-Aftermath-
Chapter Five - "Influences"
Snyde walked aimlessly down the streets of Mejak. Deciding to have only a couple of hours to sleep, he snuck out of the medical bay and made his way down the dark streets. He couldn't see very well, until the morning came, lighting up the sky. Taking a look around him, he finally got a look at what the town of Mejak was truly like.
To put it in kind words, it was a mess. Most of the town, which like Vurious and Tagechi was made of metal, had been replaced by cheap, rotted wood. People, children no less, littered the street, wearing nothing but torn clothes. Some didn't even have clothes. If anyone wanted to see a place where the Elf Wars influence had been greatly affected, this was definitely the place to be. Right then, however, Snyde was in desperate need of a drink. Stumbling along the filthy streets, he opened a door into a pub. It seemed fair enough, with bar stools and tables. Grabbing a seat, he put a hand on his face and muttered, "I'll have a glass of sake."
"Comin' right up," the bartender replied, and quickly poured a small cup, handing it over. Snyde pulled his mask down and slugged it, slamming the cheap tin on the counter. He had to admit, that the people here were pretty friendly. A lot friendlier than he would ever expect. It almost made him feel bad for ditching that nurse back at the Rideserver... almost.
"Hey, hey, did you hear the news?" a Reploid behind him was having a small chat with another.
"What?" the other asked.
"Chester joined that searching party..."
"Damn, him too? Soon this whole town will be looking for that girl."
"Yeah, but I suppose its not all that bad. Whoever finds her will get payed big bucks by her pop."
"Him! Shoot, we'd better get started then. That opera freak is loaded!"
That was enough to get Snyde up, tossing a couple of zenny on the counter. Trying to act casual, he strode out of the place, still slightly thirsty. But who could pass up an opportunity to make some quick cash? Even though he had a miserable time, that Ride Chaser wasn't cheap, and he needed to go back on the prowl for some more money. All this meant was for him was a chance to get out there and do something.
First on business, finding the opera fanatic. He had gotten some wind that there was an opera house on the outskirts of town, and he had to find it. Now, he was no pro at finding stuff, but he guessed that the opera house would definitely NOT be in the same direction of the Rideservers, which was to the east. Instead, he went to the west, and noticed a slight change of scenery. Namely, there was construction going on, and the buildings looked less shabby. And there were less sad, gloomy faces too, and that was always a good thing. It appeared that Mejak was slowly but surely coming back, but it still didn't relieve him of the fact that Neo Arcadia would be coming soon. Neo Arcadia...
Soon it became apparent that the house was the only structure that was away from everything else. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the building itself was decorated with vibrant colors, as if an artist had come and went absolutely crazy with his paint brush. In front of the doorway he saw a middle aged human pacing about. His small mustache and blond hair, while it looked as if it was originally well kept, had been messed with, as it had fallen apart more than likely his own hands, which were now behind his back. He wore a suit and tie, which made Snyde realize that he must have been someone of importance there.
"Oh dear me... Dear me!" he was sweating profusely. He occasionally pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead, and he was slightly pale, almost as if he hadn't slept for days on end. For a second he stopped and cried, "Whatever will I do? What if she's hurt? I'd never be able to live with myself!" He then went back to his constant pacing.
Figuring that he was the guy, Snyde approached him, just a little too casually. "Hey, are you that opera guy?" That apparently struck a nerve as he received a deep scowl, all of the wrinkles on the man's face apparent.
"Opera guy! I am Quisar Holdurm, the one and only!" he gave a brief overlook, "And just who the heck are you?"
"Feh, if that's the way your going to treat me," Snyde started to walk away, brushing him off, "then I'm not going to help you."
"Oh! Wait, please wait!" he grabbed him by the wrist and turned him around. Giving a deep sigh, he bowed. "I am terribly sorry, sir. My daughter was kidnapped... And I have been on the edge ever since."
"Kidnapped?" Snyde questioned him. "I heard she just ran away."
"Hah! Ran away? My poor, sweet little girl? Nonsense!" he scoffed. "I happen to have a letter, right here. Read it if you must."
More than willing to, Snyde took the envelope and stared at it. What a strange way of communication. Most people, despite how badly their town's condition was, still used computers. Unfolding the paper inside, he also noticed that it was written in pen, a very fancy handwriting at that. All that aside, he started to read the contents, which contained:
My Dearest Gloria,
Today, you shall be mine. I will be coming for you in the morning. And with that, we shall be wed in the most suitable of all.
-FlachionSnyde put the letter away, and handed it back. "How old is the letter?"
"Oh..." Quisar suddenly got paler, and put his hand on his forehead. "It was a week ago... My poor Gloria... she's probably already married to that barbarian, Flachion!" He began to pace again, this time even more frantic. "Flachion, that Reploid cur... he stole her in the middle of the night! My life is ruined!"
He then started to cry. Feeling pity for him, he put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "Listen, stop crying. I'll go get her. Where does this Flachion mostly hang out?"
There was a moment of silence, something that Snyde found quite odd since he did not start it. Quisar opened his mouth as if to say something, but promptly shut it. Taking the opportunity, Snyde began to wonder just where could this... Flachion, have possibly of taken a girl without getting any kind of attention. He knew that some people were searching for her around the town, and quite possibly on the outskirts, but it probably wouldn't be enough. Still, he waited for Quisar, and after a few minutes Snyde began to tap his foot, impatient.
"Well?" he asked, finally.
"I don't know!" he whined, lifting his head to cover his eyes, sobbing. "I never bothered myself to follow him around! All I know is that he loves to make an entrance... Perhaps if your lucky, he'd show up during an opera performance..." He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his nose, before crying hysterically again. "Oh! But it no use! With her gone there would be no reason for him to ever return! All hope is lost!"
"Hm, opera," he pondered on that. "Never watched the stuff." It was then he crossed his arms, and started to go into some deep thought. "Yeah... it's a shame that letter doesn't help at us all..." He closed his eyes to help concentrate, but quickly snapped them back open. "Wait a sec. Maybe there is some sort of clue that can help us out. Lemme see that letter again." Re-reading the letter, he pointed his finger and shouted "There!" Quisar leaned in to see what he was looking at. "'And with that, we shall wed in the most suitable of all.' He'll be coming back to the opera house to marry!"
"What! No way! No way!" Quisar yelled, angry. "Just how do you interpret that? And if it is the truth, then why hasn't he gotten it over with? And furthermore, if this is the truth, then how dare he insult me and my family!"
"A place suitable for all," he began, "means that its somewhere they can both agree on. Obviously, Gloria would want to come here, since you run the place. Flachion would follow to make her happy. My guess in why its taken so long is for preparation issues."
"P-preparations, sir!" he nearly choked out.
Snyde shrugged. "Yeah, after all, you said he likes to make an entrance."
"T-that's t-true..." he stuttered, slowly taking in all of the information. "I can't believe you figured it out this quickly, though. You must stay and wait for him! I beg of you!" He began to pull on his arm, on the verge of crying yet again.
"Okay, okay. Relax," he shook him off. He needed his arm where it was. "When does the next performance start?"
Pulling out his watch, he gasped as he declared that the next show, "The Fantasy," had just started. The two bolted through the main door, up the stairs, and right up into an unoccupied balcony seat as they began to observe. For Snyde, the show itself was actually rather interesting, singing aside. It dealt mainly with two opposing groups, the empire, who wanted world conquest, and the other, some small organization, to protect the innocent, battling it out. In the end, however, both sides completely annihilated one another. By the time it was over, both Snyde and Quisar had realized that Flachion and his bride-to-be were not coming any time soon.
"So... what do we do?" he asked rather stupidly.
"Now?" Quisar looked at him, as if begging. "We wait. There's one more performance today. If he doesn't show up then, you'll have to promise me to come back tomorrow!"
"Uh..." Snyde started to trail off, but caught himself. "...Do you show the same exact thing?"
"For only a set amount of time. We'll be showing the same performance for all of this week."
He sighed. "Great..."
The next show started an hour later. Quisar didn't lie as it was exactly the same as the last one. While Snyde did in fact pick up some more things that he missed the first time, he grew bored fairly quick, and started to nod off. After the performance had ended, it was nighttime. He was offered to spend the night at the opera, which he was more than willing to oblige. The next day, he sat back down with Quisar and watched "The Fantasy" for a third time, not even interested in it. By the fourth show, the only thing that was capable of keeping him awake was constantly being shook to have an eye out for anything suspicious. Four more days went by like this, and by the fifth, he had given up all hope.
"...Quisar."
"Hmm?" he hummed. It seemed to him that he was drinking heavy amounts of coffee so he could stay up. "What is it, sir?"
"If Flachion doesn't show up today..." he thought his next words carefully. "I'm going to leave. I can't wait around forever."
"Wha...?" he whimpered pathetically. Snyde could have sworn he saw a tear go down his cheek. "But... this is the last of the same shows! Honest! Just one more day..."
"And this is the last day," he cut him off. "I have other stuff to do. If he shows up, great. If not, then I'm out."
There was a pause of silence, and Snyde grew rather uncomfortable not liking to be on the opposite end of the treatment. Finally letting out a small sigh, Quisar lowered his head. "Yes, I understand, sir... I have been most selfish. My apologies."
"Forget it," he faced the stage. "Let's just enjoy this little show, shall we?"
"Ah yes, of course!" he nodded and smiled.
The two continued to watch "The Fantasy." As usual, Snyde began nodding off, though this time it was a bit later, around the second scenario. Vean, the greatest soldier of the empire, had just betrayed his own men, finally realizing that what he was doing was wrong, and joined the good guys. When had taken down his best friend, he was just prepared to stab him in the chest with his lance, when the lights overhead began to flicker. The crowd murmured, wondering what was going on, as everything went dark.
"What!" Quisar screeched, and started to tug on Snyde's arm. "Snyde, Snyde! Wake up! Somethings happening!"
"Huh... what...?" he mumbled. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked in confusion as he saw that it wasn't his eyes that weren't working properly. "What's going on here?"
"I think it's Flachion, sir!"
At that moment, a beam of light shot down on the center stage, blinding most of the people there. A rope then fell down, and man, with a large, dark-gray coat and long, black hair slid down, while carrying a young, blond-haired woman in his arms, who wore a white dress. He had many scars littering his face, the most notable being the long, wide scar that went right through his eye, the stitches on both ends crudely placed together. He also donned a black undershirt behind his coat, with some blue pants, which were torn from the knees, due to his large, nicked up boots.
The woman, while very lovely in appearance, had a sad look to her, as if she did not want to be there. She probably could have cried right on the spot, upon noticing a certain individual.
"Gloria!" Quisar had ran down from the balcony and made his way onto the stage, not carrying for the shows success.
"Father..." she spoke quietly.
"Flachion! You let her go this instant!" he barked at the man, who had a curled a small smile on his face.
"Quisar, you'd best be happy that I decided to come here," he said, a flow of elegancy behind his voice. "If it wasn't for me being so madly in love with your daughter, I would have married in a more... appropriate landscape."
"You idiot!" he yelled back. "You're obsession has ruined both of our lives! If you loved her so much then why the heck does she have a look of fear? Are you so lost that you can so easily neglect the one thing that truly matters!"
"And what would that be?" Flachion retorted.
"I believe they call it 'ones feelings,'" a voice echoed.
"What?" he frowned. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
Snyde hopped down from the rafters, directly in front of Flachion. Startled by the appearance, his grip on Gloria was let go and she ran for her father. He tried not to show his anger by keeping a straight face, only visible thing setting him off was the small vein throbbing above his temple.
"Who do you think you are?" he asked quietly, being polite as can be.
"My name is none of your damn business, kid," Snyde said flatly, pulling out his sword. "If you were smart, I'd tell you to leave now."
"Ah, a wise guy, eh?" he cracked a smile, seemingly pleased to be threatened like that. "I suppose you've never heard that I have trouble listening to orders..."
"Shame then, since you'll die," he clutched the handle even tighter, and narrowed his eyes. Flachion also withdrew a small dagger from under his long coat. It seemed that he had anticipated someone trying to stop him, and that's why he wore regular clothes instead of a tuxedo. The actors of the opera, realizing what was about to happen, took no time in deciding to make a break for the exit, dropping any props that they might have been holding at the time.
"Oh, might as well not ruin this..." Quisar said to himself as he faced the maestro and whispered, "Start playing some music. Make it hectic!"
The maestro nodded and signaled for the band and orchestra to begin playing. It was a fast, yet steady beat. A split second after playing, both Snyde and Flachion charged, clamouring their weapons upon one another. While some would assume that Snyde's sword would easily prevail over the small, insignifacent dagger of Flachion's, this was not the case. While the sword delivered a more powerful blow, it was heavier, allowing for many small jabs to be taken at him. But given its size, he was able to successfully dodge almost everything thrown at him. With only a few scratches, the assault continued.
"Hah, is that the best you can come up with?" Flachion mocked him, attempting another jab.
Snyde dodged and swung his blade. "A lot of talk comin' from a guy who kidnapps women."
"Bah," he scowled as he jumped out of the way. "You need to learn to relax!" With that he took out three more daggers and threw them at Snyde. Watching him easily deflect the projectiles, he whistled at his speed and repeated the process again.
Continually blocking the daggers, Snyde knew that he would have to go offensive soon. Still, he covered himself from yet another set before evening the odds. Sticking one foot out in front of him, he swung his sword behind him, and then lobbed at Flachion like a handaxe. Seeing the move being prepared before hand, however, gave ample time to dodge both it and the return strike. Snyde calmly caught his blade and stared his foe down.
"Looks like I've underestimated you," Flachion commented, withdrawing another dagger.
"Shut up and fight," Snyde commanded as he jumped with his sword extended. Smashing it into the cold metal under him, he grimaced as his gut met the tip of one of the daggers. Coughing slightly, he grabbed and removed it, tossing it at Flachion's feet. Now covering his open wound, Snyde grimaced as realization that he could possibly lose dawned on him. "This... looks pretty bad..."
"You just realized that? You're so hopeless," Flachion chuckled. "I think I'll allow the virus to do the rest of the dirty work."
His eyes widened at what he heard. "V-virus? Urgh..." Suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him, Snyde tried his best to resist the urge to close his eyes, knowing that it would be a fatile mistake. "What have you... done..."
All he could see was a small, evil grin spread across his face, before getting struck with three more knives. Not even capable of screaming, he collapsed to the floor, only able to watch as Flachion's footsteps grew ever closer. Funny, though, as he could have sworn that the music slowed to a low, heavy beat. It suited his current mood so well. In a matter, of seconds, with Flachion right on top of him, everything finally went black, and he could no longer hear the music, if it was playing at all anymore...
To be continued...
Author's Notes: Ahh, yes. Chapter Five was an odd one to write for me, personally. I couldn't think of a good name for the title of this chapter, that was capable of capturing whatever essense was within this piece. Also, I had something else planned... but I decided to save it for a little while later. I think it was rather pleasing in the end, after someslight tweaks here and there.
And so, we have Flachion, who has kidnapped our beloved Snyde. Just what shall happen next? Stay tuned... the true plot of this little story is finally about to unfold...