"Well?" Flynn repeated, staring at the girl. She insistently avoided his gaze, twirling the crest she wore curled around her finger, a makeshift ring. It twisted around the entire length of her index finger, a small silver hinge attached at her joints to provide movement for the digit.
"There is this... one woman," she finished lamely, bigger fish flimsily veiled behind glassy eyes.
Flynn could feel irritation rising. "And?" He pressed, harsher in reality than what rang through in his head.
"If I'm right about this, then you already know her," Rosella muttered, clenching her fist.
"Tell me who she is!" Flynn shouted, his hand hovering over his sword. When had his temper gotten so short? Was it the long, grinding hours as commandant, or was it... indecent feelings for his best friend? No, no, it couldn't be that. They didn't exist... right?
In an instant, her sword was halfway out of its holder. "Meg Williams," she growled, muscles tensed.
Flynn forced his hand down from the heavily worn hilt of his sword. "That name..." He trailed off, going deep into the recesses of his mind.
"Sir Flynn?" Flynn looked up as the greying council member strode into his room.
"Yes, Sir Williams?"
The imposing man came to a slow halt in front of the young commandant's desk, his richly ringed hand resting heavily on the mahogany desk. A long sheaf of paper floated down from the elderly hand to land gently in front of the blonde.
"Sign here," Willams pointed to a long black line at the bottom of the page. At the moment, the only work Flynn was up to was taking a nice long nap, and the only thing stopping him from quickly excusing himself from the room or physically grabbing the wretched man by the pants and throwing him out the window was his rather overwhelming sense of duty. Or perhaps it was that nagging feeling in back of his mind telling him that throwing a council member out a five story high window was a bad idea. Either way, Flynn reluctantly picked up his fountain pen for what seemed to be the billionth time that day and hastily scrawled his signature on the expensive parchment.
"Both Meg and I thank you, Sir Flynn," were Williams only words before sweeping out of the room.
"The paper about..." Flynn pause. "About..." His blood froze as he turned to Rosella. "I have no idea what I signed."
The girl fixed him up with a rather confused gaze, the kind one usually reserves for the crazy old man sitting on the corner talking to himself. Or perhaps Raven when he's peeping through the partition in the hot springs.
"I apologize. Let me explain," Flynn motioned for her to sit as they crossed the room to the ornate iron garden chairs, painfully conspicuous on the grassy plain made of paint. The Rhygbaro, he noted, were still watching them with silent, measured eyes.
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"I knew it," Rosella muttered. "I knew it. I knew it. I knew it! I knew that slut was connected to the empire!"
"Don't use such crass language," Flynn sighed, massaging his forehead. What a mess. What was a councilor's... wife? Daughter? Whatever she was, what was she doing here?
Rosella glared at him with the patented look one gives to a particularly dense person. "Don't you have more important things to worry about right now? Like what the hell you signed?"
"Please, don't--" There was that glare again. "But--"
"Shut up!" Rosella's eyes flashed dangerously as she flew out of her chair. She sucked in a heavy breath. "I'm going to tell Yuri."
"No!" Flynn grabbed her arm tugging her sharply away from the door. "We don't know what the paper is! Miss Williams may be innocent!"
He barely had time to bring his sword up as the thin blade came crashing down on his. Without warning, the girl twisted, bringing her foot up to smash into his side. Flynn tensed for the blow, steeling his body. Seconds passed before he realized he wasn't going to be hit, minutes before it registered that the pressure on his sword was gradually decreasing.
"Er," Rosella grunted, more of a grumble than an apology as she clipped her sword back to her hip. "It's just... force of habit."
Before he could press what kind of life would force that kind of habit, she was already at the door.
"Sorry, Barbie, but this is too important to let slide. Even if she is your councilor's..." she shook her head. "Whatever she is." The door slid open with a small squeak as she eased it open, her slight figure sliding out of the grassy plain.
"Wait!" Flynn yelled, throwing the door open. "Stop!"
It all happened just like how the knights were taught to do when a prisoner was escaping. Only this time, it wasn't a textbook or a training field. Two doors flew open, two figures charging out of them, one a glowing fireball, the other a girl, steel in hand. Rosella tensed like a spring, a flick of the wrist sending a knife flying at Sodia.
The blade sank hungrily into the knight's shoulder, yet she carried on, slashing harshly at the younger girl, who had barely dodged the fireball by dropping to the ground, leaving her back wide open. A thick scarlet slash smiled from her back as Rosella suddenly twisted, using her arm as a pivot and simultaneously throwing her legs into the air, flying at the knight's head.
With a grunt, she flung her legs out, hitting her target literally head-on. With a ear-shattering impact, Sodia crashed into the nearby wall with a sickening crunch, driving the thin knife further into her body.
"Cease fire!" Flynn yelled as Witcher began preparing another spell. The surprised boy dispelled his spelling circle, the purple glow fading into the carpet.
"S-sir?" He stuttered, his hands protectively in front of his face, as if to guard his eyes from the staggering, bleeding guild member before him.
"Dammit!" Flynn ran over to Sodia, a green glow already surrounding his hands as he knelt down. "I didn't mean to stop her with force!"
"H-hey, no need to use such crass language," he looked up to see Rosella standing, or rather, limping, over him, holding herself up with her bloodied sword. A victorious grin was slathered on her face, cutting through the obvious pain she was feeling.
"I... urgh," she trailed off as she quietly vomited a steady stream of blood onto his lap. Quite louder was the sound of Witcher gagging in the background.
"Heh," she coughed, wiping her mouth on her bare forearm. "Serves you right, Barbie." Seating herself with another sputter of blood, she gingerly laid down.
"If I don't wake up, I'll haunt you for eternity," she lazily informed the commandant as she closed her eyes. A few moments later soft snores filled the room. Biting his lip, Flynn refocused on the task at hand -- his second command with only hours left, if he didn't do something fast. Rosella had inflicted more damage than what met the eye with her knife, the silver blade lodged just between the sternum and the top of the humerus. Letting his hands hover over the blade, Flynn yanked it out with one hand, completing the First Aid spell with the other.
Sodia let out a low groan as the spell's healing light hit her wounds, eyes fluttering open.
"Sir..." She looked up into Flynn's eyes, a deep beet blush painted across her face. "Did you catch the girl?"
"Er..." It was much easier to be mad when he was in the heat of the moment. "Don't worry about that for now. Just rest."
She let out a small laugh, face creased in pain as she did so. "I see. I'm sorry I failed you, Sir," she closed her eyes again, the blush still strawberry pink on her cheeks.
"Hey, Flynn, about this afternoon," the heavy white doors swung open, revealing the guild master, a grin on his face. As his dark eyes scanned the room, the grin melted to a scowl, his eyes hardening.
"Is she dead?" He asked as his swift strides crossed the room, picking up the limp body of Rosella like a baby, uncharacteristically pale head hanging down stiffly in the air, arrestingly blue hair hanging like weeds draped on a corpse.
"I--"
"Never mind, I know the answer," Yuri cut off the commandant with a turn of his heel, striding from the room with a confidence only Yuri could pull off in the face of such a situation. "I'll send a healer to your room momentarily."
As the door shut behind the dark-haired man, another door closed in his heart. They, whoever they is, always talk about opening the doors of opportunity, but they never give out advice about when doors close. Do you jam your metaphysical foot in that door, or do you just stand there, paralyzed, as it slams shut in your face? Do you scream and pull and break down that door, or do you accept it and move on?
"Yuri..." Flynn felt tears swim under his eyes. No, he couldn't show any weakness in front of his subordinates, especially with his second-in-command like this. Painfully swallowing his unshed tears, he busied himself with charging up another first aid spell, focusing on keeping his breathing steady.
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Yuri shifted his grip on the motionless girl. "You can stop pretending to be unconscious, Rosy," he deadpanned.
A sigh. Curling her head upwards, she draped one arm around his neck, holding herself up.
"Don't blame me because you got into a fight with your boyfriend," she replied curtly. The effect of losing, or rather, not winning, was still having an effect on her, not to mention the rather vibrant red trail she was leaving down the stairs they were on.
"Don't, Rosy," Yuri grumbled as he broke into a run down a deserted hallway, feet echoing off the marble walls. Letting out a hiss of pain, Rosella's free hand drifted up towards her shoulder, her eyes shooting daggers at the man she had come to see as her elder brother. Seeing her discomfort, the raven slowed to a walk, ignoring the steady, warm stream of red flowing down his arm.
"So, care to explain?" He asked, bright Vesperion sunlight beaming in from one of the hallway's windows illuminating his raven tresses. After much discussion, Brave Vesperia had decided they wanted a city to call their own, rather than following the conventions of another. A place where they could start over from scratch, as if reversing the political flow of time. From a time where there were no Cumores, Ragous or Alexeis. From a time where justice meant justice for all. Thus, Vesperion was born. Although in the beginning it was called Karol's Magical Kingdom, at the boy's request. That hadn't gone over so well with the new townspeople.
Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, Rosella twisted to reach a sitting position, blowing her long bangs out of her amethyst eyes. "Well, long story short, Flynn and I were discussing... something... and then when I left, he yelled for me to stop, which his flunkies took to mean 'Attack!'," she laid her head on his shoulder as she finished her short spiel, letting her eyes flutter close.
"And you got knocked out by Sodia?" Yuri snickered, reaching up to pull the blood encrusted band from her hair. "The girl couldn't beat me with a giant tower on her side."
"That's not what happened," Rosella snapped, not bothering to open her eyes. "Besides, Witcher was with her. And you have more than three artes to work with."
"Of course, Rosy. Blame it on your lack of skill with artes," Yuri chuckled as he nudged open the door to the healer's wing. Which, of course, in Yuri's terms meant kicking it open.
Scowling at him as he lowered her onto a pristine white bed, she slipped under the thin cover, turning on her shoulder. Minutes passed with her mind occupied with nothing but the sharp, crowding pain marring her back, a thin stream of blood slipping down her torso.
After minutes that stretched to grotesque hours in her injured mind, two pairs of footsteps neared her, a low chant of a healing spell filling her ears as Yuri took a seat in front of her, his visage a perfectly passive poker face.
"You send a healer to Flynn?" She asked, letting out a shallow breath of relief as the healing magic poured into her, sealing the gash in her back. With a pop, new flesh began to burst from her back with a soft bubbling sensation. Pushing herself up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, nodding to the hooded healer.
"You'll get there eventually," Yuri said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Why me?"
"You know you want to," Yuri laced his fingers behind his head, playing with his ponytail. "Besides, we can't spare any healers at the moment -- they're all playing doctor for the townspeople who got injured by the knights."
"Fine, fine," Rosella snorted. "I need to get my knife back anyways."
"Have fun!" Yuri called out cheerfully as she stepped lightly from the room, any thoughts of Imperial schemes cleared from her mind.
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Several first aids later, Flynn felt fatigue setting in, and Sodia was looking only marginally better. There was a reason he was a swordsman, and even with his best efforts his second-in-command was hardly spry and on the move.
"Where's that healer?" He muttered as his lips grudgingly traced the words to the spell for what seemed like the umpteenth time.
When the heavy white doors finally groaned open, he let out a long sigh of relief, standing. That is, until he saw the figure standing in the doorway. Her hair was down now, a bone straight curtain of blues with a glimmer of purple. The cut almost reminded him of... no.
"What?" Rosella asked, sarcasm biting through her words. "You asked for a healer, didn't you?" Crossing the room, she stood over Sodia, inspecting the sleeping body.
"Well, yes, it's just that," Flynn trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.
"You don't trust me?" Rosella finished his sentence, nudging Sodia with her foot.
"D-don't do that!" The girl looked up, surprise evident on her face, as she stared at the little mage, his little body shaking all over.
"Excuse me?"
"I-I said not to do that!"
She spat on the rug, the saliva dyed red. "Do what?"
"Things like that!" Witcher yelled, gaining confidence. "You should give us respect! We deserve as much respect as you do!"
A sneer grew on her face. "Respect isn't something you give," she laughed harshly. "It's something you earn."
"Well, the commandant is standing right behind you!" Witcher squeaked, clenching his fists. "I'm sure he's earned respect from 'Your Greatness'!"
Her laughing grew, reminiscent of harsh barking. "Him least of all," her fists slowly curled. "If he's the head of the knights, why are the knights like this?" She took a menacing step towards Witcher. "Do you know why there are no healers to help his little stalker here? It's because all of our healers are out saving the people the knights almost killed in their little power trip."
She was almost on top of him now, her eyes shining with malice. "Want to know what my previous occupation was? Assassination."
"Y-you," Witcher breathed. "You were in the Blood Alliance! You helped Alexei!"
"What do I care? That's not the point of the story. Not even the Blood Alliance--" She shook her head haughtily. "No, not even Barbos was as heartless as the Empire is. At least the Blood Alliance looked out for their own men. Why should I pay respect to a man who's at the head of all of this?"
"It's not Sir Flynn's fault!"
"Witcher, please," Flynn stepped forward, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. Turning to face Rosella, he mustered the most placid smile he could force his face into cooperating with. "Miss Rosella, I understand your distaste for the empire. I must--" No, he couldn't say he agreed, what kind of image would that make for the empire? "However, I hope that someday I can earn your respect not as the commandant, but as a person. No, as a friend."
"Uh..." Rosella stared at him, wide eyed. Who did he think he was, being so polite? It rubbed her the wrong way. If life gives you lemons, fling them right back. Surely that was the only way to live. "Well, then..."
"That's not even a legitimate answer to the question," Witcher piped up, earning himself a dirty glare from the young guild member.
"Do you want the girl healed, or not?" Rosella snapped, flicking her sword free of its holder. Walking over to Sodia, she positioned the tip lightly upon the sleeping woman's chest, grazing the steel armor.
"St--" Witcher started forward, only to be forcefully restrained by Flynn.
"Don't," he breathed, taking a few steps back.
"Oh, blessed blade," Rosella raised her sword above her head. "Lend me your power!" Green light shimmered beneath metal as she brought the blade down into Sodia's chest, slicing cleanly through flesh. Slowly, like a lazy dragon dragging itself from slumber, the light began to seep into the body, new flesh bubbling to the surface, flowing wounds halting to a stop.
Eyelids fluttering over glassy orbs, Sodia pushed herself upright, squinting in the bright light of the now afternoon. Slowly she rubbed her eyes, forcing the room into focus.
"You!" Seeing Rosella, she was on her feet in a flash, hand resting menacingly on the hilt of her sword.
"It's alright, Sodia," Flynn called, stepping forward. Eyes flicking over the guild member, then commandant, her hand reluctantly drifted away from the familiar hilt, a tremor shaking her body as she knelt down, supporting herself on her hands and knees.
"Sodia!" Witcher cried, running up to the woman, who provided only a ghost of a smile.
"I'm fine, Witcher," she replied, a hint of annoyance running up her voice. Why was she the one who fell? Why was that girl looking as good as new? And why, why couldn't she earn respect from the man she admired most?
"Am I done here, then?" An adolescent voice drifted across the room, irritation rumbling within the sound like a hulking beast beating at the walls of polite inquiry.
"Yes, thank you very much," Flynn nodded, straining to keep his vanilla-smooth smile."Oh, just one thing."
Sighing, Rosella turned to him, sarcastic skepticism shooting through her eyes as she slid her knife back into the holder at her thigh. It now carried only the faintest sheen of bronzish red, glinting evilly from her leg.
"Would it be possible you ask Yuri if I may speak with him?"
"Sure, I'll send a messenger."
A real smile breaking through his suave mask, Flynn nodded to the girl as she stepped through the doorway. "When would the messenger be sent out?"
As she closed the door behind her, she waved her hand dismissively.
"You'll get there eventually."
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A/N: Ah ha! Finally finished another chapter! Please review -- I really appreciate all the help seeing all the holes in the stories I weave.