help but obey. "Take me to him--now."
---
Caught off-guard, I leaped backwards to dodge your mad strike, drawing my own sword at last. You breathed out a steady stream of Mist, then shot into the air. Desperate, I followed you.
"Niisama!" I cried, searching your face for remnants of the side of you I'd used to know. "Niisama, don't you see? There is someone taking advantage of your heart, trying to confuse you with these deceptions!"
"What of it?" you asked coldly, and I could feel it--it was hopeless.
"Niisama..."
You dashed towards me again, swinging your crimson Maken recklessly. "Try taking this on--my Flare Sword!"
I tried to deflect the worst of the blow with my own sword, but I was still blown back, my unwillingness to harm you exacting its heavy toll. Thrown into another part of the ruins, I was able to struggle back up, but the most unwelcome sight was there to greet me.
You were so far gone that you were even willing to summon against me.
Niisama... why...?
---
Crux had to admit to herself, she was surprised. Not only by the force of Fabula's demand, but by the fact that someone who gave off such a dignified feeling wasn't above hiking up her skirt and running through the forests to Kumo's cave by the lake.
She was also surprised by the time they made. Despite the heavy clothing she was wearing, Fabula was fast. Not to mention determined. She hadn't even gotten her cloak tangled in the brush once over the five-minute journey back.
While Crux halted a few feet away, Fabula made a beeline for Kumo's side, stripping off her cloak and dumping it unceremoniously behind her. "He's fading," she said softly, and turned back to the little sprite. "Please listen to me--back in the shell palace, there's a healer's kit hidden behind the largest pearl. Get that and bring it back here, and hurry. I don't have much time if I'm to keep him alive!"
A tight, clawed fist reached into Crux's chest and squeezed. Unable to think past the phrase Oh God, she did as she was told.
When she got back, toting the small wicker case she'd uncovered, she discovered that Fabula had been busy. The silver-haired Guide had lifted Kumo onto her cloak and stripped off his blouse; she was carefully undoing the worn strip of cloth that bandaged his wound when Crux landed.
"Thank you," Fabula said distractedly, now very gently probing Kumo's injury. A trickle of blood slipped across his skin, followed by a second trickle of some other kind of liquid, some sort of opaque, yellowish discharge. "It only seems to be a minor infection, but... best to start small." Turning as Crux watched helplessly, she opened the wicker kit, pulling out some kind of herb that the sprite didn't recognize. It had already been powdered; only small pieces of the leaf were visible in the dust. Very carefully, Fabula spread a pinch of the pieces and powder inside Kumo's wound; Crux shivered involuntarily. She herself couldn't stand to look at the hole through her charge's body for very long... how could Fabula possibly stand having to touch it and work within it?
Minutes passed like hours; though Crux didn't understand everything that Fabula was doing, still she watched anxiously. The Guide's concentration never wavered as she mixed her delicate poultices, which she applied over and in Kumo's wound, first on the entrance side, then where the Maken's tip had broken through the young swordsman's back.
Finally, she turned slightly, her hands still against Kumo's skin. "Please pass me some of the linen bandages..." Her own hands shaking, Crux did. With practiced expertise, Fabula wound the length of cloth tightly around Kumo's waist, finally tying off the strip when she reached its end. With a sigh, she sat back, her fingertips still bloody.
"The herbs and curatives will help purge the infection," she explained to the still-anxious Crux. "In the morning, he should be doing much better, but he'll still have to deal with the illness he's contracted... I have no idea whether or not he'll make it. For me, it's just a matter of seeing that he gets that crucial push in the right direction, since I still can't use magic to help him heal. I think his wound, at least, will recover in time, but with this fever I just don't know... for now, he's going to need rest; after that, we've got to keep him fed and do what we can to help him fend off his sickness."
"Kukuriyu..." Bowing deeply to the Guide from where she stood, Crux ran to put her arms around Kumo, still unconscious and still burning with fever.
Fabula just sighed, shook her head, gave the two of them a sad smile, and headed down to the water's edge to rinse her hands clean.
---
What else could I have done...?
I called a summon of similar rank, only wishing to defend myself against your onslaught.
Your will, of course, was stronger than mine. You were looking to kill, I for a way out of the vicious cycle of the nightmare before me. Your crimson Ittouju destroyed mine within moments, and I struggled with exhaustion as its demise drained my energy.
Somehow, the crystal within your Maken shattered under the strain of your summon's attack, and I wasn't harmed...
Barely standing, I cried out to you one last time: "Please, try to calm your spirit, my brother...!"
You just smirked at me.
"Use your sword, not your mouth... why don't you try using that sword to 'calm my spirit', my brother?"
And you brought your Maken to its full power.
"Niisama, you have lost the power that made you Madoushi," I said softly, knowing I was trapped, giving in and transforming my own blade. "Now the sword of my spirit shall work against you, and put you to rest!"
You rushed me; I caught your strike on my sword.
And my mind went as blank as it had always been while we trained, seeking only victory.
Finally: My Maken cleaved through yours, causing the crystal near the hilt to shatter completely.
The pain and shock on your face will haunt me forever.
I only realized what I had done when you collapsed, when it was too late, when all I could do was grip the hem of your cloak and pull your body into my arms.
You gave me that sad, tired smile, and reached up to touch my cheek, to catch the tears there.
And then you were gone.
Niisama... I don't understand why! What happened to you...? I just don't understand... I don't know what's real anymore... who is the real you...? The man who held me tenderly, gave me the gift of my first kiss, to whom I willingly sacrificed my virginity, my innocence... or the bitterly jealous man, overshadowed by my skill, wanting nothing more than to see me dead?
I just want to be held by you, protected, to be a child again... or better, to wake up with you each morning, to have your passion, your care, to make love to you... That's all I ever wanted, and all I ever will want...
The one thing I can never have...
Oh, Niisama...
---
They were both sound asleep when Fabula got back to the little cave.
She wished that she could do more, but her hands were tied. She already couldn't use her powers to save Kumo; how much further could she go before she violated her strict orders to toe the line?
In the long run, would saving Kumo's life be worth losing her own?
It was all a matter of carefully seeking out the loopholes and directing Crux towards the actions that would make all the difference...
Nothing more...
(TBC)