eIt stings, a headache splitting up my head in two yet again. Huh, where am I? A harsh wooden plank stabs my butt, my back screaming at the soreness as I get into a sitting position, a small bit of saliva coming out from my mouth.
Figures brighter than the darkness stand unmoving at the bottom of the ground, but still the darkness looms over. From the right corner of my eyes, a lighter tone of shadows contrasts the pitch blackness of the room.
I raise my left arm and the sleeve falls down, revealing a dim white marred by dark patches throughout it. With my other hand, I touch it. A rough texture graces the tips of my fingers and when I pinch, a burning pain comes. How much blood have I lost?
Where am I? I put my hand on the wall, a piercing stone scratching the palm of my hand. I rest my back against the cold stone and shudder as my spine lies there. The gelid sensation spreads throughout my back and I jump up, my muscle burning sore as I trip on my leg, planting my face right towards the ground.
A dull pain takes hold of my nose. Damn it. Damn it all!
I lift myself, but my arms are ablaze as if my bones are ready to pop out. A little bit of saliva comes out of my mouth. My legs are hard like stone… What is left and right?
I take one step but stumble and fall against the rusted bar, the grittiness scratching my hands. I put my face in between the bars, a gelid sensation stinging my chin as my eyes itch. A lonely torch illuminates a few centimeters, light which exists but never reaches in here. What lies beyond the rocky walls? Another cell? How did I get here? Where the hell am I? Am I dead or alive?
I pull my head away from the bars, but it doesn't move. I put my hand against the bar, scraping my head and burning my skin. This was a stupid thing to do, you idiot! The fresh air pricks in my arms. Did I gash myself? Is there any blood?
An oily substance coats my hand? Is this blood or something else? My back itches, no doubt the result of being stuck like this. Please don't develop it into something else…
The sensation subsides. At least a part of this hell isn't there anymore… Hold up. Wasn't there something else on back? Oh no… Where is it? Where is it!? It must be somewhere in this forsaken place! Where is my backpack!?
I walk away from the bars and look around.
Darkness envelops the place. At the end of the room, three figures lay down on the harsh stone as well. No, they can't have my stuff. Within the corner of my eyes, a plank is standing against the wall, only held in place by chains. I woke up from there, so it must be it!?
I turn and walk towards it. It must be somewhere in it, it must be! I survey the rough wood, sharp splinters entering the palm of my hand. The cold of the metal assaults my senses. But the only thing left is the same rough texture!? Where is it!? Where is the damn thing!? Perhaps…
I lower to the ground and put my head against the ground, facing down towards the pitch dark underneath the plank. I stretch my arm and slip it beneath. It must be in there, it must be in there. Otherwise, what is left!?
I wave my arm left and right, touching the wall and reaching further underneath the plank. It isn't there, only rocks and the void. I crawl towards the figure, it could be there! Please be there.
Nothing. Nothing, absolutely nothing. It can't be true, right? It can't be, right? How could I not have it? This is false, this is only a dream and nothing else. Bad jokes made by my own brain to mock my failures.
It must be somewhere, anywhere in this cursed place! I rise up from the ground and slam my hands against the plank. I can't have lost it right? I can't! Scraping my hand, I search for foreign synthetic material. Only coarse wood and rusted metal greet me. This can't be true, right?
I grit my teeth, gums pressing against bone. Where the hell is my backpack? Where is my fucking stuff!? I can't lose it. No, I can't lose it! It must be somewhere, anywhere!
I fall to the ground, what if I wasn't thorough enough? I bang my hand to the ground, rasping the cold place. Nothing… nothing… there is nothing!
Are they alongside the figures!? I teeter towards them, rasping my breath. If it isn't anywhere then it must be with them! The figures lay with each other like rocks. Nothing above them… nothing… nothing. They don't have the damned thing. They don't have the damn thing! They don't fucking have it! Of course, you bastard idiot!
Droga! Droga! Droga! Eu perdi a porra da mochila! Onde que essa droga está!?
I strike the wall again and again. The sharp ache pricks my fingers and their bone like a knife piercing skin. This isn't enough, it's never enough. I graze the skin with the nails of my other hand, little sharp daggers puncturing my skin, coming close to my hair but continuing scratching.
I gasp for breath as I put my hand in my hair and pull it. Bubbles pop from inside my head, split apart by my headache. My nose feels way too light and my mouth gelid.
Droga Droga Droga! Where is it? Where is it?! Damn it, damn it! Damn this fucking place and this idiot!
I want to scream. I want to scream, but where do I scream!? Where can I scream!? There must be a way.
I remove my hand from my hair and put it in my mouth. My jaw contorts wide open, my cheeks feeling torn apart by the stretch. A sound emerges from the top of my throat. An atonal screech passes right through the blockade. A cacophony storms out of my mouth as my vocal cords dry up. The vibrations throb and burn. My veins are boiling, ready to explode.
The scream stops as I cough away, burning the desert which my throat has become. A liquid emerges at the top, bitter, lubricating my vocal cords. I spit it out, drying them out once again, only getting them refreshed by the air irritating the oh-so-fragile string of flesh.
I wobble, trembling like a convulsing body. My arms and neck twist as saliva comes out of my mouth. What is left and right? My legs give up as I fall down to the plank and my back hits the wall again.
Frozen stone stabs my back, a cushion fit for the likes of me, left to rot away inside this pitch-black darkness. Once again, migraines penetrate my head, my stomach gets irritated by dizziness like an insect crawling inside my esophagus, announcing the brain to spill out bile.
The rotation in my head stops, and I fall down on my back against the wall. Resting away in the unmoving spikes .
C'mon stop joking around, bastard. It isn't like your body is paralyzed. Just move anything and you will move, you are only being lazy! Move! You are an arm, you are a piece of me. Why don't you move, why don't you stop lying to yourself and move, you goddamn arm?! Can't you do something as simple as that? Have you lost all your nerves?
Maybe other parts are working. I try to lift my leg, but it doesn't move one centimeter. I can't have lost control of my body all of a sudden? Why isn't my torso moving? It doesn't move. Nothing is moving, except my crisscrossing eyes.
What is left? What is left? What is left. Just exist, exist and exist. Patterns upon patterns. What is left? What is left? Time is an afterthought: minutes, seconds and hours…
What is left? A massive soup of seconds that turns into hours and hours which last seconds. Static moments of sameness. The next second to repeat like the last minutes.
And nothing moves on. Stuck and sleazy, isn't that whatever is left of me? Loops upon loops feed each other. Nothing moves, only figures emerging from the slumber staring down at me. Their eyes feasting upon mine, coming close to me. Why can't they stop with their agonizing gazes, like needles going from their eyeballs to my eye sockets
Their suffocating stares, why do they keep doing that? But what are these mere hours compared to anything in this world bleeding out from this war? I'm only an ant among them, one ready to be gobbled up by the falcons above. The prey is ready to be eaten alive.
Is there any remaining thing left out of that torch? Was there ever a torch in the first place or is it pure imagination on my part? Sizzle in and sizzle out such that it goes for the torch, always stuck in the same place that ever was. If that exists in this stasis I belong to.
Black dots crawl away from the walls, darker than anything else. The little dots form into a line sliding away from the nooks and cranes of this stone wall, infesting the place in their own way. What beings are these…?
So familiar and so ravenous. Reminds me of those black dots that moved against the white floor of the kitchen-They are ants. Of course, even here in the land of world-ending dragons, their little corpses still exist, moving in this darkness to check if there is food. Funny how ants appear everywhere in the world. No matter what happens, ants will pop up left and right. Such is the cycle of life, ants moving around, scavenging food themselves, stuck in their static life cycle predetermined from birth.
I blink and regain some control over my body. The dots disappear from the walls, going back to their little nest.
The ants stand on the ground, their black bodies standing proud against the grey stone. What a powerful camouflage. The torch must sizzle out anytime from now if that thing exists. Sounds come out from the confines, phonemes hitting the walls and returning back. Is there anyone outside these walls?
There are no steps, only the static world of this cell. Is there any difference in this slide show? One second later and this moment has become the past, but the world is sometimes like a picture. The little moments become stuck in our heads, but they escape from our grasp.
But this will soon be forgotten, either way, time always ends but it always returns. I blink my eyes once again. The figures got away with their talking and deafening silence returns. Their bodies splayed around the cell.
A tickling passes through my arm, an itch burning alongside it. I turn my eyes to it, the dots walk against the tainted white cloth, following the trail of brown tones coming to the upper reach of my arm. I try to flail my arm around but it doesn't move as I remain in the same position
Ants, don't they go where food is? Oh, of course, I'm their food. My arm will serve as nourishment for them, won't it? Gobbled up to the bone as it stopped fucking moving ages ago. They are still crawling in my wounds, they are still crawling in my wounds. Um, dois, três! Formigas, formigas! Passarei a ser a plantação e serei comido! Um, dois, três! Creepy crawlies crawl towards the wound like fire follows gasoline!
Please let me out! Please let me out! I don't want to be eaten! Get away from my body, you bastards! Please someone or anyone get me away from these ants!
A bright dot emerges from outside the bars, walking towards the cell. Is this a guard or have I truly become insane? Little by little, the dot increases in size, revealing figures. What are they? Hallucinations or something real?
They light torches around the cell. Light enters for the first time in a while and my eyes burn from the sudden invasion of the orange tone. What are those people? I turn my eyes to them and…
Oh no!
A blue-haired man alongside a blonde woman, I'm so screwed. I'm so royally screwed. The woman carries the torches as she gazes straight into my eyes. Her brow furrows into a scowl. My eyes turn away from them, shame invading me once again.
I hear teeth clattering until she shouts. The tone of her voice is like a sharp and serrated knife, cutting my innards as my skin freezes under her aggressive speech until it dulls.
The twist in her voice twists my intestine. A cry comes out from her, laced with venom. The death of the duke replays in my head. His body falling down to the throne as that same lament came.
Another voice comes out with a low tone, a gelid one. I turn my eyes in its direction. The blue-haired man's teeth gnash against each other, with his hand clenching. He notices my stares and gruffs at me.
He puts and clutches one of his hands around the bars, before looking away from me and towards the blonde, speaking to her in an imperative tone.. The woman nods to him and they both get away from me, leaving me once again in the loneliness of this cell.
Seconds pass in the static moment. A second advances but time doesn't advance. Just the same old image, but is it better for things to move on? The steps crack against the ground, a resounding rhythm as the couple returns to the cell.
Keys clang as the door cracks open, the creek of metal breaking the moment as sweat comes down to my brow. The blue-haired man enters and slowly walks to me, all while staring at my face with a furrowed brow, his body blocking the light and covering me in his shadow.
I mostly try to avoid the man's gaze, but when I risk a quick glance at him I find him baring his teeth like a wolf. His hands slowly reach my shoulders and start pressing them, trembling his hands. I gulp as my belly freezes at his touch.
He screams at me, saliva hitting a part of my face. He presses further on my shoulder
What is he saying? Doesn't he know that I don't speak Ylissean? I stay still as the man remains with his hands clinging unto me. Seconds pass silently. Was that a question or something else?
The blue- haired man spits out something. What the hell is he trying to say?
He presses my shoulder further, his nails digging up to my flesh. I grit my teeth as I pant. My hands move, reaching his arms and clutching his hand in an attempt to pull away from his grip.
The blue-haired man doubles down, pushing me against the stone wall. The sharp stone starts to graze my back, feeling like it's puncturing my skin. My bones rub against each other at an agonizing pace.
The bastard screams at me, his saliva hitting my face while he continues this torturous motion.
Stop bastard, stop doing that!
"Para, cacete! Nem sei o que cê tá falando!" I scream at him. He doesn't immediately stop, but after giving me another glare, he gruffs at me and gets his hands away from me.
Then he slams me against the wall and I hit my head. He whispers back something, a few motionless seconds passing. What the hell is he planning to do?
He's… he's putting his hands around my neck.
I tremble as memories of that fateful night come to me. No, not again! Why? Get away from me, you bastard!
I kick his abdomen, but the monster remains still. I increase the pace and put my hand on his face, trying to push him. He doesn't budge as his fingers sink into my skin. The voice screeches, scratching the air around me, piercing my ears.
Pare! Pare! Pare!
The creatures twist his hands around as I gurgle, droplets coming out of my mouth. A feminine voice emerges from nowhere and whispers into my ears.
Se eu pudesse, eu te matava.
I pant as if there is no tomorrow, fraying my voice.
Para! Para! Para
Please get away from me! Get your hands off of me! Get away!
I try to push him away, but his muscles - a massive wall of concrete - don't budge. I need to get out!
Se eu pudesse, eu te matava. Se eu pudesse, eu te matava.
Get out of my mind! Get away!
I will die! I will die!
I twitch, thrashing around. My arms contort. My eyes twist around the world, straining.
I'm going to die. What can I do!? What can I do!?
The memories flow right in front of my eyes. Then it comes. I lift my right arm while clutching my hand. Where are the thing's eyes!? Two in the dark. There they are!
I fly my fingers towards it! Please hit! Its hands get away from my neck and slap my hand. What!?
It grabs my clothes and yanks me away from the plank. He launches me against the ground. My cheeks scrape against the stone, the clothes tear apart as the rough stone strikes against my back, my head rings. I turn my head and see its form watching down on me before it crouches down.
Its knee sits down on my abdomen, smashing my intestine. Saliva crawls up from my throat.
Filho da puta!
I growl my teeth at him, putting my arms against his knee. Get away from me!
Then a fist flies to my face.
Sharp pain erupts as my head trembles left and right dizzily.
That bastard!
It punches once again. My nose burns as the back of my head pricks against the ground.
Uh.. uh.. uh…
Filho da puta. Filho da puta.
It stops for a second and I turn my eyes to the source of the light in the room. The woman is gazing at the scene as it unfolds. That woman with those furrowed eyes, standing frozen as the situation happens in front of her like a statue.
Another scratchy punch comes against my mouth, cracking against my bones, bruising my skin and cutting the inside of my mouth. My teeth shake inside my mouth as a dark liquid comes out and mixes with the saliva within fits of cough.
Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! I'm going to die!
It stops, staring down at me. Another figure, behind the monster, puts its hands on the thing's shoulders as it pulls away from me. It turns its head to gaze at the figure, gruffing at them.
They spat back with a masculine voice. The thing stopping it pummeling as he gazes away from me and towards them, his fist dripping blood. A break, finally a break away from this thing!
I pant as my mouth spits out blood. I need to get away from its grasp! I crawl away while the thing complains back to the grey-haired figure, pushing my arms and legs until I reach the room's walls.
The thing slaps away the hands of the gray figure as it goes back to me. Not again! Not again! Not again! Get out of my sight! Get out of my life! Stop! Stop!
"Para, seu filho da puta! Cacete, caralho! Porra." I wail and scream, some blood hits him and my throat sores. Tears come out of my eyes as I grab myself and rock back and forth in place.
I'm so tired of this world, can't I be left at peace for one second!? Can't I just not have to deal with this freaking war for one second!? But then again, it's your fault as you were the one who did in the first place. You killed Cordelia, they are grieving. Is it really that unfair to happen?
I collapse into my mind. I had the fault anyway, I'm always the wrong one. You just need to accept it.
The gray-haired figure sighs, limping his way towards the blue-haired monster and putting his arm in front of it, blocking it.
The thing rebuffs the man once again, placing his finger against him, screaming down with its all reverberating voice. But the gray-haired man doesn't bulge and remains between me and the thing.
The man speaks to the beast and a sharp silence returns to the room as they stare at each other. The thing begins to shrug its head left and right but it stops, forming a frown on its face as it steals a glance at me before going back to gazing down at the figure in front of me.
Before silent whispering to itself, It points toward me. The gray-haired figure stares back at me and trails down his eyes before turning back to the thing. He replies back to the beast, slacking his shoulders and sighing
The blue-haired monster gruffs, almost twitching its neck like a lion coming down to eat its prey, but it just gives me one last glacial glare and stares back at the man, giving one last talk and turning his back away from him.
It gets out from the cell, steps resounding all the way. The beast passes in front of the woman and gets outs of my sight. The woman breaks from her daze and walks away sighing.
The grayhead sighs as he turns around, gazing down at me. Is he angry? What does he want from me? I turn my head away from him. The ants are crawling down to my foot as they follow the drips of blood.
I don't move at all as he says something. I stay there on the ground between the blood-sucking ants as I look back at him. He facepalms and sighs to himself.
"Il parle plegian. Jusqu' a moment,"
Wait, does he speak french? I blink at him as he limps away from me and leaves me alone once again in the cell. I gaze around and the figures start to look around me. Will they approach or kill me? I don't know anymore.
Within a few seconds, the limping grey-haired man comes alongside another freakishly tall person, their armor clanking against the ground. They stop in front of me. Another round of beating, I suppose. Just kill me already.
They lift me by the arm, pulling and ripping my bandages alongside it. My spine is sore as my back is burned by the oxygen in the air. My legs falter like noodles, hitting down the ground and my body soon follows it.
The armored person stops me from hitting the ground. My head shakes around the place as I'm dragged. My legs scrape against the stones on the ground. The thing's grip smashes my muscle, a burning sensation emerging from the bandages.
Where will they lead me? Do they have any purpose for the likes of me? I'm going to be a chew toy for the Shepherds? The only thing certain is the torch outside sizzling up and the gazes of the figures as I cross to the other side of the cell.
Aside from scraping against stone, there is nothing stopping me from my path toward death. The moment I killed Cordelia, my destiny was already cast into the stone and it hangs around my neck like knotted gallows.
That is my sin and I have to bear it. Her corpse dropping on the ground in front of me replays as the steps of my executioners crack against the stone ground.
I have killed a Shepherd. A Shepherd, one of the heroes of the stories, and I slew her. It makes me wanna laugh at this absurdity. Here is your prize, Gabriel. You murdered a good person and that is your prize: a well-deserved punishment.
I sigh at my thoughts as the sickening thud replays once again in my ears. Yep, as I always reminded myself, I really screwed up this one.
And here we go again, a mutilated pegasus sharing the same fate as the sacrificed Cordelia. Her body drops, blood drips down and exhaustion takes in. Repeat the same scene ad nauseam.
What well-deserved limbo, don't you agree?
As that continues, I gaze at one of my captors: the french grayhead. Was he trying to save my life or just delay my death for this moment?
He returns my look and I turn away from him and to the one dragging me. The brown-haired knight keeps moving forward with a frown on his face as he ignores my presence.
How long will it be until I arrive at my execution? Only oblivion knows.
Is there any point in final words? People don't know my language and my consciousness will fade away the moment I die, so it will only be a waste of breath.
But it is tempting, to say the least as if to say I'm still present for my execution. But then again, my execution isn't about me. It's only about applying the most famous hammurabian law: an eye for an eye.
And in this case, a successful pegasus rider against a failed dark mage. Talk about pointless comparisons.
Suddenly, A wave of light invades my eyes, blinding me once again. I blink as it burns my cornea. Reminder: dungeons destroy the perception of time. Where it felt like it was only darkness before, it feels like light is burning me now. Wonderful, couldn't this place be any more subtle in telling me that I'm on the wrong side!?
I hear a loud slap. I gaze to my right and see the french with his palm covering his head and sighs. He speaks to the knight, nodding towards his companion's answer and once again the walk starts once anew.
Then the two men stop walking rather suddenly, This allows my knees to breathe for once, after what feels like hours of being dragged around. I lift my head and see a stone-laced courtyard, where the sun touches down on the Shepherds. Ourselves being a few meters away from the entrance and gaps allowing me to see what is in the place.
The archer speaks to the knight and walks towards the courtyard, gazing at the few people scrambling there. While he limps and looks around the place, speaking with that blue thing, I gaze at the people there. The blonde woman from Themis is listening to another blonde girl, her hands trembling as she tries to drink tea.
Shel talks with a high pitch but down-trodden energy, repeating the same sounds as before.
After putting her drink away, the Themisian girl sighs, her voice faltering, sobbing as she tries to control herself in front of the younger girl. But tears do come out, forcing the other girl to hug her. She reciprocates hugging while tears from underneath her eyes
On the other side, a loud weep comes from a brown haired-woman with trembling legs. She walks towards the french but stumbles to the ground and keeps crying like there is no tomorrow.
A red short-haired woman approaches her and crouches down, patting the fallen woman's shoulder. The brunette keeps sobbing even when she gets up and moves to sit on a chair.
A scowl forms on the woman's face, her teeth bare. She marches toward the thing, cracking her knuckles along the way. She stops in front of it and talks with it. The thing doesn't reply, stuck in his own world. The woman pokes at him but no response comes. Even so, she pokes him again, causing it to move its lips.
I hear nothing come out of it, but the woman turns her head around the place. That scowl is now substituted for a fright, her mouth closed as she walks away from it and the entire group as a whole. She gets out of the courtyard.
She comes to me, her brow furrowing once again. The redhead raises her fist, which comes close to my face before she stops and speaks to me. Unfortunately, all my ears can hear is gibberish.
She pulls me by my collar, her first even closer to my face as her gibberish goes on, saliva hitting my face. The knight grabs her fist and talks to her with an imperative tone. The woman then retracts her fist from me and lets me go before walking away.
At this point, it only makes me wanna laugh at the absurdity of all of this. I have killed one of them and here I was causing even more mayhem just by the fact I'm here. Truly, what a despicable action, don't you agree, Gabriel?
From the corner of my eyes, I notice a couple approaching. One is another redhead( how many redheads are there in Ylisse?) with glasses and the other is a blonde man with only one arm, a stump covered in clean white bandages on the other side.
Their normal stroll turns to an erratic one once they see me. The blonde quickens his step and marches in my direction, a frown on his face as he readies his good arm. The lady, on the other hand, quickens her pace as she tries to pass by me, but before she can enter the room our eyes meet.
Her wide open cold eyes make me shiver. A mere monster is in front of her, and as such, nothing but the most contemptuous necessary to slay me. But gazes away and turns her back to me as she enters the courtyard. I notice a little flame on her fingertips that dissipates once she enters properly.
I gulp after noticing the dying flame, my body trembling as the prospect of burning comes to my mind. My screams are nothing next to the Shepherds' laugh and cheer as they witness my cries of agony. make me sick of the stomach, shivers taking over me as my heart beats in the pain of anxiety.
Once the blonde man stops in front of me, my only reaction is my body trembling at its imaginary decay. The blonde man talks to me in a heated tone, hurling sound after sound of meaningless words. He readies his fist and I flinch, falling down to the ground.
I pant on site as images of my execution overwhelm my head. Stabs, punches, burns and, worst of all, the blue-haired monster strangling me, a hateful statement once again whispers in my ear.
Se eu pudesse, eu te matava.
My head trembles as I feel bile crawling up my neck.
The blonde lowers his clenched fist, saliva spewing out as he points at me. I look away from him, putting both of my arms in front of me and crawling into a fetal position. The staring ceases, loud steps being in it's place and once I lower one of my arms, he isn't there anymore.
The knight offers his hand to me. I grab it and am suddenly lifted up from the ground, standing on my own two feet. Despite this, he grabs my wrist, immobilizing my left arm. As such I'm still stuck in hell.
I notice a soft breeze pass through me. I blink, what the hell was that? It was rather quick and even then I'm not dumb enough to pass it off as nothing. I look behind my back and see nothing, once again the breeze passes by. Once I return back to gawking at the door, I see an orange-head man entering.
What?
What was that all about? I'm turning mad at this point! But such goes when we are dealing with death at our throats. I sigh, my wobbly legs falter once again and I let my knees fall onto the ground.
Then he reappears with that orangehead. It seems that my executioner is the guy who passed like a breeze. Why didn't he just stab me already? I look away, but before I know it, the knight drags my body as the duo walks away from the courtyard.
The crack of steps ceases as I turn to a lonely cell amidst the torches. The white stone-laden room doesn't have even a plank or torch. The source of illumination comes from both sides of the cell and underneath us.
Frederick opens the cell's door and shoves me in there. Has the crank behind me sealed my fate for now? What is left to do? I sigh and sit down rubbing my dry blood-painted nose, new skin forming above it. Two people gaze at me as the sound of steps is replaced by silence. I turn and look at both of them as they stare at me.
They shift their sight away from me and to each other, taking a few quick glances before muttering something between themselves and looking back at me. The gray-haired man slips his hand between the bars and offers a tissue. I blink at that sight, but he just slips his hand further in.
I grab the tissue and pass it over my nose. The blood stains the white into red and I return it to him, sticking my hand beyond the bars, but he refuses by waving his hand left and right. With nothing to do, the orange head huffs.
"We are here to get intel out of ya. Do you understand?"
I nod to him before getting up and approaching them.
"Glad that we are on the same page, then." The orange head turns to the gray-haired man and talks to him, before turning back to me.
He points his left hand to the gray-haired man and says, "These are from my pal over here. What do you know about Grima's vessel and how you are related to her?"
I look to my left and to my right. If I tell the truth, will I pay for it? Should I lie?
Well, at this point I think they know she wants to destroy the world, right?
I put my fingers over my chin in a pensive manner. "Well. I don't know if it's anything worth talking about. It isn't like I'm part of the upper echelons, if you know what I mean?"
The orangehead man turns to the archer and presumably translates my words. The gray-haired man frowns and the thief turns back to me.
"I'm sorry, pal, but my partner here doesn't believe you. You and her were pretty much like honey and milk during all battles."
"I might have been, but you can hear my accent.," I retort with a huff. "Do you think that I would be talking with her all the time?"
He nods. "Not a chance in hell, trust me."
He talks to the gray-haired man again, who then makes a confused face and takes a pensive pose. Not long after, he tells the other man something else..
"You see, my partner is a tad confused by what ya saying. This whole accent story is confusing to him and it's not addressing the part about the Vessel. So, what are you exactly?"
I sigh. "A foreigner. Simple as that."
"Just a foreigner." the orange man says in confusion.
I nod to him.
The interpreter relays the information, and the gray-haired man sighs as he pinches his nose. As this happens,The orangehead pulls out a lollipop and starts sucking on it and the archer speak back to his interpreter
"Then if you are, pal, what the hell are you doing here?"
I walk back and forth before giving him the answer. I want reflet but a return back home is a very good but perhaps impossible idea. Stopping the madwoman? I sigh before going back to replying back to him.
"You see, I don't belong here. I wasn't even born or raised in this so-called Plegia, but one day I just appeared there and before long I met her. That is it."
The orange man squints his eyes at me and pinches his mouth before relaying the information to the gray-haired man. For a split second, his eyes become wide open and he turns his gaze to me. Is he angry or something?
He speaks again and the orangehead translates.
"So you aren't from there. Why are you aiding them? Can't you see you're harming innocents?"
I blink at him, before laughing and sighing. "It's funny. You people think there is some kind of grand choice. Well, it's very simple, I'm trying to survive, just like you."
The orange man blinks at me, before relaying the information..
"We can't really believe that," the orange man translates for the other, who stares right at me. "If you were only in for survival, why become friends with the Vessel? Besides, ya could have escaped, y'know?"
"Escape into the desert," I reply, "a place I don't know well. If it were that simple, I don't think I would be talking with you right now. I got stuck in there, away from home, without any choice and had to survive somehow! I know that doesn't make me innocent, but escape to where? Tell me, where can I escape in this world? This hateful world of blood and violence and of dealing with people hating me on all sides!? I don't think the shepard would allow me, after all, that's happened, would they?"
The gray-haired man's look softens as the orange man translates, even though his eyes remain on me.
"Your chances at getting in are pretty dead at this point," the orange man translates. "Better not try it. However, he wants to know one thing: ya seen the violence and everything. Why stick around this conflict, knowing that it will not take you home?"
The words come immediately to my mouth. "I have a friend inside this whole mess. She has really stupid plans that will make us suffer and she needs someone to get into her head and get her away from this path. Yes, I might be lying but it isn't like I can't help her in this whole mess, you know? So that is why I have been sticking around. Otherwise, I don't know. I laugh. "So you know, I'm sticking with her. It's the only good thing that I can do right now."
The orange man sighs before relaying my words and then translating the gray-haired man's reply.
"This is going to be enough for today. We will speak with you again later."
They turn their backs to me and leave me alone.
What an awful day, but this is my punishment after all. I could have focused more on her but, oh well, I have paid my price and know it's time to be executed.
I look down and see the ants come towards my shoes and slowly climb their way towards my leg.
I sit down on the ground and let them. What a sad end it will be, don't you agree, my fellow ant.
It has been a while. Well, for the past 4 months, I have been in one of the worst positions of my life. Especially, dealing with my own madness was hell on earth and let's just leave it at that. But I'm in a better position right now and as such the editing process can go more smoothly.
As such, this chapter may not be the best-edited one. But I hope you liked it anyway. And I will warn that this fic will be going with an irregular release schedule from now on as I'm still not in my prime
Special thanks to Cavik for beta reading this chapter. Thanks for reading this chapter as well. Hope the grammatical was good enough, if not, I'm sorry. As always, reviews are always appreciated.
TheBobcat18: Glad you are liking the fic so far, old friend! I can't comment much on your review because my brain is being rather dumb right now.
ZeroSparrow: Bem, quando você fala foda, eu presumo que você gostou da fic, então obrigado pelo complimento! Também, obrigado por sua gentil messagem.
2010si: Thanks, dude! Update: Forgot to comment you, sorry! Here we go, for me this chapter is always going to be bad, because it was of rather subpar quality. Glad you liked it any way. As for the dreams, wait and see.
Crowbars357: Thanks for the warm message. I'm gladly in a better position right now, so this fic will be returning.
Fumble Flute: Really glad you liked the story to this point! But well, please go rest since, no matter how much you like this fic, you need sleep for your health.
Update: I forgot to answer the others, I'm really dumb. Sorry.
Ascandas: I don't really know, you decide for yourself if you are a sadist or not. I'm not a better position to judge. Cordelia stood a chance, it was just that Gabriel got lucky! Well, Gabriel isn't exactly a top-of-line soldier as such, prepare for mistakes on his part. As for reflet, hope this chapter gives you a hint, and well if you doesn't, he just wants to find a way of stopping reflet without killing her
LucasVAMP: Muito obrigado, cara! De fato, O Brasil não é bem exatemente a terra de fanfics em inglês então como você disse, é de fato uma raridade. Tomare q ue você gostou da fic até agora!
PROTIP: Don't write comments on the night. It makes you forget grammar of any language you learned, be it your native language or second language.