Chapter 3
By:Zosocrowe
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
I have merely borrowed a couple characters to create
a silly fan story. I have no money either.
Albel wasn't in his guestroom suite. Woltar had expected as much. Still, the room showed signs that he'd obviously been there sometime during the night; the bed was tore apart, the sheets twisted in knots and the heavy quilt crumpled at the foot. Oddly, a small nightstand lay on its side and a haphazard glass was in pieces on the floor. In the corner of the room, a rather expensive bed robe of royal blue and crimson was piled carelessly.
"Hmmm," Woltar mumbled. "It would appear our elusive Lord Albel woke up in a foul mood."
Nel peeked over his shoulder discretely. She was a bit uncomfortable. The last place she ever expected to find herself was in the bedroom of Albel the Wicked. The thought almost scared her. Who knew what kind of things went on inside such a place? As twisted and sadistic as the young captain appeared, she'd expected to enter a torture chamber, and was rather surprised to see a regular bedroom, furnished with only the barest accommodations. No whips, no chains, no bed of nails; just a regular room with a small bed, obscure nightstand, and lonely wooden chair behind the door. She knew peasants that had fancier rooms than his. How bizarre.
"Why's the window open?" she asked, feeling a chilly draft on her bare arms. It was autumn and far too cold to sleep with open windows, even for a Glyphian native. Kirlsa wasn't nearly as cold as Airyglyph during the fall and winter months, but the chill still demanded respect. Not even the icy blood of Albel Nox would tolerate such a biting freeze when unnecessary.
Woltar glanced at the window and pursed his lips. The sheer curtains fluttered slightly, beckoning them to come closer. "Guard!" Woltar shouted, his loud voice giving Nel a start. When an iron clad solider lumbered in, the old man looked over his shoulder. "How long have you been on duty?" he asked.
"Since midnight, sir," the guard replied.
"Did you see Captain Nox last night?"
The guard thought for a moment and nodded. "Yes, he came in shortly after I took up my station."
"Did you see him leave?
The guard shook his iron helmet from side to side. "No, I didn't, sir," he replied.
Woltar gave the window a sullen look and waved the guard away. He took in the wrecked room once again and sighed. "Really, Albel," he muttered to under his breath.
Nel waited quietly by the doorway. She was uncomfortable enough being in Albel's quarters, but the old man's silence was making her even more nervous. The mess in the room was suspicious, even to her. She didn't confess to know much about him, but Albel never struck her as the type to be messy or "recklessly" violent. Everything he did had a purpose; anything else was wasted energy.
She glanced back at the guard, who stood as still as a stone statue at his post near the foot of the stairs. There were only one set of stairs leading to the first floor. If Albel left, he'd have had to walk right by the guard. She wondered if the overworked soldier had fallen asleep. No doubt, Albel could be as silent as a cat when he wished to be. A snoozing guard might not notice him pass by. But why would Albel let him remain asleep? Surely he wouldn't miss an opportunity to terrify a careless subordinate. He enjoyed his title as "the wicked" far too much be lenient.
She looked back to the window.
Why was it open and where was Albel?
Woltar turned to her and smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid," he said, gesturing to the window, "Lord Albel has left us and I'm not certain where he's gone."
Nel's eyes widened in disbelief as she let her gaze follow his hand. "What? You can't mean he..." her voice trailed off and she started across the room and wrenched open the curtains. Peering down the slick, stone walls she shook her head in wonder. "You've got to be kidding me. Why?" Jerking her head back inside, she turned and gazed at Woltar expectantly.
Woltar wasn't sure what to say. He knew he couldn't hide much from the Lady Nel, but truth be told, he was a bit befuddled himself. Over the past few years, Albel had pulled a few boggling stunts, but the last time he climbed though his bedroom window, he'd been a fourteen year old boy smitten by the feminine charms and loose skirt of a certain maid. That was ridiculous, but this was absurd.
And embarrassing.
How could he even possibly explain Albel's actions without airing the dirty laundry of a fellow noble, not to mention his best friend's son, who he'd swore on his grave to look after? He'd hoped that Albel would come around on his own, but it was becoming painfully evident that that was just a foolish fantasy. The stubborn boy was far too wrapped up in his own emotions to tell what was what anymore. Albel had never been one to let things go easily, but this time his madness was affecting them all. No one knew when a notion would strike him, and a heavy cloud of unease had settled itself upon all those forced to deal with him. In a matter of time, something would have to be done about it. Woltar hated to think of what the consequences would be, but no doubt, it would be he who would have to administer them.
Nel's shoulders slumped and she took a deep breath. What should be a simple task had somehow turned into a major ordeal. She wasn't sure what she had stumbled into and it didn't look like the old man was going to tell her, but she had her orders. The Queen had specifically told her to seek out Nox and ask his assistance. She wasn't leaving before she'd fulfilled her mission. "Okay, so you don't know where he went?" she asked, biting back the annoyance. "Do you have any clue where he MIGHT have gone?"
Woltar started to shrug and tell her that her guess was as good as his, but he was interrupted by a loud shout from the main foyer downstairs. They both turned as the sound of heavy armor, chiming like poorly matched cymbals, beat up the narrow staircase.
"Captain! Captain!" a solider cried.
Nel and Woltar shared a look, and Woltar did his best to appear confident. "It looks like we're about to find out," he replied with a halfhearted chuckle.
A distraught solider careened up the stairs and around the banister. He plowed to a stop before Woltar and tried to bow an apology, but instead, keeled over for lack of air. "Captain," he wheezed, "You're needed at the Keep."
"The Keep?" Woltar asked, his tone surprised.
Nel glanced at him, alarmed. She knew the Keep was where they kept the dragons used to travel from Kirlsa to Airyglyph. Trouble with dragons was never good news.
"It's Lord Albel, sir," the young solider continued.
"Albel? Whatever is he doing there?" Woltar asked, straightening in alarm.
Nel leaned against the doorframe, hiding her surprise with a face of indifference. What indeed? Albel wasn't overly fond of dragons. Not that she could blame him. He'd lost his father and an arm to a dragon long ago in a ceremonial rite that went horribly wrong. He respected the beasts enough, but loathed them all the same. If left with a choice, he'd rather walk than ride one, so his being at the Keep was an interesting bit of information. Was the Captain in such a hurry to get away?
The youth in armor was beside himself with panic, though Nel had to give him points for remaining coherent. "Sir, he's taking a dragon! The others are trying to distract him, but things are...getting out of hand..." He needed not to elaborate further. Not even a handful of the Storm Brigade's best men could stand up to the captain of the Black Brigade in a fight. To make matters worse, Albel was their superior officer and they were no doubt terrified of what punishment he'd dole out for being defied. Also, Albel's own men wouldn't stand in his way, and most likely they'd made themselves scarce the minute trouble began.
"Are you saying he's commandeered a dragon?" Woltar asked, obviously astounded.
"I'm sorry sir, we've been trying to stop him but..."
Woltar put up a hand. "Let it be. I'll go settle this myself," he said.
He dismissed the youth and started for the steps. When he reached the top, he stopped for a moment before looking back at Nel. "My lady, would it be too much to ask of your assistance?"
Nel arched her brows and cocked her head. "I'm not too keen on getting my hands dirty with Airyglyph's personal problems." She leaned against the doorway and crossed her arms over her chest.
Woltar gave her a strange, almost sad look. "No worries then. The personal part of this problem is hardly Airyglyph's," he replied, "it's Albel's."
"Huh?" Nel frowned at his remark, but Woltar had already disappeared down the stairs, his steps all too quick for a man with arthritic joints and old bones. Nel glanced back at the bedroom and shook her head. If getting involved with Airyglyph personal problems was an issue, diving into Albel Nox's could only be worse. Then again, perhaps it would be a good idea to see what was going on after all. A rogue Albel wouldn't benefit any of them, and left alone, could be catastrophic. Nel already had her fair share of catastrophes to deal with. The last thing she needed was another one.
A familiar, haughty laugh greeted them as the made their way around the corner of one of the many brick training foyers. Woltar's pace remained steady, but he was moving a bit faster than his regular shuffle. A disturbing sign. Nel followed behind him, keeping close to his heels and burying the nervous energy that nipped at her from all sides.
"Are you, a lowly maggot, giving me, your superior officer, an order? Either you are delusional, or a bigger fool that I suspected." It was obviously Albel's voice that carried over one of the buildings that stood between them and him. There was a lethal hostility in his voice. Nel glanced at the back of Woltar's head and wondered if he'd noticed it as well. Albel wasn't simply trying to intimidate a tactic he utilized when handling weaker opponents. No, he was genuinely angry, which meant serious consequences for those on the receiving end of his sword.
"No sir, that's not what I meant!" came a shaky reply. "Commander...I mean, Lord Woltar wishes to speak to you before you go!"
A strained silence hung on the air, then a peel of laughter erupted. "You're a pathetic liar," Albel snapped, his laughter ending abruptly, "Do you take me for an idiot?"
"No sir! Please, just calm down..."
"Calm down? I am calm, you clown! If I wasn't, I'd have slit your throat and gouged out your eyes by now!" Albel shouted, "Now get out of my way before I really get..." There was the sound of a sword leaving its sheath and a panicked murmur.
Nel went for her blades, her entire body stiffening. A trickle of fear ran down her spine. She'd faced Albel before, but she'd had the help of two strong comrades. Taking him alone was something she wasn't certain she was capable of. The soldiers gathered in the courtyard wouldn't be much help, they were already to spooked by the angry captain. He'd cut through them like bales of moldy straw if it came to a fight. No, she would have to make her mark count if things got out of hand.
Woltar rounded the final turn and motioned for Nel to wait just behind one of the rotting walls of the courtyard, out of sight. She couldn't see Albel, but she had a clear view of Woltar's back. The old commander had stopped just inside her line of vision, and Nel understood. She was his trump card, the ace that would steal the game right from under Albel's nose. Or so they hoped.
"Albel! Stand down!"
Albel jumped, his senses muddled by his anger and thirst for vengeance, but still recognizing the voice that held years and years of parental authority over him. He craned his neck around and peered over his shoulder at Woltar. Another round of heavy silence followed as the two sized one another up, the seconds ticking away for what seemed like hours. Finally, Albel straightened and smiled a sarcastic, boyish smile. "Well, well," he smirked, "The calvary has arrived, I assume?"
Woltar stepped forward and let his face slip into the mask of elderly indifference. He greeted Albel with a small smile of his own and placed his hands unthreatening behind his back. "I've been looking for you, Albel. A matter that requires your immediate attention has come up. Come with me to my office so we can discuss it."
Albel's eyes narrowed in suspicion, his smirk slipping from his lips like liquid. "You got that right, old coot," he growled, flexing his jagged claws. Woltar cocked his head in confusion and Albel sneered. "I've got a matter to settle with that demon worm, Romero, back in Airyglyph. Your problems are no concern of mine."
Woltar tried to remain unimpressed, but he felt his brows arch at the mention of the demon prince's name. It was no secret that the bad blood between Albel and the monster king ran putrid with hatred and wounded pride. Every meeting between the two had ended in a blood bath, but by some twisted miracle, neither had died yet in one of those horrible battles. As far as Woltar knew, Romero had mysteriously disappeared after the last clash. That fateful day had changed the course of everyone's lives, but no doubt, Romero was hidden somewhere deep inside the labyrinth beneath the castle, watching and waiting.
"Albel," Woltar began, his tone cautious, "Don't be a fool. You're playing right into the devil's hands."
Albel's right eye twitched and his jaw tightened. "I'm not stupid, but if you must know, I don't care," he snapped. "This ridiculous game of his ends today. One of us is going to die." The last sentence fell from his lips in a hiss, as if he couldn't find the words he wished to speak.
"As you are now, it'll be you," Woltar replied quickly. "This 'game' of yours changed years ago, Albel. You've seen what he is capable of." Woltar's face tightened as a brittle memory pricked his brain. He could still remember how the walls of Nox Manor were coated slick with red that dreadful night. Bodies had littered the manor, some of them so mangled they could only be described as lumps of meat, impossible to tell if they'd been human or animal. He'd thought the art of war had desensitized him from such things, but never in all his years had he witnessed anything so utterly terrible.
"Silence!" Albel snarled. "You, of all people, should know what it means to push me. That demon scum has no idea what I'm capable of yet."
"Who dies this time, boy? The King? His new daughter? His wife? More of your men? Their families? Me? You know Romero has no boundaries to what he'll do. No limit to how far he can reach. He'll do anything he can to crush you, whether it be with a blade or with the countless lives you sacrifice to this silly play. Have you sunk so low to force others to feel the pain you've been subjected to?" Woltar shook his head, "You are a ruthless man. I've known that for many years. But I never thought of you as dishonorable until now, Albel. Your father would be ashamed."
Albel stiffened, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't try to bait me with talk of my father, you old rat. This has nothing to do with him."
Woltar shrugged. "But it has everything to do with Lady Kasia and Master Kaine." A visible shudder ran through the lithe warrior and Woltar knew he'd struck a sensitive nerve. The ground he tread on was dangerous and he knew he would have to choose his words with extreme care. He was at the core of Albel's sickness, where nothing was predictable and everything was deadly.
"They matter not," Albel snapped, "They never did."
Woltar gave him an incredulous look. "Oh? Is that so, boy? You certainly fooled me, especially the way you've carried on after they died. And here we thought the weight of their death's were heavy on your conscious! Were the years of madness you subjected us to just some twisted joke of yours? The King certainly won't be pleased to hear this, as he's been extremely patient with your silly whims."
"You know nothing. I said, this has nothing to do with them. Romero toys with me. No one toys with me and lives."
Woltar chuckled and held his hands out with a shrug. "Then explain this pointless suicide mission. Honestly, Albel, if Romero hadn't killed them, none of this would be happening. You can't expect me to believe that the loss of one battle of many has driven you to the brink of insanity. Romero may play with you, but it's you who torture yourself."
Albel bared his teeth in an ugly snarl. "You kid yourself if you think I'd die to redeem the honor of people who meant nothing to me."
Behind the wall, Nel strained to listen, her face scrunched into a frown. She had no idea who this Romero person was that stood in the path of Albel's wrath, but from Woltar's voice, he was a force to be reckoned with. That was a terrifying thought. What had he done to anger Albel so? She heard Woltar mention several unfamiliar names. Whoever they were, it seemed safe to assume Romero had killed them; and if she heard right, they'd been important to Albel. Then again, she may have understood wrong. Nothing, no one, was important to the "Wicked One". He was a lone wolf. A loose cannon married to battle and bloodshed.
However, the dead weren't important now. What troubled her was the resignation in the warrior's voice. He was angry, downright livid with Woltar, but behind his hateful words, there was an uncertainty that hadn't been there before. Since when did Albel Nox lack confidence in anything? His voice was missing the edge she was so used to hearing. It was dull beneath the sharpness, lacking that mischievous spark of life she'd come to know so well on their travels together. Abrasive and confidently arrogant was how she remembered him. Defeat, or even the possibility, was never foremost in his mind.
She had to stop him.
Her resolution startled her. She'd always thought a world without Albel the Wicked would be a better, safer place. Yet somehow she found herself irritated, even angry with him. How could he let his spirit become so weak? The warrior she knew always held victory in his grasp before he even tasted it. He endured his pain, tucking it away deep inside and using it as a strength instead of a crutch. Never would he speak so frankly of dying; that wasn't an option. His pride would never stand for such defeat, and if his enemies were strong, Albel became stronger. He lived to be mighty, to be proud, and though she despised many of his methods, Nel admitted Albel was an admirable warrior in his own right. Where had that man gone and who was this shell of a solider, crying about meaningless death, that stood in his place?
As much as she loathed his ruthlessness, she despised the thing he'd become even more. A coward. A defeatist. Disgust and anger curdled in her gut as leaned against the brick wall that spared her from Albel's view. How dare he throw away the very things they all worked so hard to preserve. How dare he be so arrogant to render their efforts meaningless.
Nel's brow folded into a determined line. From her position, she could see Woltar's back, his posture stiff with tension. She touched her runes absently. Albel was out of her field of vision, but by his voice, she could pin point his approximate location. If Woltar could somehow distract him enough, she might be able to hit him with a strong thunderspell. A really strong thunderspell. She didn't want to kill him, but she definitely wanted to make sure he'd stay down after she zapped him. With Albel, there was only one chance. If her spell failed to immobilize him, the swift warrior would cut her down in mere moments. His rage might make him careless, but she didn't doubt his ability to cleave her in two.
They were still talking, or rather, arguing. The old man was a smooth negotiator, his years of wisdom and intelligence aiding his skills, but the familiarity between himself and Albel made such tactics difficult. Albel wouldn't be talked down. Not this time. Nel could hear the Woltar speaking in a calm voice, but it was obvious he was poking at Albel, which was like jabbing a poisonous snake with a stick. Woltar was trying to make him angry, using Albel's twisted logic to push him over the edge and make his move.
It was working.
"Shut up! I grow tired of this drivel."
Woltar laughed again, letting the sarcasm flow freely. "Then if not to redeem the honor of Lady Kasia and Master Kaine, then perhaps your own? You couldn't protect them, as you were sworn to do. They died horrible deaths at the hands of Romero because he was too much for you. You brought tragedy down upon your own family, yet you could do nothing to stop it. They died because you were weak. Am I right?" Woltar knew he'd gone too far, but it was necessary. Albel had little patience, but he wasn't an idiot. He'd been schooled in the art of negotiation and war tactics by Woltar himself and Glou Nox. This game could go on for hours if one of them didn't up the ante, and Woltar had just bet the pot.
At first, Albel only stared and blinked at him, but slowly, the black coat of rage swallowed his features in a frightening countenance. "You over step yourself, you old bastard," Albel growled.
"Do I?" Woltar went on, holding his ground. "I only stated the truth. You were weak then, and you're even weaker now. If anything, you've not only shamed your family and name once, but twice over with this pathetic show cowardice. I swear, Albel, couldn't you come up with a better excuse to kill yourself? Have a little pride, boy."
That was the nudge Woltar was looking for, and Nel knew it was her cue. Albel would never stand by and let someone call him a coward. Many names he would tolerate, but not that one. She braced herself and waited.
It didn't take long. Seconds actually. Albel drew in a sharp breath, as if kicked. "I've had enough of you," he snarled and the Crimson Scourge sang from its sheath once again.
His heavy boots took several steps forward as he prepared to attack, but a movement behind Woltar caught his eye. His feet faltered to a stop and his eyes widened in surprise. "Nel Zelpher," he whispered, and then glanced at the blue crackle consuming her hands, "You've got to be kidding me."
Nel forced a tight smile. "The one and only," she replied, then let the spell fly from her hands.
The bright magic caught Albel square in the chest. He'd been so startled by her appearance that he had no time to move or counter. The hesitation gave her the time she needed to target and charge. Lightening engulfed his body in static streaks. He growled in pain between clenched teeth, his eyes rolling back into his head. For a moment, Nel was worried it wouldn't be enough and she went for one of her blades, but a surge of electricity bowed his back and dropped him into the dust with a strangled cry. He lay there, twitching and smoldering, for several moments, until finally the spell faded and he lay still.
No one moved. All eyes stared at the smoking body of the unconscious captain, as if waiting for him to climb up from the dirt and murder them all. Only after several minutes, and it was obvious Albel was down, several hesitant soldiers went to his side. At Woltar's order, they bound him with heavy shackles and confiscated his weapons. A large soldier stepped forward and picked the waifish captain up, slinging him ungraciously over his shoulder.
Nel moved next to Woltar and watched with mild concern. She was shaking a bit, the adrenaline still beating through her veins. "What will you do to him?" she asked, hugging her arms to her body.
Woltar glanced at her, a sad smile on his lips. "We'll put him to bed, with a sedative to calm him, of course. He'll be confined to his quarters so he can have some time to think."
Nel looked at Woltar in surprise. "That's it? He'll just sleep it off?"
Woltar chuckled. "Oh, he'll be right angry when he wakes up. Absolutely murderous, no doubt. Hence the need for a sedative."
Nel shivered. "That's comforting."
Woltar turned and began shuffling back to the mansion. "Thank you, Lady Nel. I owe you a great debt today, as does Albel," he replied, "Today you saved his life, but I fear he's reached the end of his sanity. I'm afraid, I may have to ask you to grant me one more favor."
Nel cocked her head and arched a brow. "I'm sorry, Lord Woltar, but I have my mission..."
Woltar waved her quiet. "Yes, I know. That's what I wish to discuss. Let us go back to my office and wait for Albel to awaken."
Okay, that's it for this chapter. I don't know how many times I re-wrote this (at least six)...it still doesn't sit right with me for some reason, but we'll just have to live with it. I've purposely left some issues vague. They'll be cleared up later...which is difficult for me to do, since I have a tendency to lay everything out in the first few chapters...a bad habit...There hasn't been much of Albel's perspective either, but that'll come soon too. Also, I don't claim to know much about Romero...so I'm just going to say it now, I'm gonna make up a lot of stuff, but I'll do my best to do a good job. ;-P As to why I chose to do an Albel and Nel pairing...I like the two characters, and in my twisted little brain, I felt if they were given the right circumstances, perhaps something between them would happen (but don't expect any mushy mushy romance here!)...besides, I can't stand Sophia, and the other girls didn't have much in common with Albel...