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Time. Something we all have, but can never own. A fleeting thing that takes a lifetime to understand and an instant to lose.

Prelude to the Soul

Chapter Two

Clair paced the floor beside the table. "I'm sorry, but this is an order straight from the Holy Mother herself."

Nel involuntarily winced at the word holy. Sitting at the table she kept her face buried in her hand. "So she thinks the same?"

Clair leaned on the table opposite of Nel. "If you don't stop Nel, you'll end up killing yourself and your subordinates."

"Kill them?" Nel responded in aggravation. She lifted her head and looked her friend in the eye. "If they are unable to learn then it will be their incompetence that kills them!"

"You are pushing them and yourself too hard."

Nel pushed herself up on her arms and stood. "No, I'm not pushing anyone hard enough. If war starts and they are not ready then we can only expect failure."

Clair gave her a stern look. "Everyone agrees that you need this. You are not conducting yourself accordingly. You need a break and you're going to take a break. You are not to return to work for a month. I don't care if you spend the whole month locked in your room."

Nel half growled at her. "Fine! It's not like I have a choice in this anyway." She pushed herself off the table and turned to the door.

"Nel," Clair called. "Please, try to calm yourself. Really, you're acting more like Albel then yourself."

Nel didn't respond. She walked hastily out of the room, out of the mansion and into the dusk. Her mind was half numb and all she wanted to do was break down into tears. But her pride was too stubborn.

Holding on to any dignity she had, she made a straight path to the shop before it closed. After a quick walk through she left with the supplies she would need. After packing the bag she had purchased with the supplies, she set it over her shoulder and left Arias.

She walked the path until she was halfway to Kirlsa before leaving it and settling herself near the rocks. She was hurt by Clair's words. She was hurt by the way she was looked at by her friends and the queen. In essence, she was hurt by everything.

She could admit to herself that Clair was right. She was pushing everyone too hard. But she didn't push anyone harder then herself. She was doing anything she could to escape the memories that haunted her.

She dropped her bag and shook her head. "Oh Apris, what am I doing?" She chuckled sarcastically at herself. Old habits were hard to break. "Yeah, Apris…Just a name, Nel. Just a name. A name with no damn meaning!"

She gritted her teeth. Ever since facing 'The Owner' she had felt angry. She was angry at herself, at all her teachings… She was angry at everything and everyone. There was no one she could talk to that would understand. No one she could expect to believe that she had confirmed all the teachings of the church as a lie.

She set up camp. For tonight she would separate herself from everyone; something she had been reluctant to do since she had gotten back to Elicoor. In truth she was scared to be alone. She was afraid that everyone would disappear. As stupid as the idea was, it hung heavy on her. Her burden was her own. She refused to share it with anyone but pleaded at the same time for someone to lighten the load.

She knew it was up to her to help herself. The things she kept inside were eating her alive. She needed to let go and move on; but that was easier said then done. She had come to that conclusion but had no idea how to make it happen.

She poked the fire, bringing more life to the blaze. She knew she wasn't acting like herself. She knew she was alienating those around her. Somehow she had a month to fix it. She only hoped it would be enough time.

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The days had grown dull and almost unbearably boring. The day that had just passed was no exception. Albel shifted his weight as he stood outside the mansion doors. Woltar had just excused him and he wasn't due back at the castle for a few days.

Still, a few days were a few days. He watched in silence as the last of the purple hazy drowned from the horizon. Without a word he walked through the mansion gates and into the street. His mind was not set on a destination as his feet set in the habit of motion.

He hardly noticed the ground that moved under him. With each step he took he made multiple attempts not to think. His depression had only worsened and he felt more lost then ever. Of all the burdens he carried; one weighed heavier on his heart. That was the fight he had endured shortly after his return home.

Luther had been a mad man drunk on power. The power he had was never meant to be handled by any human. No mortal could contain that power and corruption was inevitable. Luther's actions were not excusable, only understood. Albel's understanding of the man who claimed to be a god was his weapon. It was the only weapon that helped him when he was faced with an evil greater then he had ever faced.

He had never spoke of his encounter; and doubted he ever would. He felt no guilt when he reported back to the king. He had no second thoughts when he announced he was unable to find the missing me. He hadn't lied. Those men were gone before he set foot in the catacombs. Forever gone.

He winced involuntarily at his thoughts. He supposed he had Luther to thank – along with that worthless group of fools – for his survival. Knowledge was true power. He almost laughed at himself. Not long ago he would have called himself weak. But now he wouldn't – couldn't call such actions weak. Not when intelligence had kept him alive where brute strength and battle skills had failed. He now understood the difference between battle intelligence and wisdom.

He still lacked a lot of the latter. So did everyone. Wisdom was a thing that no man could fully comprehend nor wield. Not complete wisdom.

Unnoticed to him, his walk had taken him outside of Kirlsa and into the Aire Hills. He stopped and looked up at the stars. It never ceased to amaze him. His problems were so large to him, but so miniscule compared to the vastness of everything. He was nothing more then a speck. Yet the burdens he carried felt universal.

Out of the silence of night a small sound drew his attention from the sky. It was faint but easily identified. It was a sound he wouldn't allow himself to issue but one he heard every time he closed his eyes.

Someone was crying.

The cries were soft whispers floating nearly undetected on the wind. Each sob rang through his whole body and like a beacon he was drawn to it. He cautiously neared the edge of a rocky slope and hesitated. As idiotic as he felt, he couldn't help but prolong himself. His subconscious fear was to look around the obstacle in his path and see himself crying.

He walked a thin line between sanity and insanity; and he knew it.

Taking a hard swallow, he forced his eyes to view the source of the suffering. His eyes widened slightly with shock. There was a small camp set up. One tent, one small fire and only one occupant sat nestled in the open grove of the rocky wall. She had her knees drawn to her chest and her eyes fixed on the fire before her. He recognized her through unbelieving eyes. Her face was pale, her eyes distant and she was crying softly.

He viewed her side from a position that would hide him almost completely. He was surprised that his presence went undetected by her. It was obvious to him that her pain drowned out her skills as a spy.

Anger flared through him. The woman sat alone and was unaware of her surroundings. It was a silent suicide to do such and he had to fight back the urge to yell at her. She was vulnerable in so many ways that he didn't know exactly how to react. As much as he knew she needed a shoulder; he wanted to show her his blade instead.

She moved sluggishly to lie on her side. The top of her head now faced him as she closed her eyes. Before long her chest rose and fell to the rhythm of sleep.

"Fool! She'll be dead by morning," he thought. The grove she had chosen was surrounded on all sides but one with rocky unforgiving terrain. The odds of an attack from any of those sides as slim. But nothing would prevent an attack from the side that was clear and obstacle free. The side he stood on as he watched her.

He turned away from the sleeping woman and stood with his back to the rocks. He had nowhere to be and no need to move. He grunted too softly to issue any noise as he sat on the ground. Occasionally his eyes would drift over to the camp.

He was unaware that in that silence he was sharing his solitude.

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The first rays of light danced along her closed eyes; forcing her to open them. Upon waking, Nel cringed at her own disappointment. Though she did not want to die, she had not wanted to wake either. She felt herself in contradiction and turmoil.

She sat up and pushed the blanket off. The warm fabric fell beside the cold spot that once housed a small fire. For a long moment she looked at the rocks in front of her; blinking and yawning. When she did move, she gathered the blanket and placed it back in her bag.

She paused and darted her head around the area. She was well aware of the state she had been in the night before, but she also knew she was not one to wake in the middle of the night and not remember her actions. She was sure that she had not remove the blanket from her bag.

When her scan didn't turn up anything she checked her bag. Everything was as it should be. Finally she inspected the ground around her. It didn't take long for her eyes to find a second set of footprints.

She jumped up quickly and approached the opening to the crevasse she had chosen. The land was clear from any intruder. Whoever had been there was gone; leaving only a small hint that someone was there to begin with.

Her first thought was that Clair had followed her. Clair always worried for her and these actions would be very much like something she would do. But the footprints indicated otherwise. The prints were too large to be Clair's. These prints pointed to the fact that the intruder was most likely a male rather than female.

It was disturbing to realize that her spy instincts had not alerted her to the presence of an intruder. Had she been so out of it that she was losing her skills? Perhaps Clair was right; her current mind set would do nothing but harm. It could have gotten her killed.

She tried to push her curiosity to the side as she gathered her supplies. She wondered who would cover her in the night. Who would sit at the rocks and not wake her. Once her things were packed, she inspected the ground again.

Her visitor was clearly a man. He had entered her camp only once to remove the blanket from her bag and had spent the rest of his time sitting in one spot. The thing that puzzled her the most was who it could have been.

Adray would never have done such a thing without waking her. He would have insisted that she talk to him. Any of her male subordinates would have been too noisy to pull off a stunt and not alert her.

She found her way back to the path and stopped. She did not want to return to Arias. Her only option now was to head to Kirlsa. She hoped that some time away from home would help. For her own sake, she had to find someway out of her despair.

End Chapter 2


Blue's Afterthoughts: This is the result of editing All in All and then starting on the second chapter of this one. Honestly, out of all of them I see Nel having the hardest time coping with the fact that they are 'programs'. And I was also working on my other fic and like CAT pointed out in the review – Nel has a ruthless streak. I can see her becoming angry at herself as a sort of 'self defense' mechanism. But she's also level headed enough to understand herself and know she's channeling her anger in the wrong way.

As pointed out by BlueTrillium – I'm hinting to the encounter with Romero but don't know if I'll go into any detail. Honestly I wouldn't know how unless it just hit me out of the blue. What I see though is the battle with Romero being more of a mental fight then a physical fight (as I hinted to in this chapter). I did think it would be a little helpful to Albel to see that others have problems also – though his problems aren't shared it might help him not to feel so alone.

Okay, that's all for the author's notes. I need to stop before I make this longer then the chapter itself. My minds on overtime – I'm feeling philosophical.