Back for more, are you? Well here you have it. I.U. and its characters aren't mine, but I hope you'll like my manipulations anyway. Maybe someday I'll complete a novel with characters of my own that will have people screaming for more, too.
Chapter 6: For A Tomorrow I'll Never See
Before he even opened his eyes, Capell was aware that the dull ache in his shoulder was gone. For the first time since his fight with Sigmund he was completely pain free. With cautious fingers that had been freed of their gauntlets, he reached up and felt fresh, heavy dressings at his shoulder. He obviously was not healed yet, so how could the pain be gone?
"Capell?" The second Liberator opened his eyes to find the former looking down at him from his place at his son's shoulder. They were surrounded by smooth stone walls of blue-grey and windows, from which he could see snow falling outside, despite the strange sky beyond the city. They had reached the false Castle Kolton, it seemed. But he couldn't remember coming here. He couldn't remember anything after... it blurred towards the end of his memories of their time in Vesplume Tower. Gabriel had been within arm's reach of him right? Had Capell been attacked? Who had saved him?
What happened?
"Have we been here long?" The question was not the most important, but it was the first one his mind could put into words. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, Sigmund reaching out to slow his rise and help him all at once.
"No," he replied, "and you must be careful. Kiriya may have driven off the pain and the imminent danger, but he could not heal you fully. You must take care not to reopen the wound. He used a great deal of our healing supplies to bring you back."
To what? Capell's mind stumbled over what Sigmund had just said. All of the other questions in his mind were silenced for an instant.
"Bring me back?" It was all he could do to whisper the question, putting a voice to it was impossible.
"Indeed," Sigmund replied slowly, a shadow of emotion blanketing his face, "for all of his faults, Kiriya's skills are incomparable. Short of Savio, I do not believe anyone else could have done what he did for you."
Capell only nodded, he couldn't find words for a response. What could he say? He had almost died. Maybe for a time he had died – Sigmund did say that Kiriya had brought him back. Back from the brink, or back from death? Capell didn't want to know. Suddenly all of those questions about how the fight had ended seemed dangerous.
"How's Edward?" Capell was eager to change the subject and the site of his friends sleeping beside a small cook fire gave him something new and valid to think about.
"Fine." His father confirmed. "He was able to walk through the gate of his own accord. Michelle said the wound was shallow – Edward was so close to Gabrielle that the force of Noble Play must have pushed him back before the blade actually struck him. He was only stunned by his fall for a moment. It seems Gabrielle's strength did more to save Edward than it did to harm him."
"And Dominica?"
"Everyone is fine, Capell." Sigmund said gravely. "Yours was the only serious injury." His face hardened. "You acted without thought. You allowed your emotion to cloud your actions, and for it you nearly earned a fresh grave. You swore a promise to me, and in your lapse of self control in the fight with Gabrielle you nearly broke it."
It wasn't the first time he'd ever been scolded for being thoughtless, but somehow it hurt more than any other time. "I'm sorry."
"Apologies will not save you if you act so carelessly again, and neither will Kiriya. We have not the supplies to do what he did twice. You must be able to hold onto reason during the fight. You were fortunate this time – I do not know where you summoned the strength to slay Gabriel but-"
Capell's eyes bulged. What?
"I killed him?"
Sigmund paused and watched his son for a moment. "You do not remember?" When Capell shook his head, Sigmund sighed. "Then you were in worse condition than we had feared. Yes, you brought the demon to his end. With the injuries you sustained it should not have been possible; most men will never possess the amount of luck in their life that you had at that moment. You must control yourself in battle, no matter what tactic the enemy uses against you."
"Could you have done any better?" Capell blurted. It was half accusation and half earnest question. Capell suspected Sigmund's answer would be yes. "If Gabrielle looked exactly like my mother let's say, would you have acted any different?" The cool stare from those red eyes didn't change as Capell waited for his answer.
"I do not know," Sigmund admitted at last and to Capell's surprise. "Perhaps; perhaps not. But as the situation currently pertains to you, it is you who must remember something: a man's valor is a powerful thing. It can save those he loves – but it can also kill the man if it overpowers him." Sigmund glanced away to the fire for a moment and when his gaze came back his expression was composed once more. "Fight for those you can protect; to fight for those you have already lost is a wasted effort and a waste of a good life."
Capell stared blankly through the wall beyond his father. What his father said had made sense, even though it hurt. It hurt because it only compounded his failure. "It was my fault they died," he admitted at last, "Faina and Leif. They died because I couldn't protect them."
Sigmund seemed taken aback for a moment. Capell didn't say anything. It didn't really matter if he agreed or not – Sigmund's opinion couldn't change the past, after all.
"If that is the case," Sigmund said in a quieter tone, "then you and I are responsible for the deaths of thousands. Perhaps more. Every man, woman and child that died as a result of the Order's chains is on our heads." Capell blinked and met his father's gaze with quiet surprise. "We are the Liberators of the world," Sigmund continued, "and we failed every person who died or underwent vermification. If you will bear responsibility for the deaths of the boy and his sister, you must also be willing to accept the weight for the deaths of all of those whose names and faces you do not know. You must also be able to hold me accountable my failures as a protector, which preceded yours."
Capell opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came out.
Luckily, Sigmund did not wait for the answer.
"You cannot be blamed for their deaths, Capell. You are only one man, as am I. We cannot be everywhere at once. The blame falls on those whose blades delivered the death blows, and on those whose actions brought about such devastation. That Leif and Faina were your friends adds nothing to the guilt on your shoulders; only the pain in your heart."
It made sense. Maybe in another life Capell could have believed his father.
"So now we have even more in common than we thought," He said after a moment. "We've each been told that we are guilt free; that we're good men who did the best we could. But you and I will never stop punishing ourselves for the deaths we have been told were not our faults. My mother's death will haunt you for the rest of your life, just like Faina's and Leif's will haunt me for the rest of mine."
He watched Sigmund swallow hard, though his father's expression remained unruffled.
"We will carry on this conversation later," the elder replied at last, "rest for now. The road ahead is still a long one."
XXXX
By their sleep schedules and the meals they had taken, Capell guessed their time within the makeshift sanctuary to be two days. Two days for the queen to draw closer to them. Two days for more of the beasts to escape the Gate and invade their home.
The pain in his shoulder was still missing, but he couldn't imagine the effect as permanent. If he was going to fight to the best of his ability then it would have to be soon – before the symptoms of his injuries came back and made movement all but impossible.
His friends were gathered around the fire, talking quietly in an effort to lighten the mood. Capell rose from his place and left the circle, retrieving his armor from the steps that lead up to the throne room. Heads swiveled to watch as he began pulling on piece after piece of the raiment. He heard Aya's deep breath and the scrape of metal against stone. Balbagon stood and hefted his axe onto his shoulder once more.
"We're goin' boss?" The gruff man's voice seemed as out of place as laughter in a tomb. Capell nodded.
"We came here for a reason. We can't sit here hiding from reality anymore."
"Who said anything about hiding?" Aya bristled. "I thought we were waiting until you were healed."
Capell met her stare. "We all know that we can't wait that long." Aya's face twisted but before she could launch into an argument Capell cut her off. "How many days will it take for me to recover completely, Kiriya?" Capell asked as he reached behind his neck to fasten another buckle. "Honestly."
"Days?" Kiriya shook his head. "To completely mend from that wound you will need at least three weeks. Three weeks of minimal movement; the more you use your shoulder, the longer it will take. To fight again at full strength without danger? No less than two months."
"Time we don't have." Capell said.
"What are his limitations currently?" Sigmund addressed the healer next without taking his eyes from his son. "I am assuming it is not safe for him to wield a sword."
"Oh I'm sure he thinks he can." Dominica broke in caustically. "And maybe he'll be able to land a couple of powerful blows before he tears open his shoulder again and bleeds to death."
"Then let's quit now." Capell barked loudly and gestured to the way they had come. "Let's leave and go back home. I'm sure the queen will wait a few months for me to recover before she comes for us. And the armies of Kolton have done a great job killing off monsters on their own without many casualties. They'll have no problem when two or three monsters in the city become two or three hundred. Right? Right?!"
His derision was answered only by stunned faces and silence.
"Don't you think I know the danger of fighting like this?" Capell's voice rose frantically, waving his hand before his injured shoulder wildly. "Don't you think that I'm aware of what will probably happen? But tell me what other option we have. Should I leave and let you handle it without me? When you admitted to me yourselves that you couldn't even defeat Sigmund without me?! Tell me what we can do to avoid this – because I really don't want to die here!"
Capell clamped his mouth shut and drew a hand down his face in an effort to regain his composure. He could feel his eyes burning and he didn't want to cry in front of everyone. Not anymore.
He was the Liberator. He was more than a symbol to the people, and though he had stolen the title from his father at first, he had quickly earned the right to bear it as his own. He had spilled enough blood, both his and the enemy's, to prove that being the Liberator was more than being a figurehead. It meant taking action where others would not or could not.
He had also been born with his father's strength and glyphless – a combination that had made him the perfect weapon to fight the Order and their chains. The world had even given him another title to reflect this.
He was the Blade of the Unblessed.
And now that Veros and the Lunaglyphs were gone, everyone was an Unblessed.
And that meant he would fight to protect everyone. And he would do it without tears; because that's what heroes did.
But that didn't mean he couldn't ache for the future he was probably letting go of. Marriage, a family, plans to restore his homeland. It wasn't fair that he was probably going to have to trade away a life he desperately wanted in order to do what was right.
Just as his father had done before him.
"I didn't mean any insult," Capell said after a few deep breaths, "there's a reason we're called the Liberation Force. Every person here is a powerful fighter – much stronger than the average soldier. But you told me in Burgusstadt that you, the most renowned warriors in the world, couldn't defeat Sigmund without me. And Sigmund was no match for the Ethereal Queen on his own. I understand the dangers in facing the queen the way I am, but what choice do we have? I don't know how I became the strongest of our group – but if any of you were in my position would you just walk away?"
"Of course we wouldn't." Kiriya scoffed and folded his arms across his chest, casting a cool look over his shoulder at the other. "They know it as well as you do. The only difference is they-" he waived an arrogant hand towards those still standing around the fire, "saw you die once already. They don't have the stomach for it again."
"Yer damn right we don't!" Vic's face stained scarlet and twisted in anger, "And if ya can look at my buddy and tell him it's okay for him to go and fight and probably die again, then yer as much of a monster as the things we've been killing!"
"Vic!" Capell felt vertigo slide through his head briefly. He had died. Really died; it hadn't just been a close call. "Enough arguing. There's no point. I'm going on because I have to; because everyone knows it's the only way. Why else would I have been given so many potions that I can't feel any pain – I haven't since I woke up." Aya flinched as though she'd been slapped; Capell guessed she had played a part in that. "This was always optional for the rest of you – if you want to walk away now you can. You helped get us this far, and that's good enough for me."
"What do you mean 'optional'?" Edward stepped forward, his dark eyes flashing. "Don't tell me you think that we can just walk away from this and from you. You don't really believe any of us would just abandon you like that? Do you? You're our leader."
"We follow you, Capell," Eugene added, "we always will."
"I told you I'd fight for you," Aya said softly, "and I meant it. I won't let you die." Her voice trailed to a whisper with her final statement, but Capell could see that she meant it.
"None of us will." Edward agreed in a much more confident voice.
"Then no more arguing?" Capell raked his gaze over the group of people he cared most for in the world. "No more telling me not to go on?" Dominica was the first to sigh and give a curt nod of her head. Balbagon grunted and the rest followed suit, until the only one who had not agreed to Capell's conditions was his father. Capell clapped a hand onto Sigmund's shoulder, looking him evenly in the eyes.
"I know the only reason you're not agreeing is because I'm your son." Capell said. "I thought about what you said earlier, that we're only singular men. You're right, there's only so much we can do. But shouldn't we do all we can to save our home? You once believed that when you held the title of Liberator. Believe it again with me. Believe in me."
Sigmund pulled from his son's grip and walked from the group, stopping just a few steps away. Capell watched his father's back for a second before tightening his jaw and turning to the teleporter that would take them to Graad Woods.
"I have always believed in you," Sigmund said quietly and Capell twisted to find his father still had his back to them. "Even when I could not believe in myself, from the moment you were born, I have believed in you."
'This boy shall be courageous and kind. He will be called Capell.'
Capell remembered Iskan's confession in the Underwater Palace. The truth of Sigmund's words had been embroidered on a swaddling cloth twenty years ago.
"You knew when I was born who I would be. And so you know now that I can't walk away."
Sigmund's shoulders hunched slightly, his head dipped. From the corner of his eyes, Capell notice Edward and Aya each take a step back. Sigmund had never exhibited such a vulnerable emotion before. It was hard for them to watch.
"I do." His father's voice was unbroken, but softer.
Capell walked to his father's back slowly and placed a gentle hand once more on his father's shoulder.
"Come with me, father?"
The former king's posture straightened and his head rose high once more. With the brisk air of someone in complete control of himself, Sigmund turned and faced his son, an iron grip finding Capell's good arm. The faintest hint of emotion clouded those crimson irises, but it was covered by steel resolve instantly.
"To the end and beyond, my son."
XXXX
Though none had asked him, or even hinted to him the idea, Capell hung back through Graad Woods to conserve his strength and save his friends some anxiety, letting the others slay the snarling monsters that emerged from the normally bright and pleasant forest. His sword remained sheathed; though his fingers twitched at the hilt whenever there were enemies to take down. He physically felt great, better than he had in weeks, but it was only because of Kiriya's potion. Capell knew that he'd probably never been in worse shape than he was now.
A group of larva were swarming Eugene. The former priest's nimble movements pulverized each creature with a disgusting noise beneath his staff. The quiet man's mouth twisted and he wiped the end of his weapon through the longer grass to clean it of the foul liquid that coated the metal tipped ends.
Aya's arrows whistled ahead and something howled. A garm charged out of the trees, an arrow lodged in his right eye socket. Four more arrows and the canine fell to the ground before it reached Balbagon at the fore. The great man looked slightly disappointed at the lack of combat.
Though they carried themselves confidently, it was easy to feel the tension in the air. Eyes were brighter and more alert; weapons rarely found their way back into sheaths. The randomly attacking creatures were dispatched quickly to avoid distraction. The other members of the Force had the same thought bouncing within their heads, it seemed. With every corner they rounded, every new level they entered, Capell found himself holding his breath for that first heartbeat.
Would the queen be there? Had she come for them like Gabriel had? He had nearly jumped out of his skin and then melted with relief when the thing in Dragonbone Shrine turned out to be only a powerful creature and not the false god. It had taken every bit of restraint he had possessed to hang back and not join in that battle. He had to remind himself that his strength was borrowed, and he needed every bit of it to use against the queen. Not this Seaspawn.
He began to wonder what surprise she had in store for them. Gabriel had taken on Leif's form to throw them off. What would the queen do to gain an advantage?
Or maybe she wouldn't even bother. Maybe she was so far beyond them that tricks wouldn't even be needed. Capell shook the thought from his head physically. Thinking like that was close to giving up, and he couldn't do that.
The teleporter that at last took them to the False Halgita dimmed and Capell found that his flute was called for even if his sword was not. The distraction from his dark thoughts was welcomed even if it was dangerous.
The cloned Order sorceresses were calling forth Geocrush at a staggering rate, more than any true human could have summoned forth. Prudentiae was needed to constantly negate the effect. The spells would dissipate within the range of the flute's music and it was within that circle that his teammates stayed and fought – it would have been suicide to move beyond Capell's song.
They followed the stairs slowly, though the corridors were wide by any building's standards, they were still too narrow to avoid combat. There was no conserving energy here. The whistle and whine of metal and wood speeding through the warm air made it hard to hear the flute. But it didn't matter if the song could be heard – as long as he played they were safe from the bone crushing conjurations.
A forest rachnuvus snapped deadly mandibles and Capell sidestepped, narrowly avoiding losing a leg. A great sword hummed and Edward's blade decapitated the spider in one blow.
"Are you all right?" Edward paused to look his friend over; Capell dared not pull the instrument from his lips to answer. The Burguss King found his answer on his own, though. Patting the Cassandran King on the arm, he returned to the fight.
"Don't worry, Capell," Rico chimed up from behind Capell, "we're here now. We'll cover your back." Capell turned his head to peer at the eager twins who had moved in close to him and gave them a friendly wink. Rucha's Aerry swooped low at a sorceress just beyond Capell's protection while Rico turned an arachnid against a drogo chief, grinning at the experience of controlling the big bug.
At the base of the stairs in the large open area stood the most imposing gigas Capell had ever laid eyes on, flanked by two narbears that looked almost rabid. Lowering his flute, Capell caught the attention of the others and motioned them away from the menacing trio. The beasts didn't seem to have noticed them and, as long as they weren't obvious, Capell was confident they could slip away unseen.
At last, a major fight that could be avoided.
The doors to the former chapel swung open and Capell groaned at their bad luck.
A man wielding a sword more massive than Dominica or Edward stood waiting patiently. His uniform bespoke a high ranking member of the Order, but Capell didn't remember fighting this person previously.
"Grymon," Sigmund said with slight surprise.
"You know him?" Capell's fingers pressed tightly to his sword, ready to pull the blade free as the waiting man eyed them like a predator.
"A former night of Cassandra," his father revealed, "one of the youngest, and the most eager." Sigmund's tone took on a hint of disgust. "I must admit, it does not surprise me to see him here. I never approved of his promotion within the ranks. He was clearly interested only in his own success and not that of the kingdom. That he came with Iskan's recommendation was the only reason he was allowed such a position."
"Not much of a selling point in my opinion," Capell muttered and jolted when Simorgh Zal exploded above Grymon, Aya pulling no punches with this knight.
"This fight is not for you," Sigmund said softly to his son, raising his sword behind him, "yours waits beyond that teleporter." The stone pedestal behind their enemy was cold and dark, but Capell knew that was the way as much as Sigmund did. "Wait for us, Capell." Sigmund cautioned before he rushed forward, Reginleif answering his command.
Capell swore softly under his breath and pulled out his flute to offer what help he was able. Dominica and Balbagon had rounded to Grymon's back and Komachi was now standing pointedly between Capell and the battle, Hornbeam giving only a moment's notice for her comrades to move aside before it struck the knight forcibly. The Order knight's blade deflected the attack, and within the same fluid movement Grymon was raising the massive weapon up as though it were a twig, swinging it before him, intent in cleaving a path through his enemies. The Force bowed back out of range and filled the gap like water in a bowl, surrounding the man, pinning the turncoat with attacks that varied in power in technique.
Capell heard the commotion of an attack he didn't recognize. A blast of energy, so powerful it was clearly visible, opened a corridor among his friends wide enough for a gigas. Vic rolled clear of the attack before launching back in with a guttural growl. Balbagon's elbow and hip were bleeding, but the man lifted his great axe and rejoined his friends without pause.
The knight wasn't using magic; Capell's protection was useless here. He could either strengthen his friends' defense or attacks, but at the expense of the other. The sword seemed to grow heavier and heavier at his hip; a burden that only fighting would free him from. He swallowed hard and ground his teeth. If watching them fight smaller beasts had been hard, watching them face a knight without him was torture.
But this time he had been asked not to fight. Sigmund had told him to wait behind. And he knew that his father was right. His fight lay ahead with the enemy they couldn't fight alone.
Dragonic Hail was followed by a cry from the knight and Capell felt his heart surge when he saw blood began to seep down Grymon's forehead from his scalp. Though his friends were taking on fresh injuries they were still winning. The Order knight spun free of Balbagon's swing, his sword clashing against Eugene's staff, disarming the priest with a twist of the blade.
The traitor's raptor gaze found Capell and Grymon's face split into a malicious grin.
"Liberator," he grated and Capell's hand fell to the Emblazoned Sword as Grymon cleared a path through his friends once more with Heraldic Edge and then followed it to his quarry. Capell wrist and elbow flicked, drawing the Emblazoned Sword free in a flash of reflected light.
And then he was bodily pulled from Grymon's path at the last moment, and mixed into a confused tangle with another. In the flurry of motion he caught sight of his rescuer, Sigmund, who was jerking the ornate circlet from his head and pulled Capell's flute from his belt.
Alucinari answered Sigmund as certainly as it would have Capell and three identical men now stood before the knight, swords drawn and waiting.
"Which one is the bomb?!" Vic's cry brought a wide-eyed reaction from Grymon, who hesitated in his offense suddenly aware of the true danger he faced. Capell couldn't tell which of the two beside him was his father but knew that if he ran for cover it would give him away immediately. It would also leave Sigmund alone with the weapon he had summoned, but did not know well enough to escape on his own. Sigmund would certainly try to stand his ground to maintain the ruse that shielded Capell until the explosive doppelganger killed him.
Capell would not let that happen.
"My Lords, please get away!" Komachi's fist was at her chest, but the three men stood their ground, watching the knight. More cries of alarm, rose from their friends, each bringing a nervous reaction from their enemy. Yet none of the Liberators moved. The clone would not focus on anything but the enemy as that was its purpose; Capell knew that he and Sigmund had to play their parts as well. Grymon studied them for the instant they watched him, seeming to try to judge which of the three men was actually the weapon called forth against him. His eyes ticked from face to face, searching. Blood trickled down the bridge of his nose.
Not much longer…
"Capell!" Aya cried in panic and was only kept back by Dominica's grasp on her arm, though the Emir fought to free herself. She cried out his name again, twisting her arm against Dominica, trying to get to Capell, though she clearly had no idea which man was her beloved.
Capell ignored her with difficulty and counted down the time he knew they had left. The fuse for the bomb was always the same, and Capell knew how much time they had by heart now. Grymon's sword seemed to swing in slow motion, the knight having obviously decided on his next course of action.
The man directly beside Capell moved at the same instant Capell lurched forward – the precise moment the bomb would move in for its final attack. The third, Sigmund, followed suit so closely that only the one person who knew the precise timing of Alucinari noticed. Capell found his father if no one else had.
The three Liberators charged for Grymon simultaneously, swords all lifted in identical fighting stances. The great sword wielded by their enemy sped around; readying his attack and the knight took his first running step forward.
"Get back!" Edward bellowed and with a wide sweep of his arm he hefted Michelle onto his shoulder and ran. The Force dispersed, not sparing a backward glance at the battlefield.
"NOW!" Capell screamed and watched as his father threw himself aside; as the clone that had run beside him pitched itself at the knight. Capell turned in his flat-out run so sharply that his feet slid out from beneath him. When he hit the floor Capell flung himself into a barrel roll away from what he knew was coming. Heat and pressure followed him; though he was not aware of the sound of the explosion, only the blood pounding in his ears. He found himself pushed along not of his own momentum but rolled like a ball by the force of the blast that followed him. He tucked himself in as tightly as he could, protecting his damaged shoulder with his good arm. Heat tightened his skin.
And just as quickly the force of the blast died away. The air around him cooled and he slid to a stop, his armor squealing along the stone floor. Capell raised his head to the direction he had come from. Pyrool fell upon Grymon before the smoke had even cleared, driven on by its mistress's previous intent. The knight's screams were followed by Aya's as she released Simorgh Zal once more. There would be no mercy; no hesitating.
And then there was silence.
Capell lay where he had landed and watched, waiting for the knight to rise to his feet. Waiting for the fight to resume.
But nothing happened.
He groaned and let his head fall down onto his forearm, relief washing over him.
"Capell!?" The alarm in Edward's voice was clear and the Liberator raised his good arm.
"I'm all right." He called and pushed himself to his feet, pulling aside his armor and peering into the crevices to make sure he wasn't wrong. He still couldn't feel pain so he had to look to be certain. No blood, no burns. A few dents in his armor, but other than that he was okay. He sighed with relief – thanking the luck that he should have run out of for staying with him just a little longer.
His eyes darted across the room to find Sigmund was on his feet as well, sheathing his sword. Capell wiped a hand down his face and walked slowly over to his father. The floor was blackened through the blast zone, and Capell kept his eyes averted from the body of the fallen knight as he passed.
"Forgive me," Sigmund said, bending low to retrieve the instrument and sword for his son, "he fixated on you-"
"Stop," Capell held up a hand, closing his eyes wearily, "apologizing. You're beginning to sound like me. I'm not mad. It was a good plan. Crazy and slightly stupid, but a good plan."
Sigmund cocked an eyebrow. "Stupid?" It sounded like a dare and Capell smiled despite his nerves, even if it was only half hearted.
"Yes, stupid – just like something I would do. Did I inherit anything from my mother?" Sigmund grunted, but behind the mask Capell knew he could see amusement. The reaction goaded the younger man on.
"You know," he whispered, "someday you're going to have to loosen up a little. Grandkids don't like to bounce on the knees of grouchy old men." Sigmund's eyes flashed brightly, though his facade remained.
"If you promise to give me grandchildren," Sigmund said quietly, "I will promise to… loosen up." Capell felt the noose tighten and he succeeded in keeping his eyes from flicking to the teleporter. He regretted his words if only because they hinted at a future he couldn't guarantee.
More than anything he wanted to say those two words. More than anything he wanted to say it and mean it. Why did he have to disappoint the ones he loved again?
"When this is over," he said at last. The stone returned to his father's eyes and Capell felt his heart sink. Sigmund pressed the Emblazoned Sword into Capell's hands.
"Then let us finish it."
XXXX
A palace unlike any he had seen before, Sigmund had said.
But Capell knew this place; he knew it better than any place in their world. He could tell you how many stones blocks made up the walls in the main entryway, how many steps it took to walk from the throne room to the teleporter, and where to find those strange little mice the fastest. His stomach flipped and his throat tightened as though he were about to be sick.
"The Lunar Palace," he murmured. His prison for two years. It even smelled the same here – he would never forget the sterile, metallic scent of this place. More beautiful than any building man could build; but colder than the meanest prison. Capell shivered.
"She would choose this place." He muttered and swallowed the lump in his throat. Aya was beside him, her fingers twining with his, nearly cutting the circulation off in his fingers for how tightly she held on. Seeing this place clearly brought back unpleasant memories for her, too. Capell squeezed her hand reassuringly before releasing it to draw his sword. The ring of steel echoed just as he remembered within these walls. If it weren't for the strange bands of colored light hanging in the sky, Capell might have thought they had actually returned to the moon.
"There's no sense in waiting." He said quickly. He could feel something of his old life returning; the desire to run far and fast and not look back. It was seeping into him, making his legs tingle. Here was more than a hated prison for him – it could also be the last place he ever sets eyes on. He didn't want to die here. He didn't want this to be where he took his final breath.
Anywhere but here.
Against every instinct and desire within him, Capell stepped further into the palace.
"Let's get this over with."
XXXX
A/N
Don't you love it when an idea just clicks in your head. I was trying and trying for waaay too long to get the plot for this chapter down when I realized yesterday (finally) that the entire chapter I had down was trash! So I scrapped it and sat here staring at a blank page on my computer screen as it SCREAMED at me to put words on it. Then it hit me – thwap! I'm pleased with how it went and pleased with the fact that I came out of my slump again. I waited one more day to proof read and make sure I liked it enough before posting it. Sorry for the delay!
Syeriox, Imortal and Adolthered – thank you for the raves! Sometimes the old writing engine just needs a kick-start and you gave that to me with your kind words. When I know people really like what they're reading it reminds me why I'm wracking my brain.
Thanks everyone!