Filling In The Blanks
A/N: Well this chapter gets pretty back into the swing of things here :) More Drama yay.
Disclaimer: I haven't owned it for the last 18 chapters, I'm not starting now :)
Chapter 18: Somehow Mistakes Were Made
When Dagger finally opened her eyes, what she saw in front of her was a catastrophe. The raven haired girl had only summoned one other time in her entire life, and never before had she summoned Leviathan, but now she knew that that summoned creature might not have been the best choice.
Some guards heads were at weird angles, their helmets dented from the force of hitting the brick wall, necks broken, blood spewing from a few of them. There were people hanging over the old, splintering support beams on the ceiling, most of them not very fond of the height. People were in heaps in the corner, and some people were just peeling off the wall and falling towards the stone floor, their body finally stopped compression themselves towards the wall, moving faster than the world spun, to come down off the stone.
She was almost positive everyone was spread around the hidden corridors, knowing very well the water found a way out only through the door. The girl prayed the boat was still around, but even more so that she could find her allies quickly.
Taking a step forward, her legs wobbled beneath her. Dagger supposed it had taken more out of her than she suspected it would, but knew she must go. Pushing the remains of what everyone thought was a sturdy door out of the way, she saw stray arms without bodies, a foot without a limb, and bodies without heads. Depending on the angle things hit you, depended on your injuries. Seeing the gruesome power of the wave, she bit her lip, hoping she didn't make the mistake in killing her own people.
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Steiner threw off his helmet, shaking the water out of it, before sturdily putting it back on his head. His eyes were extremely blurry, and he couldn't see more than ten feet of blur in front of him. Very unsteady, he stood up, though immediately wishing he hadn't. Sitting back down he closed his eyes and took in a watery breath, feeling around for the sword he was certain he had lost.
What happened? He wondered in his head. Just before a giant wave woke him from his slumber, he had been knocked backwards by a guard... He must have passed out. But how had a giant wave been conjured there in the first place? Confusion then swept over him faster than the water as he tried to shift positions. There was a load of pain engulfing his whole being at the moment, and he figured there would be a lot of bruising. He had woken up from the icy chill of the wave, smashing him into a wall. His armor, sturdier than the pitiful guards on duty downstairs, had saved his very life, and for that he was exceptionally grateful.
Unfortunately, when he opened his eyes, his vision was no better off, so he took to examining himself with his hands, to make sure nothing was openly bleeding. He felt a few cracks in the armor, and cringed, hoping no more random waves came out that day. There were a few spots where the knight knew he was bleeding, and could see very well, even through the fuzz of his vision, that he was loosing blood quickly. But there was nothing he could do, therefore Steiner closed his eyes, for the first time in a long time, admitting enough defeat to wait for assistance he hoped would come.
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His eyes lessened into slits as he tried to focus in on the object appearing out of thin air.
'What is that?' He wondered to himself, confused in the least. But when the beautiful, but knowingly deadly, aqua began to fill the air in the form of a wave, his eyes widened. Though he wasn't sure how exactly it was getting there he knew that he had to get himself, and his comrade behind him out of there.
Stumbling, he whipped around, and grabbed Blanks gloves with his own, holding them with an amazing grip. A yell erupted from the redhead - his arm and hand must have been broken; the pressure the blonde was admitting was probably a painful amount.
"Whatever the fuck happens, Blank," his eyes sparkled with a seriousness the emerald eyed thief wasn't aware his best friend possessed, "Don't let go!"
"Zidane -" but it was too late, the redhead had used half of his pitiful breath, in an attempt to question the blonde, his azure eyes squeezed shut, body rigid as though ready for a mouthful of impact; his friend was also very very right.
They were engulfed by what felt like liquid ice. It froze their bodies almost instantly, so they were so shocked they couldn't quite move to try and swim. It wasn't as though it would have mattered much if they could have, because the force pounded them against a wall very quickly. The direction, ever changing, shifted them through a large doorway, and Blank and Zidane felt their grip on the other quickly begin to slip.
The older thief made a vain attempt to pull the smaller one closer, so that he could get a better grip on him, but the wave flattened Zidane against a wall, Blank in the unfortunate path of a doorway. With a crack no one heard, Blank's forearm, being broken before, splintered out of his skin, though not completely apart, and with that he was swept away, unable to bear keeping his grip any longer. He was slammed into a wall, bubbles from his last breath escaping his lips as his world dimmed.
Blackness splotched his vision like paint splattered on a canvas, and his conscious mind began to lose it's strong grip on reality as he floated away into a painless, warm area that felt like heaven. He wasn't sure he exactly wanted to leave this place, but somewhere in his mind, it screamed for him to wake up: it told him he was only going unconscious.
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With such a little weight, and being the smallest member of both good and evil, Vivi was the easiest to whip around. The water tangoed with him, as though it was all simply a game, like a ball of string for a cat. That's what Vivi seemed to be for the water. He was bounced, tackled, rammed into things, and eventually, like the owner of that cat, taking the string away, some fate that favored Vivi in the world (or perhaps not depending on the outcome) hung him up on a beam towards the ceiling towards the end of the wave, surely put out of death's path.
The poor mage was beaten up pretty badly. And though nothing was yet to be broken, bruises were already forming on his body, and it was apparent from all the rips in his clothing that he was pretty injured. There wasn't a lot he could do about this, being barely awake, and clinging to the beam unconsciously.
Unfortunately for the owner of the glowing yellow eyes: he was afraid of heights. When he finally came around, realizing that he was indeed not dead, he glanced around at the moist place, and coughed. The dust in there had to find a place to go, and it seemed to be with Vivi at such a height. He noticed this when the beam he was sitting upon showed signs of sagging... That is, it cracked.
His eyes widened as he saw how far he was off the ground. The floor began to spin and looked more like a vortex than stone. He tried to shut his eyes, in an attempt not to watch, but another snapping noise broke through his attempted-calm reverie, and caused his eyes to shoot open at neck-breaking speed once more.
He attempted, though in vain, to scoot to a part of the beam not cracked, but it was no good. The wood gave out and crumbled, the rot being moisted, allowing it to fall apart. He hung for the sake of his life, but the whole beam began to crumble out of the wall.
With a scream, he plummeted to the floor, and with a hard smack hit the stone, the wood, though rotting, was still hard, collapsing ontop of him. His world went completely blank, and for a moment, his mind seemed suspended above his body, looking at his measly existance, wondering if his soul should break free, or give him another chance.
That's when he completely blanked out, and let go of the pain, cold, and fear of reality.
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Quina sat upon the floor, tilting his head back and forth looking rather confused. His dripping tongue hung out of his mouth as he heard the echoes of water dripping off of the dark walls. Silence swarmed over the corridors, as though no one was still alive. This didn't effect Quina, however he refused to think of the possibility of blood dripping along with that water.
With a quiver, he stood up, the wave blasting him into a wall, creating a crumbled mess of stone on the floor after he fell out of the hole he created, and though he bore injuries those didn't seem to effect him either. Walking down the hall, he kept his eyes straight, his tongue from flying all over the place, in fear of seeing or tasting something he didn't particularily want to notice.
The only two things on his mind were to find food, and to find his friends. Therefore, he set out through the halls, his oversized fork at a ready incase he had to shovel through people, or kill someone.
"No one here..." He cried out, frustrated no matter what hall he turned down it was all the same. "This trick I sure!" He decided, wandering down yet another hall, stepping over the broken stone and crumpled bodies. His rage began to build until he was charging through the area, everyone still partially conscious absolutely baffled about how a Qu was actually tromping around, uneffected by the magic.
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Being back at the restistance was refreshing. It seemed like her role increased when she was actually around all of her friends, who she discovered that so dearly she wished to be with them whenever she was away. But then again, when she was without her friends, she was with the person she wanted to be with more than anything in the world at that moment in time.
Fratley, for all she knew was dead... He had been with the king, where she wanted to be oh so badly, but Freya had to leave. He had commanded her to do so, and so she had gone obediantly enough. If only news God damn spread within this world, she might have been able to figure out if the King of Bermecia had fallen... his guards with him.
She had done everything she could to protect her kingdom - to be a knight like she had promised Fratley she would do... In return she forced him to promise he would live to see her again. He had agreed, as he had every other time he had left her, going out on an errand, or adventure she could not take part in. But this time it was different... This time it was not a game.
A lot like Dagger had been thinking to this point, before Fratley had made her leave - to, in a round about way, flee the wondrous city of Bermecia after the guards had flooded the place more than the rains, Freya had thought this was all so surreal it could be a game. A sport in which it pertained to winning or losing... But now she saw, after being out and witnessing the horrible things she had witnessed before stumbling upon the restistance that made her grow stronger and more mature longer than five years ago, that it was actually between life and death.
It didn't matter in the end who won or lost... The only thing that they had to deal with, when it came to loss, is losing life as well... It wasn't about control or power that determined the loser or winner, like she had once thought... She knew if they were to win... Kuja would have to die... And if they were to lose... They must die... Otherwise, the war was not won...
"Freya..." There was a gurgle of her name that knocked her senses back into her.
Very slowly, she moved her head around, trying to glare through her silver locks of hair to find where the voice came from. It was weak, but she knew it must not be an enemy for they didn't know who she was.
Slowly rising to her knees by a push up position, (because she was laying on her stomach) the Bermecian looked around once more. Dead bodies were scattered around the room, and a surprising amount of water and blood seeped through the cracks in the floors. Everything from the blood to the wood smelt damp, causing Freya to shudder. The scene before her was not a pretty one.
Swords, spears, arrows, and any other weapon was swiped up in that typhoon, and along with people, the sharp metals must have cut them even to the extent of death. It was disturbing when she stood at a higher level than the dead, looking at who's lives couldn't be spared.
She tried to remember what had happened, but to no avail... She had no memory after summoning a dragon to go to Dagger's aid. Other than that, she was absolutely puzzled.
Through the grotesque painting of still life, there was a small lift of a hand, and Freya knew right away, though the chestnut hair clung to her face and wet floor, it was Beatrix. Hurriedly, she rushed over, not being injured at all from the unknown force she couldn't remember.
Blood pooled around the woman, as she breathed hoarsely. The rasps of her intakes of oxygen made Freya flinch whenever it caught in her throat, and she coughed up blood onto her face and the floor. Knowingly, she rolled the knight over so she didn't choke on her own blood, and saw a distastrious thing...
She always thought of Beatrix as strong and indestructable. No one could touch her, and it was even considered to say she was even more skillful with a sword than Cid used to be in his prime. Unfortunately, her whole side seemed to be blown out as though someone infused her kidney with a bomb.
After Beatrix was stabbed, the wave washed over the knight and the soldier who stabbed her. He wouldn't allow himself to be deprived of his sword, so hung on for dear life. Unfortunately for the girl, it was too bumpy of a ride to allow the sword to come out. Therefore, she was given no mercy when she was whipped about, the sword slashing up her side before it finally ripped out of her body by cutting through tissue and skin until it sliced out of the side of her stomach. If she didn't get help, she would die soon.
Freya didn't talk as she summoned a dragon. She didn't have a lot of strength, so the dragon's recovery spell wouldn't do the brunette much good, though it would give her enough time to find Dagger. "Just try not to move, alright?" Freya commanded more than asked to do a favor, but she got her point across all the same.
Standing stiffly, she turned on the watery surface, a squeak erupting in the champer, and moved to leave, before Beatrix's glove grasped her ankle.
"Do not leave me here to die..."
That was all it took. Freya understood Beatrix thought she would die, and from the condition she was in, the Bermecian couldn't really argue that fact. So she picked the girl up in her arms, and moved slowly and steadily to find help.
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Water and blood ran out of his hair. The Genome stood, and looked around at the dark chamber. The air was crisp and some of the water was frozen. For some reason the temperature had dropped profusely outside. Ice shined under his feet, and the corridor was dark. He stumbled over objects he wasn't sure what they were, but didn't have any desire to find out.
Wind crept past him in an eerie sort of way, as though something big were about to happen: the calm before the storm. But considering what had happened - he figured the storm was already over... Then again, finding his way back to his comrades and getting them the hell out would be an adventure he wasn't sure anyone was ready to tackle. His head swam, and he was weak with dizziness he couldn't shake off, but his determination to find what happened to Blank after the redhead had let go was enough to motivate him to keep going.
Feeling around with his arms in front of him, he tried to find some sort of light, though everything was black. For a moment, he thought perhaps it was his eyes, but soon found that he could see something of a light in the distance.
Drip...
Drip...
The only sound in the background had an effect on him. Even his own footsteps didn't seem to have more of a sound than the constant drip of liquid. He shuddered, and continued to move forward. His breath was sharp, and every time his eyes moved in their sockets, they seemed to ache from the cold. His feet seemed numb as he moved forward, a moist dust settling upon everything after being stirred.
The light began to get brighter and brighter, the world warmer and warmer, until he came upon a room looking mostly undamaged. There were stairs on the far side, and torches that were being held, and that lit the halls were breathing a hot fire, the tips dancing higher and higher it seemed, every second Zidane looked upon them.
"We need to find them - this is a prime time so that they can't get away. Two dreamers and one Princess... No doubt other valuable resistance members!" One guard hissed. He was tall and thin, looking more like a walking skeleton in rusting armor than a human.
"I'm surprised they brought the Princess at all... How long has she been hiding away?"
Princess? There was a Princess about? Who had the resistance found in his short time away from them? He wondered if she was a complete bitch, beautiful, or a wonderful fighter, hardened by the years of war. The Princess of where? How long had she been running away? Why would she come to place such as this? So many questions ran through his mind, but he couldn't go closer, in fear of being found out.
He backed away, trying not to make a sound, only to stumble upon something and fall backwards. When a guard poked his head out, he hid from view, pretending to be dead on the floor. Soon the door, somehow still standing after the blast, was slammed shut again, only a light glowing from the cracks, giving the room a look of mystery, and a white glow similar to that of the moon.
Though this shine was nothing like the moon in ways. Zidane remembered being under the moon, being a place of happiness. It wasn't being cooped up in fear of something, and he was there under the stars and the beautiful light illuminating what would be a calm darkness in such a way that suggested romance or happiness. He remembered the night with Dagger, and though they were out on scouting duty, they were having fun. It seemed as though there wasn't a care in the world.
The long glass caressed their legs as they moved, it being more silky than scratchy. The way the water trickled from somewhere not that far off, and how the crickets and bugs were so serene that they created a music one could only hear from nature. The trees and mountains in the distance looked more like a painted portrait than real life, and the breeze seemed warmer and smelled of freshness. Nothing mucky or damp, dusty or scratchy was on the wind. They were laughing and enjoying the other's company, Zidane reciting lines from what he thought was his own creation, while Dagger giggled at his faults, though sent him fond smiles in the moonlight.
The way the light captured her dark chocolate eyes, and the way the breeze caused her hair to frame her face just perfectly. The light gave her porcelain skin a radiance the sun could never achieve, and everything seemed more beautiful.
Here in the disgusting bottom depths of a castle no one cared to be around anymore, that caused fear and pain, he turned his head to look into the eyes of someone pale and clammy. Someone who was dead. He got up as slowly as he could, not wanting to see something so frightening again.
He remember the faces in his dream. The faces of these people, when he seemed so much smaller. It must have been when he was younger. The face of the dead man on the ground, scared but covered with bravery for the people with him. The woman with long golden hair, and the most beautiful face he had ever seen, a thin but strong body, her face in fear, tears leaking out of her sparkling sapphire eyes, as her angry shouts called out to leave them alone. When she turned and looked at the miniature version of Zidane, her eyes were full of a lovingness he didn't think was possible...
And then she was struck down too. Their faces were pale and clammy, just the same way... Though he didn't understand who the two in the dream were, their flesh and faces, unnatural ways their body's lay on the ground would not leave his mind as he stumbled, trying to get away from the weird glow of the room.
There were footsteps in the hall, quick and small, as though whoever was producing them was frightened and trying to escape. He cautiously walked towards it, and out of nowhere, the darkness seemingly thrusted a young girl into him, with a force that knocked him off of his feet, her ontop of him. Though she tried to push off of him, and he tried to fight her off, they managed to get tangled up, and not be able to move.
That's when Zidane finally realized who she was, and shifted her carefully so she could stand, "Dagger, thank God you're okay!"
She stood, her eyes wide at seeing him, and before he could fully stand she threw her arms around him. "I'm so thankful you're okay! I can't find anyone!" Tears pricked her eyes, but she told herself she wouldn't cry when she found the first person who was an ally.
"What did you do, Dagger?" He asked, his question making her body go rigid in his arms as she pulled back, refusing to look him in the eye. "What happened? I just don't understand, I mean... How did you do that?"
"It's just a spell..." She bit her lip, trying to be as vague as she could without sounding mean - it wasn't his fault, and she couldn't be angry at him for that, "Let's go find the others."
"Of course... But let's not try and run okay? There are guards just a few rooms over, ready to set out to find me or Vivi, and some Princess."
"What?"
"That reminds me! Who are they looking for? Surely if they're looking for her, she has to be on our side. Who is she, Dagger? Did she come with you?" The questions flooded out of him, but she wouldn't answer anything.
Finally he shut up and put a hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?"
"Let's just keep moving, okay? I'm sure someone will be able to answer your questions..."
It seemed to suit him enough, and as she walked though she didn't want to be questioned, she realized perhaps it was good she found Zidane first. Everyone else besides Vivi would have been angry with her - they would have known what she had done.
Biting her lip, she glanced at the blonde. Vivi wouldn't have been a good canidate either - she would have had to lead... And right now she didn't have a level enough head to do so... She was at a loss of what to do. His breathing was calm, and he stared straight forward, not allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the horrifying sights around them.
Turning to look forward again, she strained her ears listening for some sort of a sound. The more silence she met, the more worried she became...
What would happen, if her defense happened to turn out being the biggest mistake of her life?
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A/N: I know it was pretty uneventful, but next chapter... Oh I promise next chapter will be very interesting :D
I hope you guys are all enjoying so far, and I hope you REVIEW! :D It would be much appreciated!
-zesty-
