As usual, c'est moi with chapter three. Which makes this officially the longest chaptered fic I've got on FFnet right now. Wicked, non? For those who are curious what I do with my spare time that comes from writing short chapters, I have just drawn a diva monkey with sunglasses on a piece of paper towel. Complete with fancy cigarette holder. Now are you happy?
Anyway, to answer a few questions from the last chapter. The boy (who still doesn't have a name because I can't think of one- ideas please!) is one of the two children Zelos saved when the slums got cleared out. His half sister ran back to her mommy, but he had nowhere else to go and has basically stalked Zelos since, who got used to him since and is trying to teach him to fight. (I'm writing this before typing up the chapter, so I have no idea how much of this is going to be answered later.) Italics are supposed to be flashbacks, but it keeps messing up. As for the plot, I'm as far as Colette, yes, but after that…well, we'll have to see.
–gaspforair- That's hopefully all the questions answered. If you have anymore, let me know! On with le story!
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Fresh air was something you didn't often get in Meltokio, with all the pollution. Actually in the slums, there was no such thing. Between the sewage systems that weren't quite as nice as the rest of the city's, and the constant reek of alcohol and drugs, the air could never be considered clear. He must have been used to it now, as passing through the gates had started a ragged breathing pattern in him. Gagging as they left the walled area into the suburbs, he struck a match, lighting one of his last cigarettes and sticking it in his mouth. It wasn't nearly as bad as the boy's reaction though.
Raised in the dingiest part of his hometown, he hadn't been out of the city as often as Zelos had. His coughing fit scared anyone around who hadn't rushed away from the slum smell. Now he smelt the tobacco, his shoulders relaxed and he began chattering endlessly about how he thought the outside would be like.
"There're still so many houses outside the walls. I only left once and never got this far before going back in. People here aren't friendly to slummies like me. Nobody else is either, but I need to go near them for food. The houses are farther apart now though. I can barely see that one out there. When can we stop to practice, and where are we going anyway? Mister Zee?" The boy's brown eyes lit up with excitement at the idea. Only once had he picked up a sword, staggering under the weight. That would change after he was trained though.
The ex-Chosen smothered a groan at the nickname. Since the boy began trailing him, he'd set ground rules with him. Leaving him alone when he went around at night was one of the easier ones. His name had been more complicated. With some sort of awe, the boy had been calling him Master until he was ready to throttle him, but he couldn't exactly ask him to use his real name. Instead, he'd told him his own story and requested he didn't use that name, or Master. Well, the Master bit had been more of an order, but it still hadn't worked too well.
"So…Master Zelos…""Not that at all."
"What can I call you then? If I cant use your name or anything anymore."
"You're smart, you'll think of something else."
"Zell? No, that's a girl name…nothing begins with Zed."
"You know some places say it Zee?"
"They call Zeds zees?""Yeah."
"I'll call you that then! No-one will ever guess it's you!"
"H-hey, wait…"
It had stuck, no matter what he tried to say against it. A ridiculous name, but maybe he was ridiculous now. The long walk past the last few farmhouses so they could finally set up camp before nightfall didn't require concentration, and he let his mind wander off again, to the first time he had used that word himself.
Hilda's birthday, her eighth, so he would have been fourteen then. After the party, the cake and the ever annoying socializing at the end, he'd rushed off to the research academy, leaving before anyone had a chance to stop him. Once his conversation with the princess was over, it became boring with the proud and boring court members, and he'd decided to go to the one person he knew who would laugh with him about it, find the extravagant dress and globs of makeup as foolish as he did.
Sheena hadn't laughed with him though, merely sat and listened quietly until he finished speaking. Then, when he'd prodded her to answer and tell him her thoughts, she burst into tears. It had been so unlike her that for five minutes, Zelos had sat there staring at her, before bluntly asking an obvious question. "You're crying. Why?"
Sobbing, she'd slapped him. Even before he'd gone all perverted to her, she constantly hit him for being 'such a noble'. That was what happened when you loved a girl with a mind of her own though. Leaving him stunned she'd run off, up the stairs and through the main door. As if that would stop him finding out. Besides, there was only one place Sheena went when she was upset. Running up the stairs to the nobles area was quite the workout, especially with people turning to stare or stopping in his way. Even getting into the gardens was difficult.
Finding Sheena herself was easier than it should have been. She was small for eleven years old, but predictable too. Nestled beside a rose bush in one of the back corners, she was sniffling away her tears and rubbing her eyes. Like any other ninja he'd met, she sensed his presence and looked up. Watching her tear stained eyes; the redhead wondered if he really wanted to have her crying again, or if he could leave quickly. The second option blocked itself off as she mumbled his name. "Yeah?"
Her lips started to quiver again, and he got ready to stop her, until she asked in a small voice, "D-do you think I'll ever be as pretty as Princess Hilda?" As if this was the most pressing question in the world, more important than her studying to become a summoner, or that artificial summon spirit idea she was so wrapped up in. Being as pretty as the princess was just so much more important to her. He scrunched up his nose. Girls. Every time you thought they weren't all vain and caught in their looks, they asked you something like this.
It was an easy question to answer though. Looking at Sheena, with her dark, messy hair and wild eyes, he knew what to answer, and could do it honestly. "What are ya talking about? You're already prettier than her. Besides, comparing yourself to her is ridiculous. Everyone has to love her. With you it's a choice."
Now, honest simple thoughts kept him from going mental, worrying about what would happen next. Things like food and shelter were easier to worry about than what had happened to Sheena, or how to break into the royal chambers. Like how stopping here on the road would be a perfect place to teach the boy basic skills, he decided, turning onto the grassy field and dropping his bag onto the ground. The sun was setting, so he wasn't concerned that any travelers would find them odd. Pulling out his old blade, he spun around to look at the boy who just stood there waiting for an order.
"Get it out." Zelos commanded, moving through his own practice drill while his student scrambled for the wooden sword in his pack. Slash, jump back, thrust forward and slash from the side. A killing move that he used on weaker opponents, ones that required little effort. Turning back to the boy, he sighed. Two weeks ago, he'd carved a simple practice sword out of a broken rail on the apartment he'd been sleeping on and told the boy to use it until he felt comfortable.
There hadn't seemed to be a problem then, beyond that the weapons the kid was used to were his fists. Now, when being able to fight was more important, flaws were showing up everywhere. "Alright, let's see," Zelos commanded, walking around his confused new 'partner'. "You want to be an apprentice swordsman instead of a thief, right?" The boy nodded eagerly. "Then move like one! Stand up straight, and hold that up!" His rough words cut the boy's confidence down, though he moved to obey anyway. "That's better. Now, hold it like this." he demonstrated, switching his fingers into a fighting grip. "No, not like that! It's a sword, not a hammer! Move your fingers up a bit."
Watching him fumble to get it right, Zelos decided that he wasn't that bad. Once the form was right, techniques could be taught that would help him fight. Being outside where there was always some monster or other to battle would gain him life experience. Deciding that the position the sword was in now was at least closer to correct than before, he walked back to the boy's side and tapped his shoulder. "Now let's try a vertical slash," he instructed, demonstrating again. Top to bottom, a perfect ninety degree angle, just as he'd been taught.
As the boy copied him, he watched the wooden blade, the form and the person behind it. He'd been taught to analyze his enemies like this, but, as he'd learnt in his travels, knowing your ally never hurt either. The movements weren't focused and textbook, like his own, but a whole troupe of impersonal teachers changed any truly spirited combat into math formulas. Only when someone was untrained like this, free to improvise, was their full strength available. To reach potential though, practice was needed and experience, training even so there was a perfect balance…
The swish of the cuts had ended, and he opened his eyes, from where they'd been half closed and moved once again to his things. "Keep practicing." A short order that the boy followed quickly, moving the sword up and down again and again, waiting for Zelos to turn before running and slashing at the air. Searching for food and keeping a partial watch out of one eye, the ex-Chosen shook his head. No obedience for rules, was one of the factors that he considered a mark of a true swordsman. He had no uncertainty that the boy would be wielding a real sword by the end of the month.
By then, they would be crossing the stretch of water between southern Meltokio and Asgard, the pedestrian border to Sylvarant. The bridge had been built shortly after the worlds merged together, and even though he'd never crossed it, common fact was that you needed no money or identification to pass through. Open arms had been extended to the other side, a place with bountiful resources and less half elves.
Even then, the prejudice against other races was ending much faster in Sylvarant, with enough advocates coming to Tethe'alla, only to get tossed back out. His own country wasn't accepting of anything, especially now. Sighing at the dismal thought, he set out to create a meal out of half a loaf of bread and two apples. Meat would have been nice, but hunting some poor animal out here brought old skills into practice again.
When it came to his old practices, everything was still a little shabby, and trying to track something down and then make a fire to cook it would take longer than the impeding darkness allowed. Tomorrow, they'd be starting to pass the Fooji mountains and the boy could help him fight a monster from there for meat. Manticores were far too large to tackle now, but there were rabbits and wolves in the plains as well, and maybe a few fruit trees.
Freedom meant working to survive, fighting and a lot of walking. Five years ago, he complained about this sort of thing, waking up late and spending hours on his hair. Now, it was a necessary sacrifice to make for getting Sheena back. And in a strange way, it was making him feel closer to the past than before. There was no feeling in his voice as he called the boy over to eat, he was so lost in the thoughts of his seven old companions.
I'll see you all soon, he vowed in the light of the setting sun. One way or another, I will see you again.
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There! Please review, hopefully with some suggestions for the boy's name, because I can't keep writing 'the boy' over and over, it's driving me mad! The next chapter will be out next week, no matter how much work it takes!
Byee for now! Tisa