When Gourry had gone to bed he'd felt heedless with a recklessness that he seldom succumbed to. He'd agreed to have dinner with the Lahdas again after he finished at the library and had agreed to explore Flagoon with Sylphiel later in the week and share a picnic together. He'd even said that he had plans to stay in Sairaag indefinitely for the moment. He knew he was courting hope but he couldn't help it. It had been such a long time since someone had cared about him beyond his ability to be a strong warrior. That someone had been attracted to his noble ways and not disdainful towards them.
When his head hit the pillow it was filled with dreams about how to make it work. The possibility of protecting the Sword of Light from humanity while remaining a part of it was, for the first time in his life, tantalizing. He'd never know if he never tried after all.
But as he slept he'd had the dream again. The one where he was sitting on the porch of a white cabin with a woman as they watched the sunset together, their hands comfortably entwined. The peace and contentment of the dream a contrast to the confusion he felt when he woke. Confusion that the woman in the dream was not Sylphiel.
It's just a stupid dream. Gourry thought to himself as he threw off the bedcovers and wondered why he was reading so much into it. It doesn't mean anything.
Still, as he dressed he looked at the Sword of Light and felt the weight of a familiar chain, reminding him of the responsibility that he carried. The responsibility that few who wielded it honored. So many wanted the power that came with it but few were prepared for the responsibility. Grandmother had said that he was different in that aspect.
He finished dressing and picked up the sword and then a new thought hit him like a blast of cold air. That the Sword of Light was enough to destroy a nice family like the Lahdas.
Gourry felt his stomach twist inside. Part of him wanted to find a way to make it work. But the other knew far too well how badly the Sword of Light could destroy a family. Granted, it wasn't as if his family was ever a happy one. Or if it had ever been it was before he entered the picture. But maybe there was a time, and perhaps information about it was at the library. And if he could learn about it, perhaps he could recreate it and learn from his ancestors' mistakes to make it more sustainable.
Or maybe a nice family can help share in the responsibility, Gourry thought, and then he instantly admonished himself for it. The Sword of Light was his burden and his alone. If he was going to become serious with Sylphiel and her family (and Gourry was very aware that to become serious with a woman like Sylphiel meant becoming part of her family) then he was going to have to be careful. But he wasn't ready to abandon hope yet.
By now Gourry knew what a dangerous game it was. But he couldn't help himself. Even though he knew how dangerous hope could be, how vicious it was when it turned into despair and cut you in half. The potential for hope to turn into despair forced him to be cautious with the emotion. He'd learned young to abandon it with his family. And so long as he had the Sword of Light he felt as though he would have to abandon the hope of ever having a family that he could be proud of.
But the depression it had sunk him into also taught him that it was hard to live a life without hope. If he was honest with himself living without hope was brutal. It was slowly killing him inside. So much that despite knowing better he was now bargaining, hoping to find some way to make it work.
Just because no one had yet found a way to balance wielding the Sword of Light with having a happy family didn't mean there wasn't one. And perhaps, after he'd talked to the librarian, he would have learned enough about the mistakes of the past and how to avoid them. Or perhaps even about a time where a Gabriev was successful with it and how to recreate it, make it more lasting.
"You were late getting in from the Lahdas last night." Dottie said with a wink as she filled up his coffee when he came down for breakfast.
Gourry smiled and did his best to hide his conflicted feelings, "They're a nice family."
"Are you planning on seeing them again?" Dottie asked as Gourry felt an alarm bell go off as he noticed an ominous presence approach the inn. The door opened and a group of men walked in, and Dottie straightened and her warm presence vanished as she recognized them. "Can I help you?"
"We hear that a distant relative of ours has returned." A man with sandy colored hair explained as Gourry had a sense that he was about to meet some of his family as the group of ten men looked him over.
"Have you?" Dottie said.
"Lex Gabriev." The man said as he held out his hand to Gourry while ignoring Dottie.
Gourry met Lex's eyes as he shook it and was relaxed even as he noted that the other men in the party were surrounding him. Their tactics were amateurish, based on numbers and brute strength more than skill. Gourry knew he could easily defend himself against them even if he did not particularly relish the thought of facing family down once more. "Gourry." He said.
Lex raised his eyebrows as he smiled sardonically, "Descendant of Lucia?"
"My grandmother was called Lucia." Gourry said as Lex sat down uninvited.
"So where did she end up?"
"Far to the east." Gourry said.
"For years we wanted to find some sign of her. Family watches out for each other." Lex said with a sneer the belied the kindness of his words.
Sometimes I think I must have been adopted. Gourry thought. "Do you know why she left?"
"She never told you?" Lex asked.
"I never even knew she was from Sairaag." Gourry said.
"She was jealous." Lex said, "Her brother, my father, had the Sword of Light. Those were Sairaag's glory days, back when my father was in charge. But Lucia was jealous and she stole the sword and ran away with it. Things just haven't been the same since then."
Gourry could easily fill in what Lex wasn't saying. While his father had never tried to consolidate power with the Sword of Light, nor had Grandmother ever let him, Gunther had. Brutally. And while Gunther had thought of himself as a wise and benevolent ruler who hurt people for their own good, Gourry had seen him for the despot that he was.
And while Gourry did not know Lucia's side of the story, he knew her well enough to know that if she had stolen the sword, she'd done it for the same reason that he had. To stop the abuse of its power.
And Gourry knew one more thing, that Lex and Gunther were cut from the same cloth. And that there would be no justifying the moral necessity of certain actions with him. "That sounds like it was quite the loss."
"Father was run out of power without it. Damn near killed him." Lex said with fire in his eyes, "He spent his remaining days wondering where the sword was."
"It's safe." Gourry said.
"Well that's good to know." Lex said with a smile, "Because I'd also like it back."
"I'm afraid I can't give it to you." Gourry said simply as he noticed that the men surrounding him were moving in closer and while he was sure he could easily disarm the group, he also did not want to destroy Dottie's inn. "Why don't we step outside? The first person who disarms me can see the sword I carry. But if I disarm you then I will take my leave and go. Deal?"
Lex grinned salaciously, "Deal."
Dottie's eyes were wide as they all stood up and went outside as Gourry started to battle the guilt. That he wasn't smart enough to find a way to defuse these situations without violence. While the physicality and technique of swordplay had come easily to him, using it to defend himself when it meant hurting someone else had damn near broken him.
Memories rose through him as he dropped into a fighting stance as Lex charged at him. As Gourry effortlessly parried his blow he remembered facing down Gunther. Gunther, who had more talent than Lex but also had enough pride to fight by the rules. Lex did not.
So Gourry was not surprised when all of the men in the group charged at him at once. As he cut through the sword of the first attacker the energy changed a little, as if they realized that they had picked a fight with the wrong man. And as he kicked the man on his left on the solar plexus their resolve seemed to waver.
The fact that it was too easy caused the guilt to swell.
When Gourry bested Gunther he'd felt triumphant. Gunther's relentless bullying had left him so cowed that when he finally punched back an exhilaration like no other flowed through him. Gunther hadn't gone down without a fight, and a desperate one at that as he felt his hold on his younger brother slip. But Gourry had won in the end, and the rush of power that flowed through him was exhilarating.
And then his father had clapped and hugged him with an enthusiasm he had never showed him before. For so long he'd wanted his father to be proud of him and to show some favor to him, but when it happened Gourry felt a bad taste in his mouth. A sense that he should be better than that. His victory felt hollow. He'd won on the narrow field that father and Gunther played on, where dominance and aggression were all that mattered while utterly failing to save them from the pitfalls of such a mindset. A true victory would have been realizing that there was no need to fight. Instead he had had to sink to their level and play their games to protect himself.
In the years since he'd left the Elmekian Empire he'd found no way to reach such men. So he blocked. He parried. He sliced through swords and arms. Even though he was greatly outnumbered he whittled them down. And at the back of his mind he couldn't not quite extinguish the thought that there had to have been a way to protect himself without violence.
"Violence is the only thing that some men understand." Janawes would tell him.
"But…" Gourry would protest.
"If you try to reason with someone like Gunther you will lose." His mentor said, "How many more black eyes do you need to nurse before you realize this? Yes, you should avoid violence when you can. But with Gunther, you can't."
This is the only way, Gourry assured himself as he disarmed Gabriev after Gabriev. Or is that just how you justify this to yourself, Gourry?
Blood splattered unto his face. The blood of another Gabriev. Gourry couldn't help but sneer, but not for the reason that Lex likely assumed as he was the last one left standing. As Gourry resumed his stance with the bodies of Gabrievs nursing their injuries around him, Lex lowered his sword and raised his hands in surrender. For a moment there was a spark of rage in his eyes and then Lex said heavily as though he was trying to swallow something distasteful, "You win. Looks like you're the boss now."
"I have no desire for that." Gourry said as he sheathed his sword as his stomach turned distastefully. He had no doubt whatsoever that even if he did try to mold the Gabriev wing in Sairaag to his standards that the roots were already so rotten that he was likely to have to kill more of his blood than to tame it. Not to mention live with the risk of having his throat cut in the night. Like Gunther had. "I'm on my way out actually."
Dottie's mouth dropped as Lex said, "B-but, you don't understand. With the sword and your skills, this city will be yours for the taking."
"I have no need for a city." Gourry said as he walked back into the inn and tried to keep his shoulders square under the crushing weight of disappointment that descended upon him. Only Dottie followed him.
"What do you mean you're leaving?" Dottie asked as he continued to walk to his room once they were inside, "You have them cowed! You showed them who is boss! Their power has been greatly reduced since Lucia left, but they still threaten and bully whoever they can. You can clean them up."
"I don't want to be boss. Not like this." Gourry said as he tried to keep himself from shaking.
"I don't understand at all." Dottie said.
"My brother…" Gourry managed to choke as he stood before the door to his room. And then he stopped, "I don't want to be like him."
"Then don't!"
How could he explain? How could he even begin to explain? He couldn't. He opened the door and swiftly entered his room and shut it in Dottie's face and locked it. He would fret about his rudeness later. At least now no one would see the tears on his face as he took a moment to surrender to the cutting blade of despair.
Of course there was no way future with Sylphiel. There was none in Sairaag. There was no way someone could protect humanity from the Sword of Light and settle down and enjoy a happy family. He was foolish to even contemplate it.
He wasn't sure how long the waves of despair slammed against him. Eventually a numbness set in as he wiped the blood from his face, threw the handkerchief on the bed to be forgotten and he started to pack his bags. There was no use going to the library now. He had to get as far away as he could from Sairaag as fast as he could. He gathered his stuff, memories of when he packed his bags in Elmkeia washing through him.
Memories of waking up one morning to his mother's hysterical sobs. Of gingerly walking up to her and asking why she was crying and of her turning and beating her fists against his chest as she told him that Gunther was dead. His throat slit in the night. The Sword of Light gone.
"It should have been you!" his mother had screeched as she pummeled him as he took her blows. Her words wounded him more deeply than her fists ever could, "It should have been you who was killed! Why wasn't it you? Why did it have to be him?"
Later he'd gone for a walk far from the village as he tried to make sense of it all. And that was when he'd found the Sword of Light, discarded and forgotten in the barren wasteland. Whoever had killed Gunther hadn't done it for the sword, but then there were plenty of other reasons people would want Gunther dead. For that reason Gourry was sure that whoever had done it was unskilled and out for revenge but knew the Sword of Light would incriminate them and that they wouldn't be able to use it to defend themselves. So they had left it forgotten in the dunes, likely hopeful that it would be forgotten.
But Gourry could not forget it. Nor could he leave it there, though there were times that he wished he had. That'd he'd never taken that walk, that he'd never found the blasted thing.
Someone knocked on the door, bringing him back to the present. He dried his eyes but didn't say anything as he continued to pack. After a moment a voice said, "Master Gourry?"
It was Sylphiel. Gourry sighed and steeled himself. He walked over and opened the door but when he tried to speak the words escaped him. She spoke first, "Dottie told me what happened."
"Then you know why I have to leave." He said as he turned back and started to close his bags.
"Master Gourry, I am sorry that this happened and apologize on behalf of my city. Please don't let them chase you away. Unfortunately Sairaag is not any safer from bad people than any other place."
"It's not that simple." Gourry said as he looked at her and wished that he hadn't. At least when he left home there was no one he was leaving behind who would miss him. No one begging him to stay. But now…
He quickly looked away as he hoisted his pack on his shoulder and moved towards the door. "I don't understand." She said.
She came from a good family. Of course she wouldn't understand. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and said, "So long as I have this I have to stay on the move. Bloodshed happens if I don't. I was foolish to forget." He closed his eyes, "You made me want to forget."
"Master Gourry…" she said as she reached for him.
"Goodbye." He said as he tore himself away.
AN: Glad to be moving onto the bit where he runs into Lina's father, and then Lina. Thank you wonderful Gourrina fans for bearing with the set up!
Anyway, I took a few weeks off work to recover from my mother's death. And got a lot of writing done, which helped me a lot emotionally. I sort of feel like I need another week, but hopefully it'll be enough. Now that it's back to the weekly grind, though…let's just say don't expect four fics in roughly a week, lol.