TT I'm sorry everyone, I haven't been working on this in…well….almost a year now…I'M SO SORRY!
Anyway, here's chapter three:
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His blonde hair hidden under a strange military helmet, Shuyin sits with hundreds, if not thousands, of young men and women and machina fighting for Zanarkand. Directly next to him is a young and black ornately armored dragoon soldier. Wearily Shuyin's eyes turn to the little wyvern eating an apple at the young man's feat. The boy, noticing the sleepy azure eyes on his little friend asks Shuyin, "You've never seen a wyvern have you?"
Shuyin turns to the boy and shyly shakes his head whispering, "I only know machina…"
The dragoon shrugs innocently and strokes the scaly head of his wyvern saying, "You should really get out more."
"I can't" runs through Shuyin's intricate mind, "I have a family to protect."
For barely more than a moment, the delicate balance of Shuyin is thrown off. Awkwardly, with nothing more to say, he stands and walks away oddly tensed at the thought of his lover all alone in the metropolis he calls home. The dragoon is clearly disturbed by the homesick warrior and tends to his small wyvern.
The confused blitz player and warrior treads through the ranks of the army and slowly comes to the realization everyone here has taken the life of men, women, and worst of all, children of Bevelle. His thin body trembles and he begins to sprint through the new-fallen crystallized snow. He runs for fear the other soldiers will see him beginning to let tears fall, and the strange air about them all seeming to scream out in fiery hate the names of the ones they've killed.
A very young Mithra white mage notices him from her tent and lets her silvery eyes follow him through the camp. Every now and then he'll trip over someone or something, pathetically unable to stop for reasons locked inside his unstable cerebrum. She asks her commanding officer for permission to check on him, and granted the permission her gentle hands set down the medications she's been storing into potions and phoenix-downs. Carefully and without notice the white-headed Mithra girl begins to follow the distraught Shuyin who has finally collapsed on an icy cliff near the edge of the camp.
Soft and hazy, the azure spheres in Shuyin's eyes trace out the iced over and white spires of South Zanarkand, long since evacuated by its inhabitants. Off in the distance beyond the spires he makes out the thin blue-green outline of the ocean. More homesick than ever he stares down at his gloved palm and wearily raises his now pain-filled face to stare back at the pathetic army. Placing his palms on either side of his helmet, as if in pure disobedience to his commanding officer, he lifts his helmet off to stare at the frosting metal in hate.
The furry white mage Mithra's hand comes to rest on his shoulder; Shuyin gives no response to her for quite some time. A cloud passes through the camp and in the haze Shuyin hangs his head and shoves his helmet off the cliff, the defensive object echoes back as it clanks ungallantly against rocks until it wedges in between two a few hundred feet down.
"Was that necessary?" At the sound of a female voice, he finally looks up to the Mithra, immediately attempting to hide his face. Gracefully she droops to her knees and swings her tail too and fro, in its own way, her tail shows her concern. Caringly she runs her fingers through his icicle filled hair to move it from his dirt-stained face. She asks softly, "Are you ok? You don't look so good."
For the longest time they remain like this, as if frozen in time with the rest of the mysterious mountain until finally, "How long have we been here?"
Shuyin's question proves harder to answer than she initially considered, but finally she manages to come up with an approximate answer. "Six months, warrior."
Slightly angered he snaps, "How many casualties have we suffered?"
Uneasily she whispers, "About six million…"
Shuyin turns to her and shoves her hand away and growls out the question, "And how many does Bevelle hold captive?"
The Mithra's inability to answer causes Shuyin to rip off his chest-plate and leg armor. When she tries to warn him not to do so, he simply pulls off the rest and hands it all to her. She remains standing there unsure of what to do as he paces away, even farther out of the camp and into the misty morning clouds shrouding the mountain in shadow.
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Lenne sits uncomfortably at her work table with her head resting on the desk; her beautiful violet eyes are half open and lazily staring at a sphere recording Shuyin sent to her months ago. Ever since her lover went to the mountain peak, he hasn't been able to contact her, and she worries the absence of contact is because he may be dead. The days of her life have passed and she waits each morning for a pair of men in black to appear at her door and announce to her his death.
Her fragile body frame is thrown off now by a very large bump underneath her baggy nightshirt, which actually belongs to her loving Shuyin. She wears his shirts to remember the specific scent he carries, no matter what the media says about it, let alone he fact that she's pregnant now and there appears to be no father present. Every moment of her life is no longer her own, but for her baby and her prayers for her husband so far away to live and see their child grow. Even the lyrics she spends so much time writing now revolve around Shuyin and their unborn child.
The morning is still young and the sun's rays have barely reached into the depths of Zanarkand. Oddly there is a knock at the door that startles the young mother. She rises to her feet and walks to hesitantly stand behind the large door, knowing whatever lies on the other side can't possibly be good news for her. She cracks the door and stares out at the shadowy figure on the opposing side.
"So, you do live here." As the figure speaks she immediately opens the door to stare at them.
Her happiness is evident, but not fully shown as the large samurai enters into her home. His boots tread heavily past her until the man carefully sits in a chair across the room, draping a large red coat on the back of it. The large sword he carries rests against a nearby wall; still within his reach should it be needed.
Lenne glances out the door to make sure no one saw him enter and she carefully closes and locks it. Her eyes turn to rest on the man, he isn't much older than Shuyin, but a certain way about him says differently. His voice is deep and comforting to the young pregnant Lenne as he states, "Shuyin sent me. He's worried," without another word, he lies a sphere onto the table and leans back in the chair once again.
Still unsure she leans forward and asks, "Where did he send you from? And how long ago?"
The man laughs slightly, "The base of mount Gagazette three days; you thought he'd be dead didn't you?"
Her slender fingers fidget uneasily as she begins to reach for the sphere. Soft and nervous she looks up to the man's dark eyes and barely audible asks, "What is this?"
Stiffly the man rises and answers back, "Shuyin recorded it before they departed for the peak. He strictly said it was only to be viewed by you." Before she can respond he walks off into the kitchen and makes no signs of returning soon.
Following the curve of the sphere she activates it and watches as a strange scene unfolds. Her husband stands alone in a large cavern; all around him are icicles of unimaginable size. Shuyin's face looks tired and a fake smile is easily identified on his face as he says, "I know I won't be able to send you anything for the next few months, so I wanted to record this now."
He turns his face away from the sphere and stares off at something that can't be seen as he continues, "I just wanted to let you know I'm still alive out here, and no matter what they say, I am coming home for the birth of our child. If I can't keep any other promise, this I swear I will. I have to go now, but you know, if you whistle I'll be there." A real smile finally comes across his weary face.
Shuyin remains silent for a few seconds before he looks back to the sphere and gives a gentle, "I love you," letting the sphere turn off.
Her now saddened face looks towards the kitchen as her hands come to rest softly across her large belly. She hangs her head and lets her hair slide forward to hide her face as she grips the sphere tightly in her hands.
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Back up on the mountain top, Shuyin sits in a large snow bank shivering. His entire conscious mind is directed to his wife and child, despite the cold, and the fact that he can hear a small group of fellow soldiers calling out his name and searching for him. After quite some time, he can no longer take the cold and calls out, "I'm here."
At the affirmation of his position, the rest of his company slowly appears around him. Shuyin makes no effort to move and continues to sit there shivering until his commanding officer appears among the others and glares. Finally he stands, unwilling to salute or even attempt to show respect to this man.
"Why did you run off soldier?" he snaps.
Shuyin simply shivers in response and turns away only to get a metal plated fist bashed into his side. Tired, weak, and now in pain, Shuyin collapses without complaint and lies there in an eerie silence. His officer demands again, "Why did you run off soldier?"
Unwilling to respond Shuyin casts an icy glare in his commanding officer's direction. The man pays no heed to the look and kicks Shuyin's side causing him to bare his teeth and stiffen in pain. Ignoring Shuyin's apparent pain he kicks him twice more before growling out the command, "Take him to a white mage."
Immediately the others respond and pick up the limp Shuyin and carry him down a slight decline back to the main road to the base camp. Much to the young blonde's dismay they take him to the same Mithra girl that he earlier had duped his things on. The girl shows no signs of anger or annoyance; she simply pulls out a couple potions and smiles as the others leave.
Her cat-like ears twitch each time he breathes and finally she says inquiringly, "You don't show it, but I saw when you took off your gloves earlier...a gold ring and I was wondering if you really are-"
"Married? Yes," he takes no hesitation and leaves her in an awkward silence. Shuyin's angered eyes look away from her and he refuses to listen to her.
After a long while she finally forces him to move his arms enough that she can use the potions in her hand as she asks, "Why did you come to the front lines anyway? Most who are married wouldn't attempt such a thing."
Shuyin remains silent until she's used enough potions to entirely nullify his pain; he returns the answer, "I didn't have a choice."
Her ears go back and she gives a look of pity. "I'm sorry," is all she can say.
Warily he glances up at the strange Mithra girl and takes her in confusingly, watching her tail sway softly as she heals him. He sighs and closes his eyes for a few seconds when suddenly he realizes, "The machina," he tries to sit up, but the Mithra refuses to let him.
Her furry hands are soft, but strong and finally he lies back, obeying the strange healer. As kindly as everything else she speaks, she asks, "What about the machina?"
The Blitz-ball player's eyes flash oddly and he whispers, "Do you know if a machina party was sent out towards the south-east?"
About to speak she pauses to think when suddenly she whispers, "They're attacking the heart of Zanarkand with our own machina."
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That's chapter three everybody… and yes, that is Auron who appears in the middle of the chapter, he's got a big part in this fan fic!
I'm not sure when I'll get chapter four done, so I can't give any promises TT