009: BREAK AWAY

The birdsong had just started again when Corosa managed to break himself out of his daze. But Satero was long gone, by then. The mastersmith moved fast for such a big man. Corosa knew that all too well. He'd been traveling with the man for the past few days.

Corosa stared down the road, wrestling the urge to dash away in the opposite direction. He still was unsure of how likely it was that Satero would find his damn past, but he'd rather not take the risk.

He'd rather not take the risk of going any nearer to Prontera, either. But it was that or Satero. Or both, if karma decided to bite him in the ass. Sometimes--especially of late, Corosa thought, grimacing as he forced himself to not look at his arm--he wondered what manner of wickedness he must have carried out in his past life, to now lead a life as shitty as this. Then again, Corosa didn't believe in karma.

He went to his knees, fumbling with the latches of his case and swearing to himself all the while. Piled on to the frustration that Satero had left him with was the frustration of not being left-handed. But at the moment, Satero worried him more. How far away was the mastersmith by now? Too far. Corosa's own damn fault for going into shock. That was stupid of him. Thirty years living in a world where things like that led you straight into death, and he still hadn't mastered his fear. Or his temper, apparently. If he hadn't allowed himself to be goaded by Satero's anger he could have prevented this.

A bit too late for regrets and what-ifs now, though. Thirty years in this world should have taught him that, too. The more time he sat around feeling pissed at himself, the further away Satero was getting.

He snatched some extra ammunition and slammed the lid down. The case was left lying in a ditch off to the side, and Corosa himself was left sprinting down a road that he, with all his heart, did not want to travel.

------------

It felt as if the wind were screaming in his ears.

But that was better, at least, than dead silence.

------------

How many roads to Prontera? Hopefully only one. If not, and if Satero thought he'd followed, Corosa had no chance of finding him.

There were more people now. For a moment Corosa nearly skid to a halt, his heart twisting as he realized how close he was to Prontera. No matter. He forced himself to move on. It felt like he were moving through water. He only hoped that he was going faster than that. He was, if the looks shot his way were anything to judge by.

Something clicked in his mind. Now would be a good time to find out whether Satero had suspected he'd followed. But Corosa had the feeling that the only thing keeping him going was a parody of momentum, the momentum of fear, and if he stopped it would all evaporate away and he wouldn't be able to get moving again.

Common sense kicked in. His body did not have a mind of its own; it ran when he damn well wanted it to run. And he damn well did not want to run all the way to Prontera down this road while Satero took another.

He stopped and started to raise his right arm to clutch at his chest. It registered in his mind that his right hand was not connecting. It also registered that he no longer had a right hand, so he let that arm drop. Then, still catching his breath, he flung his left arm out to grasp the nearest person's shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he saw a young woman, walking quickly and dragging a cart along behind her.

The merchant jerked her head towards him in surprise, coming to a halt.

"Yes?" she asked. Her eyes flickered towards the gun in the same hand at her shoulder. Corosa was lucky. This was one of the not-so-easily startled ones, judging by the fact that she had not beaten his head in yet.

"I'm looking for a mastersmith--"

"Seen quite a lot of them," the woman interrupted.

Corosa scowled. She hadn't been frightened out of her wits, but she was taking none too kindly to being stopped. "One who looks like me."

Their similar appearances made for one advantage, at least; it was easier to find one another. 'Blond hair, grey eyes' couldn't quite cut it when describing one person to another, and Corosa had never been good with words, let alone fullblown descriptions.

The merchant frowned at him, studying his face. She had common brown eyes but the way she stared made them disconcerting anyways. "Hm. Think I did, actually. Had a wolf's grin, did he? Sharp teeth and all? But you don't have those."

Teeth? Corosa didn't recall that, though come to think of it, every cigarette that went into Satero's mouth came out shredded to bits. "Down this road?" he asked.

"Straight towards the city. Not more than a few moments ago. If you're looking for him, you don't need to run so fast. He was walking."

Corosa's scowl remained where it was. Satero had a deceptive gait. It looked slow, but more often than not Corosa found himself speedwalking to keep up. "Thank you."

"Goodbye," the merchant said at the same time.

They had both turned away and started off in their own directions before either had finished speaking.

------------

The crowd of people became thicker. Corosa focused on getting one foot ahead of the other, instead of focusing on where he was and why there were so many bodies around him. Because crowds meant cities, and cities meant--

Damn it, there he was.

Satero was all too easy to spot, even in a crowd as varied at this one. The mastersmith towered above most people. With a start, Corosa realized that he was of the same height, too. Though slightly shorter. Satero had far better posture.

"Satero!" Corosa had to shout to make himself heard above the crowd. No one stared at that. Shouting was hardly uncommon around here.

The mastersmith turned, and in that moment Corosa's gaze slipped away from Satero to Satero's surroundings.

Walls, doors, windows, buildings. Lamp posts lining the cobbled streets, and the headache-inducing noise of too many people crammed into one small spot. The stink of the same, too. The sky seemed to be pressing down on them, hanging lower than usual, and suddenly Corosa had the distinct impression that there was not enough air for all of them.

Too late. He was off the road now, and in Prontera herself.

Driven by memories that he would happily forget, Corosa jerked his head to his right, staring off into the direction that his home had been, and still was.

The people and streets and buildings all went dark, dissolving away into the night that had not yet come upon them, and Corosa could see nothing but home.

"Shit, I didn't think you'd actually follow me." Satero had shoved his way through the crowd and it was only now that Corosa noticed. Little more than a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. But he clutched at it, anyway, because it was the only other thing he could register in Prontera aside from himself and the nightmare on the other side of the city, something only he could see.

Then that too was gone.

"That way, huh?" Satero asked, with his hand over Corosa's eyes.

"No." Corosa didn't expect Satero to believe him, but that was not the point. He unclenched his fist from the collar of Satero's shirt. Then he jammed the barrel of his gun against what felt like Satero's neck, wrestling his fingers into the right positions again. Even here there was, at least, the comfort found in the curve of a trigger.

"The hell?"

Corosa did not explain, still distracted by the lurking presence on the edges of his mind. Not being able to see the thing did not change the fact of its existence.

"Goddammit, Corosa, take that thing away or else we're gonna have people all over us. Ya don't play with guns here 'less you wanna get your ass handed to ya." Satero had stepped closer and was speaking straight into Corosa's ear.

"Then you're leaving with me." Corosa had to force the words out. It felt like he was speaking through a mouthful of blood.

"Like hell I am. You're the idiot who decided t' follow me." Satero sounded more pitying than angry, but elements of both emotions were there. He did not seem worried by the gun at all.

Corosa let his hand drop, then raised it back up to push Satero's hand off. He stared straight at the mastersmith. The rest of Prontera was blocked out of sight. But it was not the city that was the problem, it was the damn house, and the house was always there whether Prontera was or not.

And now Satero knew which direction to head towards. He'd find it. Corosa was sure enough of that; he'd find it sooner or later, and probably sooner, knowing Corosa's luck.

Satero stepped away and snorted. "Fuck, didn't think you'd actually have the balls to come after me. Touching, that. But I'm going on anyway. Meet you back here?"

Optimism at its highest. Corosa stared at him in disbelief. He knew better than anyone else alive that if Satero found his way in, he sure as hell wasn't going to be coming out any time soon.

When Satero didn't receive a reply, he shrugged and started to walk away.

"You can't..." The rest of that sentence was lost, voice paralyzed by fear.

The mastersmith heard him, anyway, and turned. "Last time I checked, I sure as hell could."

Then he strode away, more quickly than before.

When Corosa first set out after him, he hadn't known what he planned to do. He knew that Satero was stronger than him, and faster, and unhindered by any missing limbs whatsoever. It didn't seem possible to physically force the man to do anything. The gun to his neck hadn't fazed him at all.

But Corosa knew all that, and he'd had time to chew on it, and for once he had panic on his side. There was not much time.

He growled softly and pushed his way through the people clogging up the street. The feeling of being suffocated came back, worse than ever, and with it the sensation of his heart twisting in on itself. But he ignored all that, driven on by a thousand things at once. Corosa could see into the future. And he saw that if Satero was trapped inside, he'd wind up in there too. Guilt was a hard thing to live with and guilt would drive him back home just for letting Satero slip away.

He'd sooner shoot himself through the eye before he let that happen.

Satero had disappeared, ducking into one of the smaller streets where there were less people. Corosa had lost track of him. Goddamn. He chose a likely looking path and went down it, breaking free of the main street and finding himself at the doorstep of a small shop. It had been so long since he'd last seen all this. If only it'd been a longer.

The mastersmith knew which direction to go, so Corosa went in that direction as well, as much as he hated to. With every step he came closer and closer to home.

He ran, because walking would lengthen the time, and his agonizing with it.

Though this was not the main street anymore, there were still too many people for Corosa's comfort. He had to skid to a halt at the end of an alleyway, when a young girl burst out of the door and nearly reeled straight into his path. His arm still twinged with pain. Crashing into someone was not going to alleviate him of that.

Corosa looked away from the girl edging her way around him. It was then that he caught sight of Satero, not more than a few feet away.

For the smallest fraction of time all his fear and horror and terror was lifted from him, and for the first time in a long time he found himself not afraid of the prospect of a ceiling above his head or a street beneath his feet. It was only a tiny fraction of time. But it was enough to give him the calm which he needed to aim.

Corosa did not need calm to pull the trigger.

The mastersmith had not been moving fast, and nor was he far.

-------

A/N: Urgh, believe me, I feel bad about leaving this hanging too. Because personally, I hate cliffhangers. But I couldn't figure out a better way to end this chapter. (aside from the obvious "rocks fall, everyone dies". but uhhhh i don't think you guys would accept that.)

I swear I'll get the next update out soon as possible.

And sorry for the lack of updates before this, I was busy the past few weeks. Had a friend over, needed to keep him entertained, and believe me, watching me write this thing probably isn't entertaining at all.

(also please feel free to take a moment to laugh at satero

and corosa for being such an immature dickwad

lol angstt ohshittttt

/completely useless)

(wtf my chapters are getting longer and longer)