Resonance of Faith
By Dark Interval
Chapter 4: Turn Loose Your Tears
"But I haaaaaaaaaaaaate danger!"
"Grrr… It ain't dangerous, ya gutless wonder! It's just a little heights challenge."
"Did I mention I'm allergic to heights?"
That earned a dramatic eye roll from the former.
"Urgh, you're allergic ta everythin', Dribe…"
After 12 years of living in this world, Roger was inclined to believe that despite the numerous possibilities of what could have been, there were simply some things that were part of Mother Nature's fixed design that could not be altered. He learned that in life, there were three constants: one, all living creatures would eventually die; two, if you swung a door open too hard, it'll swing back and hit you in the face; and three, his good friend was an idiot.
Dribe was staring over the edge of the solitary floating island they were on, his tiny slit eyes blown open so wide, Roger realised that this was the first time he was actually seeing the fox boy's eyes. The former shook his head vehemently and backpedaled until his back hit a tree.
"Nuh-uh! I'm not doing it, real man contest or not. This is crazy!" Then he looked to the younger boy. "You're crazy!"
"Technically, the necessary safety measures have already been put in place," Melt pointed out as he tugged at the crudely tied knot around Dribe's waist. "You have rope."
"I have rope, he says! Hah!"
The fox boy was borderline hysterical. Roger sighed dramatically and stomped towards Dribe to undo the knot around his waist and tie it securely around his own. "Fine, ya big moron. I'll go first." Then puffing out his chest, he turned and marched back to the island's edge. Thundering waterfalls and a 500 meter drop greeted him. The challenge was simple: bungee jump without screaming loud enough to wake the dead, and you've proven that you're a real man. True, there would be less room for unfortunate accidents if they actually had some cords and a harness, but they were working around a budget and those things were expensive.
"Ok, I'm gonna go. Melt, ya ready?"
Said boy nodded an affirmative and twitched his ears for good effort. "Listening for the tiniest of screams, Roger."
With that, Roger took a deep breath, closed his ears and leaped over the edge… only to choke as he got roughly yanked back by the collar of his shirt.
"Either the war's done something to your brain, or you're an even bigger idiot than I thought!"
Roger's eyes immediately flew open and he stopped coughing. That voice.
"L-Lucien?!"
A long brown tail swished in agitation as the young Fellpool in question glared down at him. The older boy still wore the same brown bandana on his head, had the same wooden sword strapped to his hip, looked at him with the same condescending smirk on his lips, and was still annoyingly a whole head taller than him. Behind Lucien, the unmistakable figures of Lezard and Vellion hovered nervously – well, Vellion looked nervous like he always did, while Lezard looked just as cocky as his brother if not a little crazed with his odd glasses. The sight of the latter caused old feelings of dread and panic to resurface in Roger's gut, coupled with an inescapable uselessness as he remembered the young alchemist rushing to save Melt's life when he himself couldn't because he had been too afraid. He remembered Lucien's cold words as his best friend and rival walked out on him. He remembered the end of their friendship and how a group of three never did feel the same. And he remembered the many moons he spent wishing for things to go back to the way they were, as well as his desire to be stronger. The night Nel left the village was the last time their paths crossed. That was half a year ago; so why was Lucien and his gang here now?
Probably ta mock me, he thought and braced himself for the same harsh words the Fellpool had used on him that fateful night.
But they never came.
Instead, Roger felt hands on his shoulders and gasped as he was pulled into a tight and desperate embrace. The momentum caused his helmet to slide off his head and clatter noisily on the ground. Lucien wrapped his arms around the Menodix's smaller form and buried his face in his hair, before sniffing behind Roger's ear in an affectionate gesture. The uncharacteristic behavior made Roger freeze.
"Lucien, wha…?"
"I thought I lost you," said the older boy, voice hoarse with emotion and his solemn tone prompted the Menodix to snap his mouth shut. "When you left the village, when word got out that Airyglyph had you, I… I…"
I was so scared.
And then, Lucien reeled back to punch him in the face.
"Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear?!" he yelled, fist trembling and tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes. "Don't you ever do that to us! We spent days searching for you. I couldn't sleep. Lezard kept screwing up his potions. Vellion couldn't eat. Dribe wouldn't stop crying. And Melt kept blaming himself for letting you go. And then the war happened and dad literally had to tie Lezard and myself to a tree, so we wouldn't follow him. It wasn't fair! Melt could get out there and fight, while all I could do was sit around and pray for a stinkin' miracle! I felt so useless!"
Roger continued to rub his sore cheek as he stared at his once-friend and rival, dumbfounded. He cares. Despite their pasts and Lucien's decision to cut off ties completely, the boy still cared about him – and he had made it very clear in his attempt to literally hammer that fact into him. Hard. And so, Roger laughed; he laughed so hard his cheeks turned pink and his smile reached his eyes; the happiest he had been since he first met Ameena. Lucien forgave him. His friends loved him and Roger could never ask for anything better.
It was his turn to pull the Fellpool into a hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and he really meant it. For all the trouble he put them through, the sleepless nights, his recklessness and desperation to prove himself, his selfishness, and for failing to see that the very reason Lucien had been so upset in the first place was because he really cared about his friends.
Lucien smiled. "Yeah, well, we all make mistakes. I've made some pretty dumb ones myself."
"Well, ya know what they say: brothers fight," Roger added, which earned him a chuckle from the other.
"Yeah, I guess they do."
There was an impatient huff from behind them.
"Come onnnnn, you two! Hurry up already," Lezard goaded in his usual drawl as he pushed up his large glasses. "If we're going to have a 'Real Man' contest, then I'll need to see some actual contesting. Vellion and I didn't come all this way just to see you two make up for 999 years." However, his words betrayed the warm and relieved smile on his face.
"He has a point there, guys," said Melt good naturedly as he handed another length of rope to Lucien. "I do agree that victory isn't quite as gratifying without a little competition. Also, Dribe chickened out."
"Hey!"
"Hm…" Lucien considered the tempting offer as he turned to address his old rival. "Whaddaya say, goofball? For old times sake."
Roger grinned. "I say, you're on!" Then he snapped his fingers at Lezard to get his attention. "What's the score, Lezard?"
Said Fellpool cackled, all too eager to get the show started. "If my calculations are correct, you won 47 times, my brother won 48 times, and there were 1504 ties!"
"Heh! Make that 48 times and 1505 ties, cuz I'm gonna win!"
"Dream on, pipsqueak!"
"But is it safe?" asked Vellion unsurely as he studied the drop. It really was a long way down.
"No, it isn't!" Dribe shrieked.
Melt nodded at Vellion. "Positive. They have rope."
"Rope isn't safe enough!"
Vellion's eyes widened as if enlightened. "Ah, if there's rope, they'll be fine I think…"
"Guys!"
"Alright, gentlemen. On the count of three," Melt raised his fingers and the two rivals got into position as they readied themselves for the jump.
"1… 2… 3!"
"Are any of you even listening to me?!"
A pair of pink glossy lips inched up into a fond smile, as the Aquarian stepped away from the city's lookout point and removed herself from the scene. Honestly, it hadn't been difficult to find Roger and his friends; the small, detached isle hovered just under the main city square, plus the amount of racket they made in their excitement was enough to wake the dead. At first, she was half-tempted to join them and see the look on the boys' faces at the return of 'Lieutenant Nel', but decided against it. Once upon a time, they had great adventures together; now, it was Roger's turn to go on his own adventure and forge the path to his brilliant world.
Nel paused to survey her surroundings, before picking a direction and sticking to it. She didn't really have a purpose coming to the city square, but Her Majesty had temporarily relieved her off her duties to seek out some peace and quiet, which left her with only two options: lie in bed at the South Side Inn all day and stare at the ceiling, or explore the Lost City. The answer to that was a no-brainer, so here she was wandering the streets and trying her hardest not to stick out like a sore thumb. Unfortunately, being the only human amongst a kingdom of humanoids made the task rather difficult. It never felt so bad at Roger's village, though she supposed it was a combination of affinity and a smaller populace.
Regardless, she was well known and well loved by the people, many of whom recognized her by name, status and her strong ties with the Huxley family. A few humanoid families waved and smiled at her out of greeting and she encountered a fair share of little girls run up to her brandishing makeshift wooden daggers with proud and zealous grins on their faces. Surferio's hospitality and innocence made her feel a little guilty for her actions during the recent war. Here, there were people who admired her, yet there were many humanoid soldiers who perished under her command.
No more fighting. That was why she was here, wasn't it? To make peace with the nations and push for an armistice, even if the reason was a little unorthodox. She just hoped Airyglyph's King would change his mind, and her stomach fluttered nervously at the thought of tomorrow's second conference. Albel or no Albel, she would hold her tongue this time. They needed to make this truce happen. They needed to stand united to face the future.
Suddenly, she stopped walking and the sigh that escaped her mouth was anything but sentimental.
"You've been following me since I arrived. If you wished to join me, you only needed to ask."
There was a second's pause, before Cliff emerged from a row of shop houses sheepishly. He was rubbing his neck in a way that clearly indicated his discomfort of being found out.
"Can't pull the wool over your pretty eyes, huh?"
"No," she replied with a slight smirk. "And having attractive eyes has nothing to do with my skills."
"Touché."
She placed her hands on her hips and observed him curiously. "What are you doing here? Why are you following me?"
He shrugged. "Same reason as you, I guess. If Fayt and I had to spend another minute in that room counting cracks in the ceiling, I'd mildew!"
The Klausian's expressiveness never failed to inspire laughter from her lips. "I take it Fayt is here as well?"
"We all are actually. The kid went off with Maria to check out what armor and weapons they carry here, and Mirage is busy at one of the taverns challenging a poor bloke who got suckered into arm-wrestling her for a date. I kind of feel sorry for him; she's probably going easy on him; but we all know that date's not happening."
Nel shook her head at that. "And let me guess," she paused to shoot him a knowing stare, "You would have stayed to secure the bets, but you decided to stalk me instead."
"Hey now, stalking is a very strong word. I prefer 'observing with reason'."
"Alright, mister observer, what did you notice?" Nel countered, bemused.
"Well, I saw you watching those furry little chipmunks for almost half an hour," Cliff replied, his expression soft as a fond smile entered his eyes at the memory of how happy and contented the Aquarian had looked, like a mother watching her children grow up. "You're pretty fond of those brats, aren't you? Especially the overgrown squirrel."
Nel sighed at the blonde's less than favorable description of Roger, but otherwise chose not to comment on it.
"Of course I am. The Huxleys are my family," she paused to take in her new surroundings with an uncharacteristic hesitance. "And I suppose… Surferio is my new home."
"You really want this armistice to work, don't you?" said Cliff without missing a beat. He had gotten a lot better at reading the Aquarian's tone and body language, plus he was almost a hundred percent sure that Nel hadn't been faking her rage towards the King when the latter started to reconsider his decision. "Anyway, the reason I followed you is because I wanted to thank you."
Nel blinked in surprise. "For what?"
"For defending us and continuing to trust us, even after everything that's happened," he said in all seriousness and for a moment, Nel could have sworn the normally lively and easygoing blonde aged a little from his confession. "And," he continued as he fixed her with a meaningful stare, gaze smoldering, "for forgiving me for the stories I spun and for starting something we both can't finish."
When said out loud like that, the truth only reminded Nel about her anger and sadness about their situation, about their first meeting and her subsequent relationship with Cliff, despite how short-lived it was. And yet, she couldn't stay mad at him; hurt, yes, but the rage had only been temporary. She and Cliff were a lot alike and shared similar priorities, so she understood, even if their relationship suffered from the consequences. Then again, she supposed she only had herself to blame for willingly putting her heart on her sleeve, for a man who couldn't promise her anything more tangible than fleeting dreams.
"I can't say I forgive you, not just yet," she finally answered in truth. "But from one mission person to another, I understand why you did what you did. Fayt was your charge and you were doing whatever it took to protect him and prevent outsiders from jeopardizing the mission. It was your duty."
"Yeah? How'd you figure that?"
Nel frowned, confused by Cliff's response. "W-Well… Quark is supposedly a–"
"No, I meant the first one, about forgiveness." And a small smile grace his features as he closed the gap between them in short, calm strides. He ducked his head to seek Nel's blushing gaze. "I'll do whatever it takes, I'll wait for you. You think you could do it before we leave?"
"Why?"
"So we can finish what we both started."
Nel's chest fluttered and clenched painfully at the same time from Cliff's heartfelt words. Now she understood how it felt like to be both happy and sad at the same time. It was excruciating, yet wonderful; frustrating, yet left her with a certain sort of peace. Cliff loved her. He loved her and was willing to see this through till the very end, even if there was nothing to gain but heartbreak. And… she loved him. She loved him enough to follow this crazy man's offer and run with him, until his star ship disappeared above the clouds and she could run no more.
"Alright."
"Good. Catch!"
Nel gave a start and she quickly raised her hands, palms up to catch a small paper bag. It was warm and when she opened it, a small amount of steam came out.
"What's this?" she asked as she plucked at the foreign pastry. It was soft and fluffy like a cake, but shaped like a fish.
"The furries call it Dorayaki," Cliff explained with a laugh as he watched her sniff at it and take a hesitant bite. "It's basically pastry filled with red bean paste, so it's a little sweet. I prefer calling them stuffed fish pancakes myself."
Nel rolled her eyes good naturedly. "How poetic."
They walked down the streets in comfortable silence, Nel eating her dorayaki contemplatively, while Cliff took his time window shopping. With the sun going down, fairy lights dancing in the skies, and the pavements lined with quaintly designed street lamps, the scene felt rather romantic. In fact, it almost felt like a date, but Cliff decided to keep his mouth shut lest he ruined the moment. They entered a blacksmith where Cliff got his gauntlets repaired with a few nifty upgrades, such as his sudden ability to perform Earth Glaive, which he got all excited about. "I think I'm starting to like this place!" he had said, and Nel couldn't resist shaking her head fondly at his enthusiasm. Really, the blonde muscle man acted more like a kid than an adult, but it was endearing rather than annoying.
It was when they were waiting at the ship dock at sundown when Nel suddenly spoke up.
"Don't worry, we'll help you escape safely. Even if Airyglyph refuses to join forces, I'll do whatever it takes to get you out. I… I believe you people are worthy of my trust."
Cliff stared at her in complete shock and for a moment, his mind drew a blank. But soon enough, a grateful smile spread across his face, one that Nel had never seen as sincere and beautiful as now.
"Thanks, Nel. Coming from you, I really appreciate it."
'Great going, genius. You just had to get distracted by that fun fair and their stupid games and now you're the only one waiting for a dumb boat,' Fayt mentally berated himself as he sat miserably at the pier by himself. Oh well, at least he managed to win Maria that Adorable Kitty Doll she liked so much. Leader of a notorious anti-federation organization or not, all girls were the same, along with their natural gravitation towards all things cute and cuddly. That thought brought a smile to his lips. Maybe she reminded him of Sophia or he found her rare smiles charming, but there was just something gratifying about seeing Maria happy. Quark's leader was always so serious, and there was always a sad, wistful look deep in her eyes that Fayt couldn't quite shake off. It was the kind of sadness that a girl her age shouldn't have to experience, like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders and the burden was much too great to bear alone.
So much for that. Maria had left earlier for the South Side Inn to take a call from someone by the name of Marietta, while he opted to stay in his determination to beat one of the game stalls. Hey, what could he say? He kind of enjoying moving target strike games and on an underdeveloped planet such as this one, this was the closest he could get to even a fraction of the archaic Earth 'Space Invaders' game. Besides, those targets were insane. And so, he beat the game (apparently the only person who ever managed to) and won the grand prize of 250,000 fol. At least he had his next meals, armor and weapon repairs covered, along with a comfortable sum to tinker at a workshop if he felt like it.
But every silver lining had a shadow, and now he found himself stuck waiting for the last ship that would depart Surferio's city square, which he wasn't even sure was coming at all because it was already twilight. Plus, he left his communicator back at the inn, thus leaving him completely stranded.
Should've left with Maria, he thought regretfully, should've remembered that the whole city's floating. Things were less convenient when they weren't connected; then again, it wasn't everyday Fayt visited a kingdom without a ground and a whole lot of floating islands.
Just when he contemplated asking a local for ship timings, a familiar vessel with golden sails and gliders pulled up next to him. Delightful tinkling music emitted from its design like an orgel, reminding Fayt of those quaint little antique music boxes his mother liked to collect back at home. And from the deck appeared Roger, who appeared both eager and unsure in his presence. The Menodix blinked at him with wide, curious eyes.
"Fayt? What're ya doin' here so late? The last ship left 10 minutes ago."
His comment left the Earthling feeling even more sorry for himself.
Well, bugger that.
Fayt sighed and let loose a humorless chuckle. "Guess that explains why I'm the only one here."
"Oh."
Roger bit his lip and considered the swordsman's predicament. True, he had a boat of his own and South Side wasn't inconvenient to get to, but Fayt and him were in a weird place in their relationship right now and he didn't know if he could handle being alone with the older male for an entire boat ride. However, before he could stop to think, his heart acted on impulse and the question had already left his mouth.
"Do ya need a ride? I know where South Side Inn is… I could take ya there."
His unexpected and generous offer actually left Fayt momentarily stunned. Not only had Roger taken the initiative to talk to him, but he also offered to help him. Given the way the humanoid had pushed him away and refused to look at him since his apology, he never expected Roger to willingly suggest being alone together in such close proximity. The boy's behavior was hot and cold; his actions confused him (did Roger still like him or not?), but Fayt wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Thanks, Roger. You're a lifesaver."
With that, he vaulted over the port side rails and they were off, speeding through the clouds of a milky twilight.
The trip was generally quiet, save the slight creaking of wood every time Roger turned the wheel and the rustling of fabric from the billowing sails. Fayt laid out comfortably on the deck, head propped on his arms as he stared up at the darkening skies and the numerous twinkling stars. They painted the heavens in trails of glittering diamonds; and if Fayt thought the stars were beautiful in Airyglyph, they were even more breathtaking in Surferio. The air was cool, calm and peaceful, not at all awkward like he imagined. Roger steered wonderfully, a clear indication that the boy did this often; and the luxury of space definitely beat cramming together with a dozen over people on the public vessels. With a contented sigh, Fayt closed his eyes and allowed the boat's gentle rocking to soothe his troubled mind. Damn, I could get used to this…
"Hey, don't fall asleep on me, or I'll have ta toss ya overboard," said Roger in a teasing voice, laughing at his own joke.
Fayt sat up and feigned hurt. "Aw, but I'm too young, good looking and talented to die…" But he broke off laughing when Roger threw one of his shoes his way. He caught the small, child-size boot effortlessly and shot the Menodix his usual smile. Roger rolled his eyes.
"Yeesh, yer soooo full of yerself!"
"What can I say? I learned from the best."
"Ok, somebody's gonna walk the plank fer that!"
They stared each other down, before the facade crumbled and both boys broke off into a series of giggles. Fayt's expression turned tender as he continued to look at the innocent child before him, taking in the way his smile lit up his eyes with adoration and a deep longing. Roger looked away with a blush, ears fluttering in embarrassment. He really hated how the swordsman's stares did funny things to his stomach.
"A-Anyway," he opted for a change in subject, "What were ya doin' at City Square so late?"
"I was hanging around the fun fair with Maria." Fayt shrugged, casually gazing out at the passing scenery and completely missing the jealous expression on the humanoid's face. "She really wanted this stuffed kitty doll, so I won it for her. We played some more games after that – oh, and turns out she's insanely good at shooting games, go figure." An excitable spark entered his eyes at the memory. "It was great. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much. Back on earth, there weren't many people who could keep up with me; I even had to force Sophia to spend at least three minutes on the battle simulator and she would complain after five seconds!" Fayt chuckled fondly at the thought of his childhood and best friend, and was reminded just how much he missed her.
"Sophia's yer best friend, right? The girl who looks a lot like Ameena?" Roger clarified.
"Yeah, that's right. Maria's no Sophia, but she's probably the only person I know who's good at games and even beat me twice!"
"Sounds like a challenge," came Roger's bitter tone, but being the dense guy that he was, Fayt never actually noticed. The truth of the matter was, he couldn't stand their conversation any longer. He didn't want to hear about Maria or how amazing she was. He didn't want to see the spark that lit up Fayt's eyes everytime he mentioned how good at games the beautiful gunslinger was. Roger knew he wasn't as amazing as he often proclaimed himself to be; he enjoyed games, but he wasn't very good at them; his aim wasn't that great, so he preferred to fight close range; and he wasn't from Fayt and Maria's world. God help him if he knew what a battle simulator was. But… that's just it; the more Fayt shared, the more Roger realised they had less things in common and the distance between them only seemed to grow greater. Like an attractive, polished sword forged in the latest design, Maria was new – sharper, deadlier, more stylish; whereas he was worn out, but kept out of sentiment.
"You've been spending a lot of time with her lately. Ya two close friends?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that. It's just…" And at this, Fayt's carefree smile fell. "Maybe it's because I feel like she's the only person here who gets me, who doesn't see me as some kind of monster."
The swordsman's words and despondent tone sent a sharp pang through Roger's heart. It wasn't just the lonely expression on Fayt's face that hurt him. All this while, he had thought he was the only person who understood Fayt on an intimate level, but it seemed the older male felt otherwise and now found solace in someone else. Furthermore, he was implicitly accusing him for a thought that never once crossed his mind. Then again, all he ever did was push Fayt away, so it was easily mistaken.
"Ya ain't a monster, Fayt," Roger whispered, silently willing the other understand he didn't hate him. I don't think you're a monster. But Fayt's sardonic laugh made the Menodix's ears flatten against his head in shame.
"Hah, that's a good one." With a pause, Fayt ran through all the memories in his head from the past few weeks, a troubled frown upon his brow. "The thing is, I don't remember. I don't remember anything. All I hear are these stories that everyone's been telling me about how I single handedly destroyed the Vendeeni battleship with these powers I never knew I had, about how I can destroy practically anything if I so willed it."
His answer came as a genuine surprise to Roger, who strained his head over the steering wheel to observe Fayt. When he did, the blue haired teen was staring blankly at his hands, which trembled, as if horrified at the very prospect of what he had done and what he could potentially do again.
"Woah, wait a mean… ya didn't know?"
"About my powers? No!" Fayt shook his head vehemently, frustrated at the situation. "For 19 years, I grew up believing I was just a normal college student from earth! I was barely passing symbological genetics and my foundational studies of astrobiology still gives me nightmares. The only powers I thought I had was clocking an average of over 200 APM!"
"I… Um… what's APM?"
If the situation had been any different, he would have thought Roger's befuddled expression to be utterly adorable.
"It's a gaming term, basically an abbreviation of 'actions per minute'. A casual player has about 50 actions, an experienced player has about 75 actions and…" Realizing he had probably lost Roger a long time ago, Fayt decided to drop the subject completely. "Never mind, pretend I never said anything."
The Earthling went back to stargazing, while a poor Roger struggled between his better judgement and his compassion. But Fayt looked so alone, so lost – and in the end, the latter decision won as Roger secured the rudder and stepped away from the wheel, so he had Fayt's figure in plain sight. The swordsman didn't realise he was being watched, until Roger opened his mouth.
"… I saw ya, ya know? When it happened." Fayt turned and raised an eyebrow questionably. "But... I didn't see ya destroy that ship. In that moment, there was something else I saw; something much more important… Wanna know what it is?" An innocent gleam filled his large brown eyes. They held Fayt's gaze and he couldn't resist the pull of those eyes as he slowly approached the child.
"What?" He dared to breathe and his voice turned thick with anticipation and longing. The slight flush of Roger's cheeks only served to spur him on.
"All I saw, was two big, beautiful white wings, and a body bathed in the brightest, warmest light I've ever felt." He closed his eyes and smiled happily at the memory. "I didn't see a monster; I saw an angel. My angel. The one that I wished fer. The one that came all the way from the stars ta protect me. The one that I lo–" And when he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find Fayt standing right in front of him, expression unreadable, until he ducked his head and his lips were but a hair's breadth away from his.
"That you…?" Fayt whispered passionately, knowingly, his eyes half-lidded. A pair of hands snaked around the back of Roger's neck and cradled his head tenderly, inclining it so that he could fully capture the boy's needy gaze with his own. Then, he brought their bodies even closer and the pleasant heat that surrounded Roger from the contact caused him to let out an involuntary moan. And when the boy thought things couldn't get even more out of control, Fayt lips brushed against his softly, gently, barely a kiss; yet it produced the same desired effect, if not more. Roger's cheeks bloomed a beautiful red and his entire body trembled with desire for the swordsman in his arms. It's been too long. Small fingers curled against Fayt's chest. Gods, he missed him.
"F-Fayt… I…"
"Roger…"
A tongue licked teasingly at his lips and they parted immediately with a quiet gasp.
"F-Fayt... I… I love–"
Suddenly, the boat gave a violent jerk and the pair landed on the floor with a loud 'thud'. Due to Roger's inattention, they had crashed straight into the floating island where South Side Inn stood. Fayt didn't seem to mind the interruption to their moment though, as he let out a quiet chuckle.
"Looks like we made it, rather forcefully anyway," he mused, before getting up and offering his hand to Roger for the latter to do the same. "Thanks for the ride. I guess this is goodnight?"
The way Fayt asked that last bit clearly indicated that he didn't want to leave, and neither did Roger. They had shared something back there. Something neither had experienced since the outbreak of the war and the start to the string of complications surrounding their relationship.
Since that time in Castle Aquaria's bathing chamber, Roger had almost forgotten how it felt like to kiss Fayt, to hold and be held by him like a goddess and openly worshipped through his smoldering stare alone, like he was the only living soul in the entire universe that meant a damn thing. Roger felt his feelings and thoughts start to change the moment he realised Fayt was in fact, oblivious to his own powers. The guy had no idea those Vendeeni wanted him, no idea they would chase him down and open fire on a slew of innocent people just to get to him, no idea Ameena would die in the crossfire, and couldn't possibly imagine or account for the sheer amount of damage and loss of lives caused during the attack on Aire Hills. This whole time, he had misunderstood the situation and Fayt's position. The swordsman was innocent in this entire conspiracy and he felt horrible for blaming Fayt, for treating him the way that he did. Like Lucien said, everyone made mistakes, some dumber than others – and Roger felt his was the dumbest of them all . If Fayt was kind, if he could give him a second chance, Roger hoped he could earn his forgiveness and love once more. He wanted to keep trying, even if things couldn't return exactly to the way they once were. But at the very least, they could go forward. He had to try.
"Um… Fayt?"
"Yes?"
Roger blushed and Fayt thought it was the prettiest thing he had ever seen… though he had a feeling Roger would sock him upside the head for that. Real men weren't supposed to be pretty.
"Would ya like ta… um… come fer the 'Kingdom Dance'?" he asked as his tail swished about in stiff, apprehensive motions. "It's a celebration we hold once every midsummer's eve at Surferio. The whole city's invited and there's food and drinks – and music! Everyone gathers ta dance together; it's like a huge party! Mama's gonna sing as always, and I'll be playing with the other musicians…" At this, he lowered his gaze and nervously rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots. "I-If ya aren't doin' anythin' ta'nite, ya could… maybe… come?"
Fayt chuckled at the innocent display. Roger really was cute. He ducked down and placed a quick kiss on the surprised Menodix's cheek. "It's a date." And with that, he grabbed his things and leaped off the boat and onto the stone path, which led up to South Side Inn.
Roger scrambled to the side of the boat and called out to him, tail wagging. "It's at the Plaza! There's a ship that comes around 8. Oh, and ya can invite the rest too – even the king and queen! There's plenty of food fer everyone!"
Fayt laughed and saluted him in the distance. "You got it!"
Tentatively, Roger reached up to touch the spot where Fayt had kissed him, and watched the blue haired swordsman enter the inn and shut the door behind him with a smile on his face. He couldn't wait for tonight.
Music and merriment filled the warm nighttime air, as the crowd gathered at Surferio's Plaza to celebrate the midsummer harvest under the light of the full moon. Stalls selling various culinary fancies and colorful concoctions of both alcohol and non-alcoholic variety, lined every road and street. Each one appeared to try and outdo one other with their goods and decorations; it was like a bazaar of never-ending colour, light and sound; and the quaint little buildings and houses, as well as the clear and shimmering night sky provided a charming backdrop for the entire scene. Chimney smoke rose up from the buildings in faint wisps; each stall was sufficiently lit; and the excitable laughter of humanoids pervaded the air as they spotted their new foreign guests amongst them.
Fayt and company had arrived a little under an hour ago, and were now exploring the bustling Plaza. Roger was right; there really was a lot of food to go around for supper and the group often found themselves spoiled for choice. It was a painful, life and death decision, but Cliff eventually settled for some tomato rice wrapped in the fluffiest and most perfect omelette he had ever seen, only to screw his indecision and went back for those awesome-looking gravy covered balls filled with tentacles of some animal which name he couldn't even come close to pronouncing right. When he came back, an additional plate of colourful balls of flour covered in sweet sauce sat in his other hand, and an exasperated Nel had to help the very happy Klausian carry some of his food. In the end, the pair just ended up sharing everything, including a pint of beer. While Cliff and Nel made themselves at home, Fayt had his hands full of food and drink and patiently followed Maria around as she perused the few handmade trinkets and traditional folk craft from whichever stall they passed. The more time he spent with her, the more he realised Maria was into the arts and culture, despite her advanced technological know-how and logic-centered approach to everything. In a way, she was a balance of him and Sophia, which was a little strange. He guessed one really couldn't judge a book by its cover.
It wasn't a surprise that Albel declined participating in such "meaningless celebratory garbage", as he had so eloquently put it. What was a surprise though, was that Romeria had insisted on coming along; and what was even more surprising was that despite his escort's absence, Arzei too showed interest in joining them. Mirage had politely offered to step in on Albel's behalf; and so, while the two rulers observed the night's festivities, she and Nel kept close in between their own patronage.
"I never would have guessed the Sanmite Republic to throw such lively and large scale celebrations," Arzei mused as he fell in pace with the silent Holy Mother.
"Yes, it is quite lovely. I am grateful for Roger's invitation to partake in his kingdom's customs," Romeria replied, admiring the decor and giggling humanoid families who passed them by. "20 years ago, Airyglyph and Aquaria held such combined celebrations. Our kingdoms took turns hosting the solstices. Do you remember?"
"How could I forget?" he replied with a fond chuckle. "After all, that was when we first met. You were only a young temple maiden."
"And you were Airyglyph's Prince."
"Yes, things were much simpler back then," he reached out to gently grasp her hands in his, eyes warm and full of longing as their gazes locked. "Sometimes, I lie awake at night wishing for the past. Isn't it foolish for a king to do so? I fear it may be a sign of age…"
Romeria allowed a sliver of emotion to show on her face, before breaking eye contact to stare down at their connected hands, Arzei's larger ones over her smaller ones, and for a brief moment, she had a vision of a young boy holding a little girl's hands in the exact same fashion. The memory was so strong, it made her heart lurch painfully.
"We cannot repeat the past, Arzei," she whispered and reluctantly pulled away. The King let her, though his expression remained inexplicably amorous.
"That may be true, Romeria," he conceded, "but we can move forward and create a better future – for ourselves and for our people. I have faith."
"Arzei…"
"Um… Your majesty, your highness?" Fayt interrupted the pair, who turned to him curiously. He bowed respectfully, before indicating at the raised gazebo at the center of the Plaza. A crowd was already starting to gather and a large area was cordoned off in front of it for the dance floor. "Sorry for intruding, but I think the performance is about to start. Would you like to move up front?"
As if on cue, the rest of their party joined them, Nel and Mirage gazing at their charges expectantly. Romeria and Arzei shared a meaningful stare.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" said the King with a smile. "Let's go before the good spots are taken."
At the gazebo overlooking the vast crowd, Roger played a few simple chords on his flute. The other musicians were busy tuning their instruments, while Forte Huxley did some simple vocal warm ups. Roger's eyes searched the crowd, until they found Fayt's sparkling emerald ones. He came. His tail wagged happily, which didn't go unnoticed by the blue haired teen. "Good luck," Fayt mouthed from his place in the audience and Roger smiled, his heart beating a tattoo against his chest. Tonight couldn't be more perfect.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd, as his mother sang the opening verse of a renowned folk song; her voice carrying clear and beautiful across the Plaza.
A kite above a graveyard grey
At the end of the line far far away
A child holding on to the magic of birth and awe
Roger brought his flute to his lips and played the chords of a gentle song he knew all too well. The vibrations reverberated through the air, the flute's melody touching every ear and enchanting the soul. A lute followed his cue and the rhythmic accompaniment brought magic to Forte's resonant voice.
Oh, how beautiful it used to be
Just you and me far beyond the sea
The waters, scarce in motion
Quivering still
A violin joined the ensemble, and she raised her head to the chorus.
A the end of the river the sundown beams
All the relics of a life long lived
Here, weary traveler rest your wand
Sleep the journey from your eyes
Fayt watched on, mesmerized by the nostalgic quality of Forte's voice and Roger's skillful playing. The flute sounded almost hypnotic in the quiet of the night, and each instrument in the band complemented one another perfectly. It was a simple tune, yet Roger played beautifully with surprising grace and finesse. The Menodix had such a dynamic personality: he was a fighter; a trickster; a dreamer; an artist – and Fayt found himself falling more in love with him with each new discovery, with every passing moment.
By then, a few couples had made their way to the open dance floor in front of the gazebo and began to dance in a slow waltz. Nel watched the romantic scene with a soft smile on her lips, while Cliff watched her with an uncharacteristically nervous expression on his face. His fingers twitched as he inched towards the oblivious red head, but his hand quickly returned to his side every time he chickened out. Mirage observed her childhood friend with an exasperated roll of her eyes, before none too gently shoving Cliff at the obvious object of his affections. Nel started at the contact and he immediately collected himself, clearing his throat and then extending his hand in invitation for a dance. With wide eyes, she gazed at him in a mixture of awe and disbelief, before shyly accepting his hand with a light blush on her cheeks. Cliff led Nel to the dance floor and pulled her close, and being the only human couple moving in a sea of humanoids, their romantic declaration couldn't be more apparent.
Good journey, love, time to go
I checked your teeth and warmed your toes
In the horizon I see them coming for you
The mermaid grace, the forever call
Beauty in spyglass on an old man's porch
The mermaids you turn loose brought back your tears
Romeria watched her high commander in surprise, unaccustomed to seeing the usually serious and headstrong Aquarian so unrestrained and carefree – and with one of the outsiders no less! As she watched the pair dance with an uncanny familiarity, she failed to sense the presence of a certain Glyphian, until he opened his mouth.
"Do you miss it? Our midnight rendezvous?" said Arzei, as he looked on at the scene with a wistful sigh. "When your family came to visit, we would sneak up to the north tower and dance beneath the falling snow. When it was my turn, we would creep down to the chapel and claim it as our own."
Romeria closed her eyes in remembrance. "... Yes, I do. But is it wrong for a Queen to indulge in such thoughts? We are no longer children, Arzei." But she gasped when said man offered his arm to her. "A-Arzei, what…?"
"We are no longer in Airyglyph or Aquaria, and tonight we are neither king nor queen. Just this once, can we ignore the chains of pride that define and divide us," said Arzei, gaze and tone beseeching, his love profound. "This is the Lost City, my dear Romeria; no one will judge us here. For old times sake, may I have this dance?"
At the end of the river the sundown beams
All the relics of a life long lived
Here, weary traveler rest your wand
Sleep the journey from your eyes
And to Arzei's immense surprise, Romeria gracefully hooked her arm around his and sharing a secret smile, they proceeded to the dance floor together. The humanoids beamed at the charming sight and happily made room for the childhood sweethearts. A drumbeat sounded in the distance and the violins' tempo increased, as the climax of the song picked up.
At the end of the river the sundown beams
All the relics of a life long lived
Here, weary traveler rest your wand
Sleep the journey from your eyes
The blaring of a trumpet sounded over the other instruments at the song's interlude. Drums broke into a march and Roger's flute pitched like the whistling of a lone traveler journeying across high mountains. The atmosphere of this poetic tale was truly amazing, pulling the audience in as characters of their own story, lost in a world of music and rhyme. The song transitioned from slow to upbeat. In the swirl of colour and moving bodies, Fayt stood and stared past the dancing figures at his little trickster with his flute, as he contemplated his next move. Albel wasn't here, Roger obviously still felt something for him, and he would be damned if he allowed this opportunity to go to waste. Only problem was, he had no bloody clue how to dance.
At the end of the river the sundown beams
All the relics of a life long lived
Here, weary traveler rest your wand
Sleep the journey from your eyes
Roger looked up in the middle of his playing and was immediately held captive by Fayt's intoxicating gaze. He couldn't stop playing though, since his part was not yet through; but he felt his heart hammer excitedly against his ribs when he saw the handsome swordsman make his way through the crowd and head straight for him. His tail wagged in anticipation the closer Fayt got. He looked so determined, so impossibly eager, and his smoldering stare made Roger hot with arousal. Is he really gonna…?
But just then, Maria cut into his path and grabbed him by the hands. Fayt stared at her in surprise and sputtered something indiscernible, but she simply laughed and dragged him to the dance floor with twirl and jovial sway of her hips. He stumbled after her, stiff and unsure at first, but mimicking Maria's moves was not difficult and soon enough, they were clapping to the beat and dancing around each other in perfect harmony. From his spot in the band, Roger stared and felt his heart break.
At the end of the river the sundown beams
All the relics of a life long lived
Here, weary traveler rest your wand
Sleep the journey from your eyes!
Forte's singing receded into the background and the band took center stage with their music. Drum beats got louder and more pronounced; fiddles and violins waxed their melodies under the light of the full moon; and the lute strummed to the beat of the couples' clapping as human and humanoid alike danced and made merry to a midsummer night's cheer. Fayt spun Maria around in an elegant twirl. Cliff lifted Nel by the waist and spun her around. And Arzei had Romeria in a romantic dip, lips but a breath apart, just as the song drew to a close. Upon noticing the King and Queen's close proximity, the crowd burst into a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles; even Fayt and gang encouraged the pair with applause of their own. However, the only person who did not share the crowd's happiness, was a certain 12-year-old Menodix boy.
Roger watched from his seat as Maria continued to hang off Fayt's arm, the pair laughing and smiling as they came down from the evening's high. Fayt never once looked his way; it hurt so much; and just when he thought his evening couldn't get any worse, Maria leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss Fayt on the cheek. Stunned, the teen looked at her with wide eyes; she smiled shyly and he blushed in response.
Angry tears welled up in Roger's eyes. Fayt, ya liar… ya big fat liar! With a snarl, he threw his flute aside and ran off into the night, his heartbroken sobs a faint whisper amongst the stars.
Idiot, liar, moron, jerk… No good two timin' dummy!
Roger sniffed and kicked a stone in his path. He had no tears left to shed, his anger waned, but his heart felt like it had been ripped in two and the pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He tried to tell himself it wasn't real, that what he saw must have been a trick caused by the faerie lights, but denial helped no one and even Roger knew pathetic when he heard it. Still, the confusion and hurt remained; Fayt's words contradicted his actions; and he was left to pick up the shattered fragments of his already beaten and bruised heart. Did Fayt really love him, or just the thought of him? Which was it?
If only things could be as simple as they were back in Arias, he thought sadly as he looked to the sky and saw a shooting star fly pass, if only I didn't like Fayt as much as I do now.
The streets that led to the island's outskirts were silent and empty. Everyone was at the Plaza celebrating, but Roger didn't feel like going back for fear of what he might find. He had enough surprises for one evening, thank you very much. Plus, the wound Fayt inflicted was still raw and he didn't trust himself not to break down crying in front of said man and the gang. Nel would demand for answers and he didn't have the strength to confront the truth again. For now, he just wanted to be alone.
Thankfully, he knew a place.
It was a secluded clearing at the island's southeastern border: previously, it made up part of Surferio's forest, but the land had broken up into various floating segments over the years, with this biggest part converted into the Plaza. While majority of this place got developed, a small portion of the old forest still remained – and that was where he was going. The clearing was located the furthest from the town's hustle and bustle, isolated by the covering of shadows and trees. It's cliff side overlooked Peterny in the near distance, beholden to the most amazing view of the trading town's picturesque nightscape. Not many people knew of this place, and Roger was pretty sure only he and his friends knew how to access this particular area… at least, that was what he thought, until now.
There, in the middle of the secluded clearing on a giant tree stump, sat none other than Albel the Wicked, his posture relaxed and head inclined towards the stars. A soft, contemplative expression adorned his sharp, handsome features that were usually set in a dark and broody frown; and a warm breeze blew past, causing his long dark hair and wrappings to flutter behind him. There was just something so darkly alluring about the knight's stoic silhouette; Albel really was a work of art; and Roger continued to observe him silently from behind a tree, curious and fascinated over his unexpected presence. What in the world was Albel doing here? Why wasn't he at the Plaza? How did he manage to find this place?
And then all of a sudden, without averting his gaze from the heavens, Albel spoke clearly into the night, "How long do you intend to watch me, little fool? I know you're there."
Roger gave a start and for a moment, kept incredibly still. He hesitated; this was Albel Nox, a murderer and the cruelest swords master in all of Gaitt, who could cut off his head faster than he could scream for mercy. Did he really want to announce himself to a killer, much less risk being alone with him? That thought gave him pause, as he recalled their very first encounter in Peterny and how he healed the Glyphian's arm. At that time, he had witnessed Albel at his most vulnerable… and then at the Kirlsa Training Facility, he had let them go. Not only that, but he killed his own lieutenant before their very eyes. He saved me… Why? That was a question that still plagued Roger till this day. If Albel truly was a cold-blooded murderer like the stories said, he wouldn't have done any of those things. If he really was as cruel as the people believed, he would have already killed him right where he stood, instead of starting up a harmless conversation.
And so, decision made, Roger stepped out from behind his hiding place and approached the fallen knight.
"How didja know I was there?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"I heard you, fool."
"Woah, are ya secretly a humanoid or summin'?" And he was being awfully quiet too.
Albel gave him a look that clearly asked if he was joking. "No... but I suppose years of harsh training in adverse conditions and constantly watching your back does that to you. It makes one paranoid."
Roger cocked his head in question. "Well, why do ya need ta watch yer back all the time?"
"When you're the youngest military captain in history to grace the ranks of the second most revered brigade in all of Airyglyph, you begin to realise very quickly that the position comes with its drawbacks," he explained patiently with a wry smirk. "People would kill for this title, especially those who served the royal family for years. People older, wiser, more experienced – and I was only 21." He looked away with a derisive snort. "Sleep – actual sleep – is a luxury I can't afford."
"But ya can sleep here," Roger protested. "Well, not here exactly, but Surferio's safe and we're practically floating! No one's gonna try and kill ya… I doubt anyone can."
Albel was half-tempted to tell the Menodix that he was completely missing the point, but decided against it in favor of changing the subject. After all, there were far more pressing things to talk about, such as the child's persistent sorrow. Since their reunion by the bridge earlier that afternoon, he noticed a change in the humanoid's demeanor, a subtle shift in personality, yet appeared so glaringly obvious to his trained eye. Unlike the first time they met, Roger had lost his innocence: the curious and excitable spark in his eyes had dulled; he was less impulsive and feisty; his confidence paled in comparison to his previous spunk; and as much as it pained Albel to admit this even to himself, he actually (God forbid) missed how annoying the brat could be. Truth be told, it wasn't that drastic; but Albel noticed these things – and Roger's sudden maturity was something that called out to him louder than the sight of those dry streaks of tears on his cheeks. He came all this way from prison expecting to see that same, innocent 12-year-old with a rose and the irritating ability to chew his ear off; he wasn't prepared for this.
"You were crying," he pointed out and traced the outline of Roger's tears with a claw before he could stop himself. Fortunately, for whatever reason, the boy was too distracted by the reminder of his sadness to question the intimate quality of the usually distant and stoic swordsman's actions. "I presume that's the reason you're not celebrating that worthless festival with the others?"
"It ain't 'worthless', Albel," said Roger with a pout and mock glare, but deflated with a sigh at the man's piercing and perceptive vermilion gaze. "Yeah, kinda… but it's really his fault, that big jerk!"
Albel raised an eyebrow. "'His'? Don't tell me you're talking about that second-rate swordsman of yours."
"He ain't 'mine' either."
Albel's eyebrow rose higher if possible. Huh, with the way Leingod reacted back at the conference, he only assumed that the two were still a couple. Had that much changed in the span of a single week? Was their relationship in shambles? Interesting…
"Anyway, what about ya? Why are ya here?" Roger quickly opted for a change in subject.
"Unfortunately, I'm the King's escort," he explained with open disdain, as if the position brought him great inconvenience than honor. "This happens to be the only place where the music, laughter and the sickening sounds of merry-making are unable to reach."
"Yeesh, ya sound like old man Jack down the street… When was the last time you were happy? Would it kill ya ta have fun fer once?"
"If it's so much fun, then why are you here?" Albel countered irritably. He took it back; Roger still had the propensity to annoy the hell out of him. "Besides, worm, parties aren't my idea of fun. It's too loud, too many people, too bright, too…" he hesitated and averted his eyes with a twinge of self-loathing. "One has to keep up appearances. It's just too much."
Roger eyed him with a look of understanding. Social interaction wasn't exactly Albel's forte; the guy had lived most of his life in physical and emotional isolation following the death of his parents, people feared and found reasons to hate him, and the closest form of interaction he possibly got was with his subordinates or enemies – and the latter wasn't even social situation, especially if they mostly ended up dead. It was both elucidating and tragic: silence and solitude was all Albel ever knew; he found pleasure in the act that he associated familiarity with fun. Tentatively, Roger took a seat next to the dark, broody swordsman, but kept a respectful distance. He wasn't sure how Albel felt about physical contact, let alone how sensitive he was with another's proximity, but he wasn't going to take any chances. Then, he sought the older male's gaze with a small smile.
"Am I too loud and too much too?" he asked in a low, uncertain voice, expecting a sarcastic comment in return. Instead, Albel simply reached out with his good hand to grasp his chin with a thumb and forefinger. The touch was surprisingly soft and as the swordsman gazed deep into his eyes, Roger couldn't help but blush from the attention.
"No," Albel replied. "You're… enough."
Roger smiled and touched his hand. "Ya know, you're not as bad as ev'ryone says, or scary."
His words earned him a smirk from the ex-captain, who resisted a chuckle at the child's innocence. "Oh? Is that how you see me?"
"Sorta," Roger replied with a shrug. "Well, that's how I used ta think last time, but Nel changed that."
Albel's eyes narrowed at the sudden mention of said Aquarian. Well, that was completely unexpected. "That Aquarian wench actually had something nice to say about me? Do not jest."
"Nuh uh, she did!" He rushed to defend her, going right up to Albel's face and making him go nearly cross-eyed in the process. "Back then, I made a huge mistake that cost me my friends: my best friend almost died and it was all my fault." Recollecting said memory hurt terribly, but he pressed on in favor of getting the cynical man to understand. "That's when Nel told me about ya; not fer the things ya did, but the kind of person ya stood for. She was the one who told me about yer father and how ya managed ta rise above the ashes and became not just a master swordsman, but Captain of the Black Brigade! You're so cool!"
Albel stared at the humanoid in shock, though his face remained mostly guarded and unreadable. A warmth began to spread in his chest, humbled by the child's words and honest enthusiasm – about him no less! Granted, they were from Zelpher, but Roger called him 'cool' and the term was honestly refreshing compared to his usual title, 'wicked'. It was strange and perplexing; he didn't know what to do with these new emotions and praise, and the discomfort was probably starting to show on his face. But Roger wasn't done.
"Anyway, she used yer story as an example and told me this: there would always be an event in a person's life that would make them stronger. I didn't realise it then, but I guess I kinda looked up ta ya ever since. I… I admired ya…" At this, Roger blushed in embarrassment as his ears flattened against his head. "K-Kinda crazy, huh?"
No… quite the opposite, was what Albel had wanted to say, but the stoic swordsman settled for a simple, "Hn" instead. It didn't convey much, but the slightest quirk of his lips indicated that the Menodix's confession pleased him, though the latter couldn't put his finger on exactly why. Albel was a strange and mysterious man who didn't really talk much other than insulting anything that walked and breathed. One had to read in between the lines, as well as his facial expressions and body language in order to get even a sense of what he was thinking – and Roger really wasn't good at that. He just assumed that whatever he said was well and safe, considering there were no threats made on his life yet.
Suddenly, Albel stood up and approached the cliffside overlooking Peterny. He took in the quaint little rooftops of houses and lights with a contemplative frown. "Do you… remember when we first met?" His question was so soft, Roger would have missed it if not for his sensitive hearing.
"Um… yeah, I guess?" he answered with a slight tilt of his head. "Why?"
There was a long pause following his question and he assumed he wasn't going to get a response, until the Glyphian surprised him yet again with his honesty.
"That was the first time I remember being happy in years." He turned to watch the Menodix's expression expectantly. "That ridiculous red outfit, those overpriced roses, the way you talked to me like I was… normal. No one treated me the way you did; no one bothers to take a second look like you do. And try as I might, despite the war and my mission to capture you then, I couldn't forget you."
Roger's heart skipped a beat. "A-Albel…"
"You asked me when was the last time I felt happy," he continued with a meaningful stare. "That's my answer."
For a moment, none spoke, the weight of Albel's statement and its implications echoing in the darkness around them and in Roger's head. He wasn't that innocent – he knew when someone liked him or not and he definitely wasn't imagining the older man's feelings; he had suspected this for a while now, especially after Albel saved him from Shelby. But could he accept it? Could he accept another's devotion when he already had Fayt? Could he lean on another man when all his heart longed for was Fayt's love in return? No, the answer was no. He couldn't do this to Albel and lead the poor man on knowing his emotionally depraved past, and yet… he couldn't ignore the excitable flutter in his gut, the heat radiating off his face, and the things Albel's smoldering and determined stare was doing to him. Despite the strange and awkward situation they found themselves in, Roger realised that what Albel felt wasn't as one-sided as he believed: he couldn't forget Albel too.
"Hey, um… y-ya know, ya missed the Kingdom Dance," Roger stuttered shyly, toeing the ground and fully aware what he was getting himself into, but not at all regretful at his decision. "I-It's actually really fun! I could… ah… I could teach ya if ya want? T-Ta dance that is."
He didn't have to look in a mirror to know that his face was red, nor was he expecting any reaction from the ex-captain save a mocking bark or contemptuous sneer. However, Albel did none of those things, which greatly surprised him. Instead, the ex-captain simply folded his arms and looked uncomfortable rather than upset.
"I don't dance, fool," he half-growled, half-muttered.
Roger pouted. "Why not? It's fun!"
"I specifically remember we talked about how arbitrary 'fun' can be."
"Well, how would ya know if ya don't like it if ya haven't tried it?"
"Folk dance is for peasants."
"And you lost your status, so bite me!"
Ok, perhaps that was a little low, even from him. But Albel was being difficult and frustrating and dare he say it, maybe a little childish. Meanwhile, Albel continued to stare at the gutsy Menodix in utter shock. Did the brat just dis him? Normally, such a move would have made him absolutely livid and the boy would most likely be dead, but this was Roger – the brat had the right to be extremely foolish, obnoxious and annoying; it made him strangely endearing in a fiesty sort of way. But Albel had his pride and dignity, so his answer was still n–
"Come on, ya big baby! Even Fayt and that big lummox did it. And ya call yourself a real man?"
"Fine."
And with a growl and dramatic swish of his long hair, he approached the humanoid child and stopped to stand in front of him patiently. Woah. Roger's eyes had gone impossibly wide, while Albel's rolled in annoyance.
"If it would shut you up, lets get this over with," he grumbled, but the frown on his face betrayed the smile in his eyes. Roger immediately scrambled to stand atop the tree stump and faced his unlikely dance partner.
"O-Ok! It's really easy – just follow my lead! When I clap ta my right, ya clap ta yer right. Then when I bring my right leg across ta kick out, ya bring yer right leg across ta kick out. Basically, just parallel me. We'll go slow… 5, 6, 7, 8!"
What started out clumsy at first, quickly progressed into something more intuitive. Like his skills in battle, Albel was a fast learner and the moment he managed to get over his own embarrassment, the man's performance turned exceptional. Roger figured that his agility in combat earned him his natural flair and grace. From an outsider's perspective, the sight couldn't look more ridiculous: a tall grown man learning the steps of a traditional folk dance from a humanoid child, who stood a mere quarter his size. Granted, the tree stump gave Roger some elevation, but he still only managed to reach Albel's chest and had to keep his head inclined in order to maintain eye contact.
As they danced, Roger unconsciously began to hum the tune of the song his mother sang back at the Plaza. The musical accompaniment helped: Roger performed the steps to the correct beat and timing, and Albel followed through them effortlessly. They spun around in perfect unison, clapped, then held hands as they moved left and then right. The steps eventually repeated themselves; Roger no longer need to keep time; and they performed the dance routine with the Menodix progressing from humming to actual singing. From the wide grin on his face, it was evident the child was having fun and Albel couldn't stop the slight upward twitch of his lips from the knowledge that he was the one responsible for the boy's happiness, not Leingod.
Suddenly, Roger felt a pair of hands wrap firmly around his waist and gasped when he was lifted into the air in a final twirl and dip. Pulling him back up, Albel held onto the child possessively; chest to chest and nose to nose; as if cradling a precious babe. The pair panted from exhilaration as they slowly came down from their high, breaths mingling in the tiny space between. As vermillion and brown locked gazes in an intimate display, Roger gulped and mentally cursed his traitorous tail for wagging excitedly from the attention. Obviously, Albel noticed that and the smirk on his face only widened.
"W-Where… didja learn how ta do that?" asked Roger breathlessly, impressed and flustered all at once.
"I saw that blonde buffoon do this with that Aquarian wench," Albel replied, before his confidence slipped and he hesitated. "Am I… is this… is this appropriate?"
Roger had never heard the older man stutter before. In fact, he was so surprised, he had forgotten how to laugh. Would today's wonders never cease? He was beginning to wonder if Albel had always secretly hid this aspect of his personality from others, or it emerged just because he was here. It was actually quite cute, though he had a feeling the Glyphian would press his blade to his throat if he so much as said that. After all, real men weren't supposed to be cute.
"Um… y-yeah…" he trailed off with a blush, momentarily avoiding Albel's piercing stare, until realization dawned on him. "Wait a sec, ya were there?!"
The swordsman resisted a smirk. "For a little while. I was watching you. You played well."
"Oh, thanks."
Honestly, he didn't know what to say, much less how to feel. On one hand, he knew he liked Fayt, though the latter made him miserable; on the other hand, he never wanted Albel's attentions, but he felt contented around him. He was so confused.
And so, in order to alleviate the anxiety and silence, he reached around Albel's neck to tug at his hair. Hard.
"Argh, worm!"
By gods, that hurt like hell!
"That's fer callin' Nel a bad name, ya jerk!" Roger admonished and stuck out his tongue playfully.
Albel grumbled beneath his breath and was about to shoot the brat the nastiest death glare he could muster, but paused when Roger leaned against his chest in a shy yet affectionate embrace. The Menodix's ears twitched, tickling the exposed skin of his collar, a content smile on his face. Albel stared at the boy in his arms silently, deliberating his situation and the thoughts running through his head. If someone told him 4 years ago that he would develop feelings for a humanoid boy, much less care for another, he would have laughed in their face and then laugh at their grave. But this was the truth now and if he dared to be honest with himself, this was a happy problem he did not mind burdening.
"And what about this?" he asked softly, surprising himself with how gentle he sounded.
"This?" Roger looked up and met his gaze. "This is fer bein' a friend. Thanks, Albel. Thanks fer not pushin' me away."
Albel's grip around the Menodix tightened protectively.
"... You're welcome."
To be continued...
Author's note:
If anyone's curious, the song is 'Turn Loose the Mermaids' by Nightwish. Go give it a listen, it's beautiful and sets the mood for the chapter's scene perfectly.
Looks like things are (finally) starting to heat up between Albel and Roger ;) Sorry for making Fayt such a fickle-minded jerk, but throwing a monkey wrench into the works needed to happen eventually, and what better way to put his loyalty and love to the test than Maria herself? And why Maria? Because I always felt she obviously had a thing for Fayt in both the game and manga anyway, so why not right? Anyway, our boys are in a very confused place at the moment... except maybe Albel, who (surprisingly) seems to be the only character who knows what he wants from the start and is consistent about it lol.
As always, please fav/follow and leave a review if you like my story! Until next time!