Chapter 11

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

3/15/05

Plum was a spark of red and gold brilliance against the blackness of the valley as the small group made their way up the northern path and into the foothills. It glowed like an inferno of retribution, a warning to all who were tempted by sin and peccancy. The night air was heavy with the scent of smoke, a reminder of the that fire was the greatest rite of purification.

They'd killed everyone.

Not a soul was left atoned in the village of horrors. No man, woman, or child had escaped absolution. Even with the cost of their own lives, their crimes were too heavy, too odious, to allow them penance. It was a terrible thing, a victim of their own ignorance and desperation, but it was no excuse.

Not even Nel could find justification, even within the teachings of Apris. She tried to pray for each person she set aflame, but in her minds eye she could only see the faces of the innocent that lost their lives to the poisonous filth the people of Plum let into their souls. How many people were slaughtered? How many children died before even living? Did the unknowing let the wolves into their town with a welcoming hand and a smile, only to be butchered like sheep and hung to dry? The entire situation settled in her stomach like a stone. It was an avoidable predicament and all the death was so stupidly unnecessary it made her sick. If only the people of Plum had been more cautious, more astute. If only they'd been less blinded by their greed and self preservation.

If only they'd been less human.

How ironic.

Albel hadn't seemed to care. If he was as sickened as she, he didn't show it. He was ruthless with his blade and torch. He cut the villagers down with a look so cold and terrible, Nel was left trembling in his wake. Behead and burn was his mantra. Over and over his sword sang a merciless incantation of blood and death as he swept through Plum like a dark demon of vengeance. By the time he was finished, all were dead and he was bathed in red. His hair was thick with it, his face splattered and hands solid crimson. Only then had he turned those horrible eyes to her and relit his torch, walking the road through the village like a phantom, setting each building a blaze.

Never had Nel seen anything like it.

And she never wanted to again.

Nel gazed at her companion's back as they continued upward along the dark path. He remained on foot, leading the two lum, the lowly nag tied faithfully to the saddle horn of the beast Rusia rode. One hand rested lightly on his katana, his head constantly looking here and there for the possible enemy hiding within the thickening stand of trees. The lum blew harsh snorts through their noses, their large ears twitching forward and backward, heads jogging against the leads. They too, knew something was amiss with their faithful leader.

Astride her own beast, Nel could see Albel's movements stiffening, his strides growing shorter with each step. His lean body seemed to taper to one side, his hip hitching as he climbed the rocky path. She knew he was hurt, but how badly she couldn't tell. They'd have to stop soon, but for the moment she was inclined to let him press on. For some reason, she felt obligated to let him decided how far was a safe distance from Plum. She had a feeling he wouldn't stop until he was good and ready anyway.

Her thoughts drifted back to the woman Albel had grappled with. The images made her shudder and sent an spark of anger thrumming through her. No woman should have to endure such a violation of her body. Any creature capable of such shameless malevolence was nothing short of repugnant.

She knew Albel wasn't responsible. Not even he was that heinous.

Romero.

What did he have to do with all of this? Plum was far from Airyglyph. How could he possibly know where Albel was? Besides that, according to Rusia, the Tenma appeared several weeks before Fayt's capture. Unless Romero was psychic, which Nel highly doubted, there was no way for him to anticipate Albel's movements.

It didn't make any sense.

Was in coincidence?

Nel frowned. That hardly seemed likely either. It was too precise. Too calculated. She needed to know more about Romero. No doubt, he and his lackeys were going to be a constant thorn in their side. She hated not knowing her enemy. It felt like she was blind, and that made her nervous, especially considering the foe they were up against.

Who, exactly, was he? What did he want with Albel? The amount of effort put into harassing and tormenting hardly seemed worthy of a mere personal vendetta. Then again, Nel couldn't proclaim to know much about the minds of demons. What ever it was that the monster was after, he was obviously willing to go great lengths to get it.

The only one who knew anything about him was Albel. Getting him to talk was unlikely, and frankly, Nel was uncomfortable bringing up such a tender subject. He was such a private, and oddly enough, sensitive person. If she began questioning him now, he would no doubt close himself off even more, leaving her considerably lost in the dark. Still, he owed her an explanation and sooner or later, she would have to get him to talk.

They stopped at the base of the mountains, where the path became incredibly steep and treacherous. Albel made a wide, sweeping survey of the surrounding area, letting his eyes linger on the illuminated inferno of Plum far below. Nel took the opportunity to dismount, taking the leads from his loose grip. This far up, they were safe from the threat of wildfire, surrounded by granite and dense foliage.

"Albel," Nel said quietly, "I think we should rest for now."

He didn't bother to look at her. He didn't even give the slightest hint that he'd even heard her. He stood, a silent statue on the hillside, watching the blaze below with eyes full of profound hatred and anger. Nel could only leave him with his thoughts, but she spared him a worried glance as she made her way back to Rusia and Leylan. Words couldn't comfort him now and Nel wasn't even sure if she knew what to say.

"Is your friend going to be okay?" Rusia asked, giving a nervous glance in Albel's direction. It was obvious that she was terrified of the tall warrior. Nel didn't blame her. At the moment, she was a little afraid of him too.

"Probably," she lied, busying her hands with the ropes that secured Leylan to the stout nag. "He won't die, if that's what you mean." That was at least true for the moment. Albel's body was hurt, but those injuries could be healed with a simple spell or draught. It was the unseeable wounds that worried her the most.

Rusia gave Nel a perplexed look, confused by the grim tone of her voice. "Oh…that's good…I think," she stammered, reaching up to help with several of the knots. She relaxed when Albel moved off the trail and disappeared into the trees like a ghost. "He's quite…ah…resilient, isn't he?"

Nel glanced up from her work, looking to the place where Albel had stood. "I hope so, for his sake," she mumbled.

Rusia looked even more confused, but kept quiet. The two women carefully lifted Leylan from the old mare's back and laid him on the ground. Nel wadded up her cloak and gently placed it under his head. They boy grimaced and groaned, then grew still.

Nel gave a slight smile at his mother, "He'll be okay." Rusia let out a sigh of relief and folded her dirty skirts beneath her knees, settling down to watch as Nel readjusted the bandages around her son's chest. "I imagine he'll be awake in the next couple days," Nel said.

"Thank the gods," Rusia whispered, clasping her hands against her bosom, "and thank you too, Mistress Nel."

Nel shook her head. "Just Nel, please. And it's I who should be thanking your son. He's a very, very brave young man." She really did own Leylan her life. If he hadn't acted so quickly when the first villagers attacked, Nel had no delusions she would be another carcass hanging in their grotesque meat locker. Not only that, he attempted to keep them safe the moment they entered town, by offering them a place to stay. The boy was noble and courageous. If she could do anything to keep him alive and safe, Nel would see to it personally.

There was a look of pain on Rusia's face as she stared at her son. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and she clenched her hands in the heavy linen of her dress. "Something like this should never happen to someone like him," she said with a quaking voice. "What do I do now? Where do we go?"

Nel rocked back on her heels and crossed her arms across her knees. "You just pick up the pieces and move onward," she said sympathetically.

Rusia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "If only we'd been stronger of body and spirit, this would have never had happened. It's because we were weak that we were punished."

"No," Nel replied, shaking her head, "punishment has nothing to do with it. Tragedy doesn't discriminate, Rusia. It can happen to anyone, no matter how strong or how weak they are. No person is immune to misfortune."

"But neither you or your companion would have fallen for the Tenma's trick. Only foolish simpletons such as us…" There was warmth to her words.

A sad smile played across Nel's features. "You'd be surprised. We all make mistakes, even Albel and I. No human in his or her life can claim all their choices were wise." She reached over Leylan's prone body and touched Rusia's hand. "What defines us is how we deal with our failures. Do we learn and move on, or do we sit and dwell on what could have, what should have, been done? That, Rusia, is what sets the strong apart from the weak."

The older woman gave Nel a long look. After a pause, she smiled bashfully, and glanced away. "Listen to you, lecturing an old woman like me. You're quite wise for your age, Lady Nel. I don't dare guess where you gained all that wisdom." When she looked up, there was a knowing sadness in her face.

Nel chuckled slightly and stood, wiping her hands on her sarong. "Probably best you don't know anyway. Let's just say I've made many, many mistakes in my life." More than she cared to count. More than she could probably count.

Rusia ran her fingers though her sleeping son's hair. "I can only hope that one day Leylan will be as wise and as strong as yourself and your companion." Nel only nodded, but inside she prayed that the young man never gain the wisdom she or Albel had obtained in their short lives.

Ever.

The moon was high in the sky when Albel finally returned to the make-shift campsite Nel and Rusia had put together. He stepped across the light of the small fire and folded his lanky frame against a cold boulder. Nearby, Rusia dosed quietly with Leylan's head in her lap. Albel gave them an indifferent glance and pulled a leg up to his chest, resting his chin on his knee and letting his dark eyes watch the flames dance in the breeze.

Across the way, Nel studied his stony face. His eyes were empty, except for the tired lines of weariness they all wore. The adrenaline had long since thinned in their veins, leaving them all weary and in need of rest. She noted the deep purple of his left eye and the mottled discoloration in his cheek. His face was swollen, his lip split open into an angry red welt. "Nice shiner," she remarked dryly over the arm she had rested on her knee.

Failing to get a reaction, she sighed and stood up, dusting her backside with her hands. This wasn't the time for jokes. She'd been out of line, trying to goad him into an argument. Nerves were making her snippy and confrontational, anything to grasp some semblance of normalcy in an evening that was so completely unnatural.

She stepped across the clearing and knelt beside her unwilling ally, studying his injuries. Up close, the bruise appeared worse, his eye partially closed shut from the pressure. It wasn't just purple either, it was an ugly macramé of colors; blue, greenish yellow, and red. She glanced down his body, knowing he was hurt else where, but not certain where. His movements were far too stiff, as if his neck and arms were laden with wooden planks. The way his hip buckled when he walked indicated he'd injured something in his leg or back, which wasn't good.

Despite his victory, he'd taken quite the beating.

"Let me see your wounds," she said. She knew he'd heal them himself if he had the proper items, but the his medicinal pack was currently burning back in Plum. They'd only had time to grab one of the saddle packs and it held only water and food materials.

When she raised her hand to touch his face, Albel's reddish eyes slid to look at her. A long silence hung between them as they studied one another, as if waiting to see what might happen next. Finally Albel spoke, his voice a low growl, "I'm fine."

Nel's brows pinched together. "No, you're not. Just shut up and let me do this," she snapped. "Why is it so hard for you accept help? It won't kill you, you know."

Albel blew a huff of air through his nose and looked away. He didn't argue when Nel hesitantly touched her finger tips to his warm face. He flinched, but not as if she'd hurt him. It was more like a reflex, an aversion to her touching him. His entire body stiffened, his breath growing more restricted and shallow. Technically, she could heal him without having to lay a finger on him, but most healing spells were more efficient if there was contact.

"Relax," Nel said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

The look he gave her was skeptical.

Nel couldn't help but wonder at what point in his life had he become so contrary to another person's touch. His reaction, even to the most accidental of brushes, reminded her of whipping boy or abused child. Growing up in Airyglyph was hard, being a member of the military was even more difficult, but those reasons didn't explain his aversion to human contact. She knew nothing of his childhood, but his father had loved him enough to die for him and both Woltar and the King seemed concerned for his welfare. It wasn't as if he was surrounded by people who were uncaring and abusive.

How he managed to father a child was beyond Nel. That sort of contact was the closest, most intimate, two humans could be. Not only that, it often took several tries to produce an babe, so what had he done then? Put a bag over his head?

Or maybe he'd been lucky and managed it on the first try?

Doubtful.

He was still male. Sex was something his complex was probably willing to over look. When men were in the "mood", they could justify that the sky was made of marmalade and the moon was solid cheese, if it got them what they wanted.

Nel shook the images from her head, her cheeks flushing. She really shouldn't be thinking such things. It wasn't any of her business, though she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Albel's complexity was like a bad carriage wreck. She knew she shouldn't pay any attention, but it was impossible to ignore.

She glanced up and blushed even harder when she noticed he was looking at her, his rapidly healing face pulled into a curious frown. Jerking her hand away, she ducked into the shadows, using the dark to hide her embarrassment. "Uh…anywhere else?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I thought you said you weren't a liar?" she quipped, scowling at him and earning herself a nasty glare in return. "Let me see your back." He started to argue but Nel pointed a stern finger at him.

He closed his mouth and stood up, making a show of pulling off his tattered coat. When he was dressed in only his mesh undershirt and suede pants, he turned in a circle, spreading his arms wide. "Happy now?" he grumbled.

From the side and without his heavy coat, he was even more waifish. His body was mainly bones and with knots of ropey muscles. Nel could see the sharp angle of his collar bone and shoulder blade. Her eyes followed the line of his flat stomach to his angular hip protruding just above his pants line. It was there she noticed the deep gouge, still running red and caked with grime. She stepped close, moving behind him and saw several more seeping punctures dangerously close to his kidney. "You weren't going to tell me about these?" she asked, her tone hot with anger.

Albel shrugged. "I've had worse."

"That's not the point," she snapped, seeing the deep bruises along his lower back. Her hand went to his spine, her fingers probing the discolored areas carefully for broken bones. She was too angry with him to notice his skin jump beneath her fingertips. She would never understand his penchant for needless suffering. Was it so painful to admit he couldn't do everything on his own? She wanted to scold him for being so childish. Pride was important, but it meant nothing if it got a person killed.

When her hands glided close to his ribs and down his sides, he craned his neck back to look at her, and shifted uncomfortably. She touched the puncture marks and he yelped, pulling away. "These are pretty bad," she stated. "You're damn lucky they weren't deeper."

"If you're just going to poke at them, leave me be," he hissed, folding his arms about himself like a worried child.

Nel gave him an unsympathetic look but stopped her probing. She cast her spell, carefully laying her hands against the injuries, letting the healing warmth spill from her and into him. She took the moment to study him, noticing his face relaxing as the pain ebbed away. His frown eased into what vaguely resembled relief, the tension leaving his muscles as he unconsciously leaned into her hands.

His skin was warm and soft as it knitted beneath her fingertips. Nel wasn't sure why, but it surprised her. Albel's personality was so cold and apathetic she'd always assumed everything about him was glacial. Yet here she stood, his blood sticky on her hands, the warmth of his body permeating hers, and his pain evident upon his face.

She suddenly realized how badly she'd dehumanized him, seeing him only as an avatar of emotions instead of as a flesh and blood person. She wasn't the only one either. Albel the Wicked wasn't a human being, he was a nightmare among men, and icon of destruction. His name was connected with fear and carnage, but nothing else. No one ever tried to see if there was something more.

How many years had he lived with being less than a person, his humanity stripped away by his fellow man? No wonder he loathed the touch of others. He was no fool. He knew what they saw him as, and to protect himself, he rejected them as they rejected him. In his world, there was himself and the "maggots", "worms", or "fools".

Her guilt made her pull away and Albel cast a curious look at her over his shoulder. Nel was shaken, keeping her eyes to the ground. She fisted her hands, wanting to wipe them on her clothes in hopes of erasing her newfound knowledge, but she couldn't. He would see it as her trying to rid herself of his "filthy" residue.

He was an extremely sensitive individual, a trait she'd once categorized as pugnacious and captious. He was easily offended when people stared at him and quick to argue if someone disregarded his opinion when he felt inclined to give it. Years of being seen as inhuman had to get on a person's nerves and Albel was ardent enough to say so in his own way. Of course, when he did, he was just being "difficult".

It wasn't fair.

And it wasn't right.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

Nel bent over and picked up his cloak, schooling her eyes to hide her guilt. "Nothing," she lied, standing back up and holding the jacket out as if it was the most interesting thing she'd seen. "This has seen better days," she stated, poking a finger though a large hole. "I don't think its salvageable."

Albel snatched the jacket away, rolling it up and tucking it under one arm. "I have my cloak," he said, unamused. He touched his back where the punctures had been and gave a satisfied snort.

"You're welcome," Nel said, sitting down.

Albel sat too, close, but not too close. He tucked his legs up to his chest, his favorite sitting position. A long arm curled around one leg, his chin settling on his knee. His eyes closed, but Nel knew he wouldn't sleep. For a long while they sat in the dark, listening to the sound of the fire crackling and the noises of the night.

Nel had questions, ones she felt needed to be answered. "Albel," she asked, her voice quiet.

"It wasn't Romero," he replied, his eyes still shut.

She was a bit thrown when he premised what she intended to ask. "Then who?"

He was quiet a moment, but his eyes slid open and watched the flames dance in the breeze. "Avarice," he stated, saying the demon's name as if it tasted bad.

"Avarice? That doesn't tell me anything," Nel remarked, uncurling her legs and leaning forward. "Who is he and how do you know him?"

Albel's face grew dark, as if he was remembering something terrible. "He's one of Romero's underlings. He was at my manor in Airyglyph," he stated.

Nel's curiosity was perked instantly. She wanted to know exactly what had happened that night. Woltar had given her a brief synopsis, but he hadn't been present for the whole event, just the aftermath. She waited quietly for him to continue, but Albel remained silent. He wasn't going to elaborate. Not without being pushed and Nel wasn't sure she was ready to approach that subject.

"Okay. Why was he in Plum?"

"How the hell should I know?" Albel snapped. "Demons don't have reasons for doing things. Everything is a game to them."

Keeping her patience in check, Nel asked, "So we can expect him to come after us?"

Albel jogged his shoulders. "Maybe."

Nel sighed. "Work with me here, Albel. I'm trying to figure out how cautious we'll have to be from now on. I didn't ask to get caught up in your personal mess, you know."

The look he gave her was withering. "Then you should have left me back in Kirlsa."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"It means you should be careful. These demons don't care what our relationship is. If they think harming you will hurt me, you'll become a target." He stared at her, waiting for her reaction.

She surprised him by not appearing startled. "I figured as much," she replied, "but don't you think that kind of information is important?"

"I never really thought about it until now," he said in earnest.

Blinking, Nel bit her lip. Well, that was blunt. At least she knew where she stood with him. "Gee, thanks," she remarked sourly.

"Well, it wasn't like I was given much choice," Albel growled back. "Go or be tied up for the rest of my natural life. Which would you choose?" A look of disgust crossed his face and he muttered something about Woltar under his breath.

"Woltar threatened you?" she asked, frowning when he nodded. Airyglyph certainly had a strange way of getting their people to cooperate. She knew the two of them had some sort of deal going on and knowing Woltar, it would be particularly one sided, but she hadn't expected it to be so severe.

"Stop gawking. It's not the first time," Albel grumbled.

Nel shrugged. Glyphians were a strange bunch. "So what now? Will that Avarice character tell Romero where you are?"

Albel's lips thinned into a pale slash. "If I'm lucky," he replied.

Nel sighed and rubbed her eyes. Talking to Albel was exhausting. "Apris," she muttered. She found it hard to believe that Avarice being in Plum was a mere coincidence, but there was no other explanation. Apparently the reach of demons knew no boundaries, which was cause for concern. If Romero's lackey was here, no doubt he could easily find them.

If he didn't know their whereabouts already.

"So, what's the plan? You know more about these creatures than I do," she asked.

"Plan? There is no plan. Just get your mission done so I can go about my business. If we happen to run into Romero, I'll deal with him." Albel touched his sword, gripping the hilt so tight his knuckles bled white.

Nel leaned back against her rotting log and pinched her nose. She was getting a tremendous migraine. Her mission started out pretty straight forward. Not simple, but easy enough. Now it was turning into one big nightmare. Since leaving Kirlsa, nothing but misfortune fell into their path. It was like some tragic comedy, so absurd it was almost funny. She wasn't laughing, however. Following her gut instinct and leaving Albel in Kirlsa would have been for the best, but it was too late for regrets now. It wasn't necessarily his fault…not totally anyway, and blaming him seemed unfair.

She felt his eyes watching her and she looked up. "Well, I guess we'll just deal with things as they come," she replied.

A look of surprised passed over his face before he became suspicious once more. "What? You aren't going to get mad?"

Nel frowned at him. "What ever for? It's not like you meant for these things to happen to you."

Albel gazed at her hard, as if he was trying to sniff a lie. "Hn," he snorted, turning away.

Silence fell between them once more. The fire burned low, the wood blackened to lumps of charcoal, embers glowing brightly. Nel reached over and grabbed a piece of kindling, tossing it carelessly into the low flame. She leaned back, gazing at the stars which shone bright in the black sky.

She jumped when Albel's voice came out of the darkness.

"What was that garbage you were spewing earlier?"

"Huh?" she asked, touching her chest and trying to calm her fluttering heart.

He jerked his head in the direction of Ruisa and Leylan. "When you were talking with that blubbering wench."

Nel pulled herself up, squinting curiously into the shadows. "You were listening?"

"Huh. Some spy you are," he sniffed.

Nel gave him a look, though it bothered her she hadn't been aware he was nearby. "Well, I'll have to remember to be more careful. What do you care what Rusia and I were talking about?"

Albel concentrated on the darkness beyond the campsite. "They could be spies, you know." His eyes slid to look at the two new members of their party. "You don't know them. Don't you think it strange that they were the only people not effected by Avarice's magic?"

Glancing at the mother and son, Nel shook her head. "No, not really." She gave a brief explanation of the old woman and pendants, to which Albel scoffed.

"What if you're wrong?" he asked, his tone condescending.

"Then I'm wrong and I'll deal with it," she stated. "Like I said to Rusia, it's okay to make mistakes, but only if you learn something from them."

Albel waited for her to go on, a look of interest beneath his sullen mask. "So you're saying it's just fine to go out and screw up?"

Nel shook her head. "I never said that. Mistakes happen. Thinking things to death doesn't do any good either. The more a person worries about messing up, the more apt they are to blunder. I couldn't leave those two there, not knowing if they are truly ally or foe. I'd rather be wrong now than have it on my conscious that I abandoned two innocent people to that…that horror. Perhaps if circumstances were different, my choices would have changed, but we'll never know. Sometimes you just have to choose a path and hope for the best. I'm not afraid to be wrong."

"Even if someone gets hurt?"

Nel scratched her cheek, nonplussed at his question. "Sometimes it can't be helped. It's really no one's fault. What makes failure so horrible is when you keep making the same mistakes again and again."

Albel grimaced and looked away. "How ridiculous," he muttered. "Failure is just a product of weakness."

"Then by your reasoning, all people are weak because there isn't a man or woman alive who hasn't made a mistake sometime in their life."

Albel grew quiet, mulling over her words. His expression was melancholy, as if he was thinking of something equally depressing. His shoulders slumped and he rested his cheek on his knee once more. His dark eyes closed and he murmured so low Nel had to strain to hear him, "I suppose there are fools who never learn." He gave a dismal chuckle and grew silent.

For a moment, Nel thought he was making some jab at her character and opened her mouth to defend herself. Instead, the realization hit her so suddenly she gaped at her quiet companion.

He was talking about himself.

Sorry for the short delay. I've been pretty busy here, especially with work and finding the time to actually sit down and write has been difficult. I can't write when I'm tired…things just don't come out well (as you can see). This chapter is a bit of a transition, so its kinda dull. I hate doing chapters like this, because I want to write the fun stuff instead. As for Albel and Nel's relationship, just keep watching…(god, I hope things turn out as I intend them too...) ha ha ha