A/N: Another chapter on the same day? Woah! (It was really fun to write.) Enjoy, and reviews would be greatly appreciated! We finally have the councils decision this time!
Two days had passed since the battle with the behemoth, but the camp was still rife with tension. The morning sun filtered weakly through the canvas of the largest tent, illuminating the anxious faces of the gathered clan members. Everyone had risen at dawn, eager to resolve the matter at hand.
At the center of it all stood their pink-haired captive—the viper who had fought alongside them, now silent and isolated as her fate was debated. Her eyes were cast downward, and though Vanille couldn't discern the reason, her pale green eyes remained fixed on Lightning's pale back, which was marked by the rough garb she had been given.
Vanille stood beside Fang, nervously twisting the beads on her garb—a habit she hadn't outgrown since childhood. She leaned closer to her friend, seeking comfort. It shouldn't be like this; they shouldn't have to vote on whether to end a life. It was absurd and not a custom Vanille favored. Magic flowed through her veins, shimmering at her fingertips as she waited.
The atmosphere was heavy, the dusty air thick with unease. Fang's face was a mask of steely resolve, barely concealing her disgust. Vanille knew her friend struggled to contain her emotions, torn between her duty to their people and the undeniable truth that Lightning had helped them.
A loud stamp of a staff silenced the room. The Chief, Fang's father, commanded attention, halting the mindless chatter. The council sat in a semicircle at the head of the room, with the Chief in the center. His sharp green eyes scanned the clan, his expression calm but intense. His long brown hair, tied back with ceremonial beads, framed a face marked by many battles. This decision weighed more heavily than any before; it would define his legacy.
As the murmurs quieted, the Chief raised his hand, signaling for attention. The room fell silent, all eyes on the captive flanked by guards. Her pink hair, still matted with blood from the battle, contrasted with her now-healed wounds. She stood tall, her face unreadable, as the council prepared to decide her fate.
The Chief began, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We are here to decide the fate of the viper who stands before us." His voice resonated through the crowd. "She fought beside us in our hour of need, but she remains one of them—our enemies, a scourge to our people for generations."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, tempered by uncertainty. Vanille felt the rising tension, a battle of emotions unfolding around her. Frightened people often made rash decisions. She glanced at Fang, whose rigid posture and clenched jaw betrayed her barely restrained anger.
One of the elders, an older man with a weathered face and deep-set eyes, spoke next. "The vipers have always been a threat to us. We've heard tales of their treachery, of how they treat their own—purging their people, killing their allies." His words were firm and unwavering. "She may have fought with us, but that doesn't change who she is or where she comes from. We can't afford to make a grave mistake."
A wave of agreement swept through the room, and Vanille felt a sinking sensation in her chest. The camp was divided—some acknowledged her help, while others were ready to see her life ended. The discussion grew louder, with voices calling for execution and threats of violence. Vanille clutched Fang's sari, her magic warming her palms in response to the escalating chaos.
An elderly woman with bright orange hair and a gravelly voice spoke with skepticism. "And what if this is all part of some larger plan? She helps us now, gains our trust, and then strikes when we're vulnerable. We can't afford to let our guard down. The safest course is to end this now." Her staff pounded the ground as she spoke, drawing cheers from nearly half the crowd. Even Fang smirked in agreement.
Vanille's heart ached at the harshness of the words, but she understood the fear behind them. The room grew louder, with some calling for her execution and others urging caution.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise. A middle-aged man, the clan's potions master, stood up. His deep purple and black tunic and the array of vials hanging from his belt marked him as a figure of authority. His blue eyes were sharp, his tone deadly calm. "If we are to let her live, it must be under strict conditions," he declared. "She will be watched at all times, and I will prepare a special brew. If she so much as breathes wrong, I will ensure she is dealt with."
A hush fell over the room, the weight of his threat palpable. The clan members exchanged uneasy glances; the potions master's warning was not to be taken lightly. He walked from his seat, circling Lightning in the center of the room, and then exited, no longer wishing to participate.
Fang, who had been silent up to this point, finally spoke, her voice sharp and filled with anger. "We can't take chances with her. She's a threat to us all. We don't need her sowing doubt and division. She may have fought with us, but that doesn't erase who she is. I say we end this now, before she has the chance to do any harm." She stepped closer to the Chief, her voice rising. "Deal with it, Father."
The Chief's lips curled into a smirk as he glanced around the room. Fang's words struck a chord with many, and Vanille saw fear and uncertainty in their eyes. Fang's loyalty to the clan was unshakable, and the idea of letting an enemy live among them was something she couldn't accept.
Before Vanille could speak, another council member, a man with tired eyes and a kind voice, raised his hand. He was dressed simply in a cotton shirt and brown pants. "We owe her something for what she did," he said quietly, his fingers intertwined in his lap. "She could have left us to fend for ourselves, but she didn't. She stayed and fought. That must count for something." He glanced at Fang and then the Chief, hoping to sway their decision. "But trust is not given freely—it must be earned. Perhaps we can find a middle ground."
Chief Yun listened thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. The room simmered with tension, the arguments growing more heated. Lightning remained silent, her eyes fixed on the ground, her body tense but composed. She understood the gravity of her situation but offered no defense or plea for mercy. If they were going to kill her, she'd rather they did it quickly; otherwise, she wanted to leave.
Vanille couldn't stay silent any longer. She stepped forward, her voice trembling but filled with conviction. "Haven't we seen enough bloodshed? Killing her won't bring back those we've lost or make us safer." She was near tears, unable to justify more killing. "If we do this, we're perpetuating the cycle of violence. We should give her a chance to prove herself, to live among us."
The young priestess' words hung in the air, met with a mix of nods and scowls. Fang's eyes blazed with anger as she faced Vanille. "And if she betrays us? If she brings her people here and destroys everything we've built?"
Vanille met her gaze firmly. "Then we deal with it when the time comes. But we don't kill out of fear. That's not who we are, Fang."
The Chief observed the exchange between the two women, his face betraying no emotion.
Finally, after deliberation, he spoke to Lightning. "Viper," he began, his tone measured, "you have fought for us, but you remain an outsider and an enemy." Her eyes remained downcast, shifting her weight slightly for comfort. "The clan is divided, as you can see. Many would see you dead. But I will not have more blood on our hands if it can be avoided."
He paused, letting the tension build before continuing. "You will be allowed to stay, but under strict watch. You will need to earn our trust or face exile. Do you accept these terms?"
Lightning lifted her gaze, meeting the Chief's eyes. She nodded once, a practiced gesture. "I accept your terms."
The decision was made, and the room began to stir as clan members processed the outcome. Some left with discontent, others with uneasy relief. Vanille felt a mix of both, her heart heavy but hopeful that this was the right path.
Fang said nothing as she turned and walked out of the tent, her expression unreadable. Vanille hesitated before moving to her side, offering a small, tentative smile.
"Thank you," Lightning said quietly, her voice rough but sincere.
Vanille nodded, her heart aching for the woman who had narrowly escaped death. "We'll figure this out," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
As Vanille untied the bindings around Lightning's wrists, she noticed the deep impressions the ropes had left in her skin. The air was thick with tension, and although Lightning remained silent, her eyes were heavy. Vanille held her hands gently, her touch causing a soft blue glow to emanate from her palms. Lightning bit her lip, suppressing a wince as her skin began to repair itself under the soothing light.
"Why are you helping me?" Lightning asked, puzzled by Vanille's unusual kindness.
Vanille glanced up, her eyes meeting Lightning's with sympathy. "Because everyone deserves a chance," she replied softly, her voice steady despite the strain in her heart. "You were hurt, just like anyone else might be. We can't ignore that, no matter who or what you are."
Lightning looked at her in surprise. "And what if I turn out to be a threat? What if I'm just playing along until I can strike?"
Vanille shook her head, her expression earnest. "I don't think you're playing us. I think you're trying to survive. We've seen enough death around here. I've lost more people than I can count. I don't want to add to it if we can avoid it."
As Vanille finished healing Lightning's wrists, the blue glow faded from her hands. Lightning flexed her fingers cautiously, feeling the relief of her skin mending, though the pain still lingered in her muscles. She glanced around the tent, noting the wary eyes of the clan members nearby.
"Why are you so willing to trust me?" Lightning asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vanille took a deep breath, sighing as she followed Lightning's gaze. "It's not about trust right now. It's about giving someone a chance to prove themselves. Fang and the others may see only the risk, but I see someone who needs help and deserves the opportunity to show they're more than the sins of their people's past."
The tension in Lightning's shoulders eased slightly as she absorbed Vanille's words.
The tent was gradually emptying, clan members leaving with expressions ranging from unease to outright distrust. Those who lingered didn't stay for long.
Vanille helped Lightning to her feet. She moved slowly, her body stiff with exhaustion. As they stepped out into the harsh sunlight, the brightness was almost blinding after the dimness inside.
Fang stood a few steps away, her posture rigid and arms crossed. Her forest-green eyes were fixed on Lightning with an intensity that bordered on hostility. Vanille could sense the storm brewing between them, the air crackling with unresolved tension.
"What now?" Fang questioned, her voice tight with barely contained anger. She didn't look at Vanille, her gaze locked on Lightning, who was still regaining her bearings.
Lightning glanced around the camp, noting the wary, mistrustful stares of the lingering clan members. When she finally spoke, her voice was low but steady. "I wasn't supposed to be here. My ship crashed. I didn't even know where I was."
Fang's eyes narrowed. "That's your excuse?"
Lightning met her glare head-on. "It's not an excuse; it's the truth. I was dying out there! I had no idea where I was or that anyone lived here. I was just trying to survive."
Fang's expression hardened, her anger barely contained. "So, you just accidentally ended up in our camp? And we're supposed to believe that?"
Lightning sighed, her exhaustion evident. "Believe what you want. I'm not here to convince you. If I had my way, I'd leave immediately. I don't want to live among you any more than you want me here. But I'm stuck, and I don't have a choice."
Vanille felt the tension growing between them, like a rope being pulled too tight. She stepped closer to Fang, her voice gentle but firm. "Fang, enough. She didn't come here to hurt anyone; she would have done so by now."
Fang's fists clenched, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "And what's to stop her from leaving and bringing her people back here? What's to stop her from betraying us the moment she has the chance?"
Lightning's gaze was steady. "I'm not interested in any of that. I just want to go home. But until I figure out how, I'm stuck here. So, either you let me stay and try to make the best of it, or you kill me now and be done with it."
Vanille felt a pang of sympathy for Lightning but knew Fang's distrust ran deep. "Fang, please. We've already decided to give her a chance. She's not our enemy right now. She just wants to survive, same as us."
Fang stared at Lightning for a long moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and doubt. Finally, she turned on her heel and walked away, her movements stiff with frustration. Many followed her, either to check on her or vent their frustrations.
Vanille watched her go, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. She turned back to Lightning, offering a small, tentative smile. "I'm sorry about her, and about most of us," she said softly, unsure of how to express her apology.
Lightning nodded, but her expression remained distant.
As they walked through the camp, the stares of the clan members followed them, filled with fear and distrust. Vanille knew this was only the beginning of a long, difficult road. The clan had spared Lightning's life, but acceptance would be much harder to achieve.
As Vanille walked Lightning through their main encampment, the atmosphere tense to say the least. The air was filled with the sounds of everyone coming to life, with people preparing for the day ahead, yelling, sounds of washing and cooking, training with weapons. Even children ere playing amongst themselves as the sun rose higher and higher.
Vanille tried to offer a reassuring presence,she was a trusted priestess of her people. The youngest to ever reach such a position, one she was never going to take for granted. She was a guide for Lightning through the narrow paths lined with makeshift tents and lean-tos.
The camp was a patchwork of different structures, each one reflecting the resourcefulness of its inhabitants. The scent of cooking fires and earthy herbs mingled with the smell of sweat and dust. It tingles Lightnings nose, it was nothing like Cocoon. Everything was so structured and aligned, it was all clean and full of disinfectant. At least until the last few years.
As they walked, Vanille tried to make small talk to ease the awkwardness. "So, how come you were on the aircraft?" she asked, attempting to bridge the gap between them.
Lightning glanced around, her expression guarded. "A few days. I was on a mission, and things went sideways. I'm used to handling myself, but this situation… None if it went as expected."
Vanille nodded, trying to understand. "It must be hard, being in a place you didn't plan to be. We're not exactly used to having strangers, especially ones from the outside." Lightning could tell.
As they continued, Vanille noticed the way Lightning's shoulders tensed whenever someone stared too long, eyeing her up as if she was a piece of meat, fresh and ready for dismembering. The whispers and hushed conversations that followed them were hard to ignore. The clan's members exchanged glances, their unease palpable.
At one point, they passed by a group of warriors sharpening their weapons. Their local weapons smith. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a deep scar across his face, Hawkes, stopped his work and watched them intently. His gaze was cold, filled with distrust. Vanille noticed the slight shift in her companions' posture, a subtle stiffening that spoke volumes about her discomfort, and led her away.
Vanille brought Lightning to a quieter part of the camp, where the clamour of daily activities was less overwhelming. The path led them to a small clearing with a few benches and a view of the surrounding landscape. The dense forest behind them, and a glistening crystal clear lake in front of them. It took Lightning's breath away, and she spent several moments watching the water, eager to jump in.
The camp stretched out behind them, a patchwork of activity against the backdrop of the rugged terrain, small in comparison but its people mighty.
Vanille finally broke the silence. "I know it's not easy being here. But I want you to know that I'm on your side." Lightning raised an eyebrow and drew her face back to the younger girl, who's eyes had been alight with curiosity as she had watched the water. "Fang—she's a warrior and has always been overprotective. It's hard for her to trust."
Lightning sighed. "I understand. It's just... I don't belong here, and I'm not sure how to make myself fit."
Vanille smiled gently. "You don't have to fit in right away. Just take it one day at a time. I'll help you navigate things and make sure you have what you need."
As they sat there, the sun reached its zenith, casting a warm glow over them. Vanille hoped that, with time, the clan would come to accept Lightning, and that she would find a way to prove herself and would manage to find what she came to Gran Pulse for. But for now, she focused on making the transition as smooth as possible.
Suddenly, they heard a commotion nearby.
A group of children, curious and bold, had approached from in between the brush. They were not as cautious as their elders and surrounded Lightning, eyes wide with fascination, all trying tot alk to her or tug on her hair. One of the little girls, with pigtails and a cheeky smile, reached out and touched Lightning's sleeve, trying to tug her out of her seat.
Lightning's blue eyes widened.
"Are you a warrior?" she asked innocently, her eyes shining with admiration.
Lightning looked down at the child, her stern expression softening. "Not exactly. I was more of a... traveller."
The children seemed enchanted by her, and their innocent curiosity briefly lifted the weight of tension from her stoic shoulders. Vanille watched with a small smile, appreciating the fleeting moment of normalcy amidst the chaos. She adored children, and spent most of her time teaching them, helping them make clothes or new games, more often than not keeping them out of trouble.
As the children eventually ran off, laughing and chattering, Vanille turned to Lightning. "See? Even the little ones are intrigued by you. It might take time, but people will start to see you for you."
Lightning gave a small, grateful smile.
She was a long way from home, a long way from the people she cared about. It settled a knot in her stomach so she glanced out to the water. Wondering what her sister was doing, if she was worried, or if anyone had noticed yet that this rescue mission had gone completely and utterly wrong.
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