Author's Note: Wow, I'm up late tonight... O-O; 11:17 p.m... and I'm not tired at all...
FoxFury: "Albel, you bitch." XD -dies laughing-
Gemelli: I was quite fond of Albel's "HOLY SHIT!" reaction, as well... and the temper tantrum... seemed appropriate, considering the situation. I doubt many of the people he's killed have ever come back to say "Hi, how ya doin'?"
Pyroclastic Flow: I was kidding about Apris, dear. -sweatdrop- And as for a life... yeah, I have one of those... at times. When I'm not online... (mutters: Whenever that is...) ...and as you can see, even school doesn't slow me down! Good lord, I'm Superwriterwoman! -hurries to copyright this name-
Warnings: shounen-ai, Fayt (Yes, I figured you needed to be warned that Fayt was in this chapter. XD)
Pairing: Romero and Albel
Afterlife
LeFox
Chapter Five: The Funeral
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A cemetary spread out around him, gloomy and unkempt since the old caretaker had passed away, lined with rows and rows of tombstones. Some were cracked and faded, the names barely more than a shadow on their weathered faces. Once-majestic angel statues now stood as a forlorn tribute to those they protected, their wings cracked, their faces worn away by time. Weeds and grass grew wild around the graves; ivy crept up the stones. Mausoleums stood firmly, fighting against the inevitable corrosion. Some of the names were gone, some still stood out magnificently - recent burials, the buildings had been restored by mourning relatives. Toward the end of the row they were walking down was a lone, proud and steadfast, almost as if it had taken on the duty of protecting the rest of the dead. They were walking toward this grave.
"What is this place?" Albel asked warily, though he knew precisely where they were. The cemetary just outside of Airyglyph. "...Why here?" Romero looked at him somberly.
"A renowned Glyphian soldier was killed two days ago," he replied slowly, carefully. "They found his body in the dungeons of the castle, as well as the bodies of six of his subordinates." Albel's eyes widened in shock, but Romero took no notice. "The king wished for this soldier to be buried in the military cemetary in the courtyard of the castle. Count Woltar of Kirlsa, however, believed he would find rest easier here, in this very cemetary, where he can be laid to rest beside his father."
Albel's eyes fell on the grave they were approaching. His face was ashen as he studied the familiar name - Glou Nox. And beside it, a recently-dug grave, still unoccupied. Albel looked at the name. Sure enough, it read:
ALBEL NOX
Captain of the Black Brigade
How impersonal and uncaring it looked. Was there anyone who missed him? Most likely not; he'd never done much for anyone else in his lifetime. It would be wrong to expect it from anyone else.
"...I'm dead," he muttered disdainfully.
"Of course you are," Romero replied, his face unreadable. "I killed you."
"And you brought me here to watch my own funeral."
Romero nodded. "I did. I thought you might enjoy it."
"Hmph." They walked past the graves in silence. It was the perfect day for such a dreary occasion... the wintry sky was grey, blotched with dark clouds. Snow fell languorously, sticking to the dying grass. A few flowers, left by the families of those who were buried, were wilting and browning atop the graves. The wind was cold and sharp, biting at Albel's skin. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. Romero, on the other hand, seemed perfectly serene if not a bit saddened as he stood above Albel's grave.
"I can't say I regret it," he said after a moment. "I knew what I intended to do with you the moment I saw you."
Albel found he had nothing to say. He merely shrugged. The demon didn't seem to expect a response - he simply continued staring at the empty grave. The cold air whipped around them almost violently, but Romero didn't so much as bat an eyelash... Albel, on the other hand, moved to stand behind him. If Romero wasn't affected by the cold, well, dammit, he could serve as a shield against the wind. In all the years Albel had lived in and around the city of Airyglyph, he had never grown used to the cold.
"I don't feel it," Romero said softly, glancing at him over his shoulder. "The cold, that is. I can't feel it." Good for you, Albel wanted to snap at him, but he succeeded only in chattering his teeth threateningly. Romero smiled, looking amused. Ah, right. The accursed demon could read his thoughts. Damn.
"If I had something to offer to keep you warm, I would." The King of the Dead kicked some loose dirt into the grave, shrugging. "But, alas, I don't. Forgive me."
"It'd be easier to forgive you if we could just get this over with," Albel snarled, teeth chattering as he spoke. "I'd freeze to death if you hadn't already killed me." Romero laughed. The sound echoed out across the lonely graveyard, sending chills down Albel's spine. The demon's arm wrapped amiably around his shoulders. They stood together, two souls among a field of deceased beings...
"It's beginning," Romero whispered, pointing across the cemetary to a group of approaching men, carrying a casket. Albel looked up questioningly. "No," Romero answered the unspoken question. "They cannot see or hear us, unless we wish for them to do so."
Albel watched, mesmerized, as the men approached. He recognized many of them at a distance... King Airyglyph XIII, a handful of his soldiers (one of which had accompanied him back to Airyglyph shortly before he was charged with treason. Albel was relieved to see this one; he was a compassionate and thoughtful man who had joined the war to protect his home and family. Albel had believed he had been killed in the war), and Count Woltar were the easiest to pick out. But in the back were some equally familiar faces, many of which he had hoped never to see again after the dust settled...
Fayt Leingod, Nel Zelpher, Clair Lasbard, her father, Maria Traydor, and even the Queen of Aquaria herself had come to his funeral... he wondered for a moment whether he should feel flattered that they would go to all the trouble. Then he scowled. Why did they bother? Fayt and Maria didn't even belong on this planet, let alone at his funeral. And the Aquarians... what were they doing here? He felt almost insulted that they would dare to show up, and he snarled from his invisible hiding place (which, oddly enough, was right out in the open). Glancing up, he realized that Romero had been staring at him... no doubt gauging his reaction thus far.
"...Why are they here?" he hissed sharply, jerking his head in their direction. "Who told them to come?"
Romero sighed, tucking his chin on Albel's shoulder. "They came of their own accord... they were your companions through incredible trials, you know. In their minds, you were their friend."
"Fools." Was Albel's only response. He returned to staring at the funeral procession, ignoring the demon behind him. Romero's hands slid almost eagerly to his waist, resting on his hips. His cool lips grazed against Albel's neck, gradually inching toward his earlobe, as Albel struggled to focus on what was being said.
"He never had the chance to become the soldier his father was," Woltar was saying, "But he was well on his way. Though he lacked discipline-" ("Bah!" Albel spat contemptuously.) "-he fought bravely and wisely in battle. Albel refused to fight those who couldn't pose a challenge to him. As you all know, he was once punished for this very action - some of you know firsthand what occured at this time." m nodded to Fayt and Nel. "Some of us may never know. What we do know is that the loss of Albel Nox is one that will surely effect the Black Brigade, as well as the entire Glyphian Army, for many years to come."
"I think I should cry or something." Albel said flatly, tipping his head sideways to give Romero access to more skin. Obviously, he wasn't moved in the slightest by Woltar's speech. If anything, he seemed bored with the whole affair. "And I swear, if that fool of a hero decides to make a speech, we're leaving whether you like it or not." Romero laughed softly in response, nipping at his neck.
The speeches continued. Some of the soldiers spoke of what a "fine leader" he was, and how "brave and loyal" he was in battle. Fayt - who, much to Albel's mortification, made a five-minute-long speech - told the world how he had helped in the battle against the Executioners and, ultimately, Luther. It was clear that many of those present had no idea what the boy was talking about... but they nodded and applauded politely and respectfully, all the same. The King had very little to say. Most of what he did say revolved mostly around how Albel had taken control of the Crimson Scourge, and had thereby taken up his father's legacy and blah-blah-blah... it was all rather sentimental and dull.
And finally, Albel watched them lower the casket into the ground.
It hit him quite suddenly that that was him in there, that was his body, and he was really and truly dead. He would never speak to any of these people again; he would never have to see them again if he didn't wish to. He no longer served King Airyglyph XIII. He wasn't a slave to Airyglyph anymore. He didn't have to hate the Aquarians now. He was dead. He was dead! And now, he would become just another fallen warrior... just another name in the history books... just another loyal servant to the kingdom... and who would remember him as Albel Nox, rather than Albel the Wicked? Who would remember the eager, confident fifteen-year-old boy he had been before the Accession of the Flame ceremony; who would remember the hours he spent training after that day; who would remember the man he had become? Someday, no one who had ever known him would be alive... they would pass to Oblivion. And what would become of him...?
He stumbled, landing quite squarely in Romero's arms. He looked up at the demon, blinking in amazement. This was his master. This was what he had to live for now, in his afterlife.
Author's Note: Chapter Five - check... stupid wouldn't let me sign in...
