Before you venture out into the world,
consider whether you go to persuade your goal -
or to run away from your fears.
Sylphiel fastened the clasp of her cloak and pulled her gloves on. Even if the weather was mild it was still cool, and it would be a long walk. That he intended to accompany her had come as a surprise, but she had quickly seen the logic of it. Besides she wasn't sure the thought of leaving him behind, alone in her home, would have been too thrilling. His feet carefully wrapped in cloth to protect them from the chafing of the tattered shoes, and a makeshift cloak falling from his shoulders he was already waiting for her. She turned towards the kitchen table and ever so carefully lifted the plant from its jar, casting the simple mist spell at the roots to keep them from getting dehydrated during the journey. The leaves of the living plant ruffled slightly, like the feathers of a restless hunting falcon, then settled. As if it had been made out of most delicate glass she carried the seedling in both hands.
Once outside, locking the front door became a problem. She didn't want to hold the by now rather impressive plant with only one hand, and she couldn't get the key out of her pocket as long as she held it. Without a word her follower reached out with his hand. She hesitated, then mentally shrugged. If he'd been found fit enough to guard Flagoon's legacy for so long it probably couldn't hurt to let him hold it. She surrendered it to him, gasping as it suddenly moved to wrap its roots around his hand and wrist. He took a step back in surprise, then recovered, studying the sprout curiously. It had really grown since he last saw it.
Finally able to dig the keys out of her pocket she locked the door and turned around. It was obvious the headstrong spirit had appointed its original guardian to carry it, so she just shrugged and walked past him to once again head for the dead city.
Has it really been just a week? she thought to herself as they walked down the road. It felt so much longer. Everywhere around them the signs of spring showed; drowsy flowers blinking against the sunlight, green grass showing between the brown dry weeds of last fall. The bright sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees, painting the gravel with moving lights and shadows. The road didn't seem as long as it had that night a week ago, not by far.
They walked in silence, both lost in thoughts.
He studied his surroundings as they walked, constantly finding small fascinating things to grab his attention. Eris had never let him travel in such a mundane way; on those few occasions she had needed him by her side, showing him off and throwing Rezo's name around to gain advantages, they had always traveled in a covered coach, curtains closed.
Still far from in perfect condition walking was tiring, but the intriguing surrounds made it worth it. The seedling was surprisingly heavy, the roots resting firmly against his skin tingling with magic.
"It really looks different by daylight, doesn't it..?" she commented. He nodded, torn from his thoughts by her voice.
"And it's not as cold anymore," he agreed. She nodded and they walked in silence for a while.
"It's difficult to believe it's only been week," she noted, her gaze seemingly lost in the scenery the awakening spring presented.
"It feels much longer."
He studied her through the corner of his eye, then shifted the seedling somewhat.
"Yes, it does. A lot of things has happened since then."
Yet another long moment of silence.
He realized she was as uncertain about the future as he was. For some illogical reason that felt comforting. It might mean they were twice as lost between them, but at least he wasn't alone in his confusion.
She walked on, leading the way, the gravel crunching under the soles of her boots. So many times she had traveled down this road together with her family. Last time she had walked it towards Sairaag she had been terrified, not certain she would ever return. Yet here she was, once again approaching that monument of Death the city had become, her life forever entwined with Sairaag's, the pull of destiny impossible to ignore. And by her side walked the very person she had so feared then, her Shadow of the Past, the monster of her nightmares come back to life.
Only now she wasn't frightened.
The last week spent in his company had made her realize he wasn't quite the monster she had considered him to be, but rather a creature so lost in the madness and violence around him he had understood nothing else. More of a child than a monster she pondered. Ruthless like a child, certainly, but also strangely innocent in his evil, with a child's ability to find the most simple of things intriguing.
As always mysteriously able to sense her eyes on him he turned to give her a questioning look. She just smiled slightly and turned back to study the fields and groves spreading our in the softly billowing landscape around her.
"My mother used to say that when a dragonbird flies through the disc of the sun the next day will be very hot."
He looked up at the animal indicated, a small bird with colorful plumage and translucent bat wings sweeping across the sky, hanging in clear silhouette in front of the sun for a moment before soaring away.
"Is it true?"
She shrugged and kept walking.
"I don't know. Never really thought about it."
The last hour's light conversation might have been pretty empty, but it made the walk less stiff and uncomfortable. The ground was dry here, no new grass or flowers growing, as if the land itself was cursed, paralyzed with horror over the massive amounts of deaths concentrated to this spot in space and time.
Perhaps there will be flowers here next spring, she thought to herself. If Flagoon can cleanse the land and bring back its life. I hope so.
"Is that like the saying with spider?" he mused, trying to grasp the almost forgotten saying from the stack of memories not his own.
"That if you kill a spider, next day it will rain?"
She nodded thoughtfully.
"I guess. I wonder where all those old sayings come from anyway."
He shrugged, certainly not holding the answer to that question. They had been walking for hours now, afternoon sun giving the crest of the hill before them a golden halo. The grass was still brown and shaggy here, the ground dry and lifeless. He glanced up at the sky again, but the dragonbird was gone, strong wings already having carried it far away.
That must be an easy life, he thought. To just be able to fly away. No troubles or worries in the world. Just eternal freedom...
Then they reached the crest of the hill and the desolate ruins of Sairaag spread out before them. Mercilessly exposed by the bright sunlight the remains of the city huddled, like the blackened skeleton of some ancient beast.
He stopped to stare, suddenly realizing this latest hill had been the outer rim of the crater surrounding what had once been a city. For the first time fully grasping the width of utter destruction he felt dizzy, thoughts unable to quite fathom what his eyes told him.
Did I do this?
It seemed strangely unreal, as if the memory was only a half-forgotten dream. He felt as if something broke inside, splitting into two separated minds. Part of him remembered with crystal clarity how he had plunged the city into the fire, how right and natural it had seemed, actions unaffected by scruples or conscience. Another part shied away in sheer horror, for the first time realizing the full consequences of his actions. Every single ruin down there had been a house, every house harboring a family. People like the blue-haired girl by his side, innocent and unknowing of his pain. They hadn't deserved to die... or had they? The impact of past and present crashing together, demanding an answer, seemed to tear his mind apart, causing howling confusion and downright pain.
Then there was another presence in his mind, soothingly quelling the storm-whipped waves of confusion, lending comfort and strength. He blinked and looked down at the seedling resting in his hand, glowing with soft holy light, sending quiet consoling magic through him.
Suddenly remembering Sylphiel he turned to see her stand staring down at the city, much like he had, silent tears running down her cheeks. Whatever horror he had felt watching the destruction must be as nothing compared to her pain. She had lived in that city all her life, losing it all in a single stroke that night almost three years ago. For the first time beginning to understand another creature's pain, he felt that sickening, strange feeling of guilt rise within him again. He wished he could say something, do something to make her pain go away, but he knew no words could possibly hide the macabre graveyard below or bring back that which was gone forever. Feeling more lost and helpless than ever he did the only thing he could think of and uncertainly held out the glowing seedling for her to take, knowing she needed its comforting magic more than he did. She looked up in surprise through her tears, then slowly reached out to take the offered relic. Smoothly untangling itself from his hand it wrapped its vines softly around her wrist and fingers.
It was difficult not to hate him confronted with the sight of her ravaged home, more difficult than ever. Yet the presence of Flagoon was soothing, whispering a promise of peace at last.
"Come," she managed to get out, then turned away and started walking in the direction of the cracked dome looming over the center of the city.
The quotes are from Oshiro-sama's Letters to a Red Priest (in other words, I made 'em up) and can't be used without my permission. If you ask nicely and give me credit you'll most likely get my permission, but anyways...
Let's close yet another circle here, return to the beginning...
Once again I have to thank my wonderful fellow Swedish weirdo Jen for encouraging me every step of the way on this, and providing me with endless inspiration through our mature and civilized conversations...
Also, thanks a lot P-chan, for actually liking this thing despite the lack of Gourry in it, and for making me the insane person I am today. Kram!
And finally, we should all thank Syrena, for taking the time to beta read every part of this story even though she was often strapped for time, making it all readable...
OK, show's over. Nothing more to see here. Shoo, off with you!
20 | Story Index | Fanfiction