Noah by Night
He woke up, sweat soaking his face and hair. It was that same dream again. The judge sat up and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He let out a sigh and then gazed out the window. Why was it that boy always haunted his dreams? Always that same boy. 'Reks' he had heard Basch call him. Gabranth lay his head back down against his pillow. He didn't understand. He didn't understand why that boy, Reks, kept appearing in his mind at night. He could see the boy's face so vividly in his mind. His frightened expression as he entered the throne room, his pained expression when Gabranth's own blade had been thrust into him, his hurt expression when he realized it was Basch who had done that to him. But that was just it, it wasn't Basch who had done it. Gabranth had framed his brother by his own will. But why was it that Gabranth was having such a hard time dealing with this now? Why was he so upset? It was only a kid. The judge laughed bitterly. He knew that it wasn't just a kid. There was something about that 'Reks' that made him feel strange. Almost guilty. He was just a young boy, most likely as innocent as they come. And he had thought that his own Captain had turned on him, the king, and the other soldiers. It would seem like unimaginable betrayal to a child like that.
The judge rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, Reks flooded his mind, as clear as ever. Gabranth could remember watching as the boy lay helpless on the floor of the throne room, the blade protruding from his body, looking extremely uncomfortable. The judge shivered at the thought and pulled the blankets tighter around him. He could remember as he left the throne room, he could hear the boy wimpering. Then, it meant nothing, but now, the judge's heart was being torn just thinking about it. Why had he done such a thing? Gabranth, furious now at his own thoughts, violently got up from his bed. There was no point in trying to sleep now. His heart was being wrenched, something that he had never felt before.
He knew this was all his own fault. There was nothing he could do to bring the boy back. But just why was he standing out in Gabranth's mind so clearly? The judge tried to figure that out as he struggled to get into his armour, while at the same time, trying to block out his thoughts. Then, something hit him. A huge realization that had a hard impact. The judge froze. Love?! No, he thought. There was no way he could be in love with a boy that he never really even knew. But when he thought about Reks' face, his feelings told him the truth. His stomach squirmed and his legs grew weak, but it was true. He loved this boy. But there was nothing he could do now. Reks was dead, and it was Gabranth's own fault. There was no use in apologizing. There was no use in begging for forgiveness. Maybe he was even beyond redemption. The judge placed his helmet on his head and stared loathingly at his reflection in the window pane. This was what he was, and this is what he had been that night. A judge. A murderer. He became a different person beneath that armour. But at least the helmet could cover his fear, and his guilt, and maybe even his tears. He was no longer who he used to be. Noah. That was a name long forgotten. It seemed as if it had been put on a shelf, collecting dust as the name Gabranth took over. And with the name, there came the personality. The personality of a judge. A judge could show no mercy, no guilt. But that was exactly what Gabranth was feeling. He thought for a moment, perhaps he wasn't meant to be a judge.
He then shook his head and turned to leave his room. Even as wracked with guilt as he was, he had a job to do, to guard young Prince Larsa. He feared that Vayne would one day turn on Larsa, and he could not let there be a repeat of what happened to Reks. He would not let Larsa be killed. Perhaps, by protecting him, he could earn a small portion of redemption. But he doubted it. It was fine. He would just have to accept the truth. He was Gabranth by day, a judge with a duty to fulfill, Noah by night, a good man forever haunted by his own dreams.