Cecil Harvey: "Desertion" (3/3)
Title: Crusader's Run: Desertion (part 3 of 3)
Theme + Number: Silence #37, Truth #80, Nightfall #92
Claim: Cecil Harvey
Characters/Pairings included: Rydia, Cecil
Rating: T
Warnings: General violence
Summary: Her mother, her home, the loss of the life she had ever known; Rydia awakens only to face this cruel reality and is forced to deal with the very man who had taken all of it away.
Index
"Quotes" = Dialogue
"Quotes & Italics" = Thoughts
*Words* = Sound Effects
Italics = Flashback Scene
**Asterisk** = Time Passes and/or Change of POV
-------------
Groaning, Rydia wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling, her mind foggy and full of static haze. She blinks rapidly, adjusting to the incredible brightness, and soon enough her vision clears yet her surroundings only become more strange and alien to her.
“Oh, finally awoken have you?”
Rydia turns towards the voice and sees a old lady seated down by her bedside while holding a wet rag in her hands, an easy smile etched on her wrinkled face. She looks pass the woman and sees another girl, really skinny and who looks to be about 5 or 6 years older than herself, standing a few feet away with her arms crossed and her expression hard. Rydia tries sitting up from the bed but plops back down, the long disuse of her muscles and limbs bringing about the following result.
“There's no need to overexert yourself, dear. Your safe here, so just relax.”
Rydia brings the covers up to her face as she gazes around the room once more before squeaking out, “... W-where am I?”
“This is the oasis village of Kaipo and your inside the Miran Inn. My name is Marie, the innkeeper, and this is my granddaughter, Farrah, who helps with the upkeep of this place,” the lady explains as she first gestures to herself and then to the teenager who gives a curt nod in response, “I hope we didn't frighten you, dear. It's our policy not to intrude on our guests, but neither you nor your companion were answering our calls so we thought it best to make an exception.”
“What? A friend..?”
Puzzled, it isn't until the girl glances to her utmost right before she spots the person in question. There lies an unusual stranger sleeping soundlessly on the next bed besides her, his light features perfectly blending in and complimenting the warm background of the tranquil room. The first thing that strikes Rydia right away is the man's hair. Unlike the ragged gray the aged innkeeper sports, the strands that nip at his shoulders are the brilliant color of pure ivory. He still looks rather youthful, though the slight underlining creases found on his face give him a look of worn and weathered maturity. As Rydia watches the soft raise and fall of his chest, she takes notice that while the stranger's body is lean, it is also strong; somewhat similar to the farmers back in her village except he looks capable of doing more than simple fieldwork.
“He's a real heavy sleeper. Hasn't moved a single inch for all the time we've been here,” the teenager comments as she pushes the bridge of her glasses up with a finger, her expression growing a bit regretful as she ponders, “Guess it makes sense though, since you guys looked like warmed-over death when you first came in.”
Marie nods in agreement and slyly adds, “The two of you are free to stay for another night, so just focus now on getting well again.”
Her mind still feeling weary and muddled, the girl is about to lie back down but notices Farrah looking more sour and resentful than before, “What? Not enough for you to be thankful for? But then again, we're just doing all this at our own expense, right?”
Not expecting the sudden hostility, Rydia hesitantly responses, “Oh..! U-m...”
“Must you start this again, Farrah?” Marie questions, turning to address her granddaughter as the caller looks on.
“I start this because you keep doing this! Each and every time, you're just begging to be taken advantage of, and I'm just blown away as to why you haven't learned yet!”
“Farrah,” the innkeeper stresses her name heavily, “Do you honestly believe these folk are the same as them? That they would go so far just to deceive us out of a free meal and bed?”
Unable to grasp an immediate response, the teenager cools down considerably, though the look on her face indicates her unwillingness to simply let the matter go, “... Well, no. But why is it that our regulars who've helped keep the business running for years have to pay good money while these stranglers get to stay for free? How exactly is this fair for them? They'd be real displeased, and have every right to be, if word of all your charity cases ever got out.”
The innkeeper lets out a sigh that bellows infinite patience before speaking, “If you truly feel this way, that just lending out a helping hand endangers our livelihood, then by all means you should be the one to tell them so and have them evicted immediately.”
The teenager flinches back, scowls and retorts, “That's not fair, grandma, saying that now and leaving me to do the dirty work while you still get to play the saint.”
“Such an awkward child you are, expecting me to follow your advice when you're unable to do the same,” Marie throws back at the teenager while she wearily shakes her head, “If you have no further suggestions, then why not try being more productive and getting some actual work done around here instead of carrying on with your complaints?”
Farrah directs a sharp glare towards the woman for a second before she gives a reply laced with sarcasm, “Sure. Since we're being all-so helpful, how about I go readjust the budget now and start cutting back on all of our own needs? Maybe then we won't be hitting the red for this month: yet again.”
A resounding *Bam!* fills the room following the teenager's exit. Marie scowls with disapproval, her eyes staring at the open door as if still witnessing the afterimages of her granddaughter's departure. She then turns to address the bedridden girl, “You'll have to excuse her. She's really a gentle girl who cares for the plight of others more than she let's on, but our recent troubles have caused her to become more distrustful, more wary of the people around her.”
Rydia looks down. She wasn't able to follow the entire conversation but she does pick up on the main issue behind their argument, “But having us here causes problems for you, right?”
Smiling a bit sadly, Marie replies, “You needn't fret over it, dear. Such a matter is for us adults to resolve. For now, just get some rest.”
As the aged innkeeper stands and makes ready to leave, something out of place within the room catches the caller's attention. A cross, or something resembling one, can be found leaning against the wall on the far side of the stranger's bed. A vague feeling prompts Rydia to stop looking yet her eyes can't help but be drawn to the object. Having long realized it's only a small part of a greater whole, she continues drinking in every detail that's within her view, tracing each fine line of its unique structure until the crafted metal becomes thoroughly imprinted into her mind. Then suddenly, cold recognition hits Rydia like a tidal wave; her senses instantly numb as they leave with the breath that escapes her.
***
The breath of fire saturating the air. Only a sliver of steel remained gleaming at the base of the blade, the thick black blood overflowing freely down its edge and dripping heavily onto the once-green earth.
***
Her body quakes like a lone, late autumn leaf as the ignited memories begin reawakening.
***
Bearing the shape of a serpent was the man in radiant blue, his open mouthpiece the only indication that he was indeed a human being. The roar of fire and the savagery it brings. The dragon knight stood above it all, one of the monsters that had razed and desecrated her home still impaled on his extended fang, like it were the natural order of things.
***
Rydia forces her eyes shut yet it does nothing to stop the hot flashes from coming.
***
It was sweltering all around her, yet gazing up at his form made her feel bone-chillingly cold. The harborer of death, bringer of the hellfire, the man donning the mask of a demon or perhaps it was a demon masquerading as a man. The wake of fire illuminates and ashes all. Everything but the glistening blackness of the shadow knight towering before her.
***
“ah-!” A mute cry, her last form of resistance before she looks back and finds herself breaking. Such a tiny sound doesn't even reach her own ears yet somehow her plead is answered. Delicate hands rest on her shoulders and the caller instinctively clings to the presence like a life preserver, burying her face deep into the person's bosom.
To feel the tangible touch of another, to be whispered soft and sweet nothings, to immerse herself in this warm embrace: all of these things help remind her body on where she's at. That she's living here in the present time, a place unreachable from her memories of the past.
It takes awhile before Rydia is able to settle down and when she does, the girl looks up and finds the person whom she's clinging to is Marie. In actuality, the innkeeper is at a complete loss regarding the girl's situation and the reason behind her extreme episode. But through the long years of similar practices and experience, the old woman is able to display an anchor of calmness and certainty.
“It must have been very difficult,” Marie settles on saying as she continues stroking the back of the girl's head while grasping for the right words to say, “... Sometimes the best remedy to unburden your troubles is just by talking to someone who's willing to listen. So if there's anything you feel the need to say, I'm all ears.”
Slowly, Rydia pulls away. It felt so good, unbearably so, just hearing those words. But she knows there isn't anything this kind, elderly lady can do that will ever make things right again. She's grown old, far too old now to be believing in that type of fantasy, “It's nothing...”
“... Is that right? Then I suppose this has nothing to do with your companion by any chance?” Marie hazards and upon seeing the look of open amazement on the girl's face, she smiles in self-satisfaction. Despite herself, Rydia can feel her hopes rising; if the woman is able to understand this much, then surely there's something she can do to help save her. However, those naive expectations are soon dashed as the innkeeper continues, “I thought so. Well, not to worry. He's simply exhausted from the toll the desert has taken upon him. Soon enough, he'll recover his strength and be up and about in no time.”
The woman pats her knee in a reassuring manner, yet to Rydia it feels as if her legs are being weighed down under a pile of stones. Oblivious to the girl's state of mind, Marie continues without missing a beat, “To think the two of you managed to survive a trek through the desert... It's very fortunate that you both were able to arrive safely into Kaipo.”
“N-No..! That-” the caller starts to say but abruptly trails off as a vague, yet familiar scene flashes in her mind. Darkness and light: it was all the blurry image comprised of, but it was enough to recall that dire situation, “... That can't be right...”
Continuous denial raids Rydia's thoughts even after Marie exits the room and leaves her alone with the slumbering stranger.
As if expecting the man to spring out of bed at any given moment, the caller keeps an excessive watch over him. However, she starts feeling more weary with each passing second as the rush of stimulation drains from her body. Rydia lies back down just to give her head a resting place but this in turn causes her eyes to drool down involuntarily. Up and down, up and down in a constant cycle, each raise of her eyelids coming slower and lower than the previous time until they at last close completely.
*********
Rydia snaps awake and finds the bed next to hers empty, the covers on top sprawled untidily. That man isn't anywhere in the room, though the sword at his bedside indicates he simply didn't get up and leave. Carefully, she gets on her feet and wobbles a bit, still feeling a little groggy but otherwise much better than in the past few days prior.
She takes one more look around, reassuring herself that she is indeed alone. The caller then goes over to one of the two windows in the room, unfastens the lock and swings the window panel up in the hopes of catching an afternoon breeze, but she immediately closes it upon receiving the dry desert wind instead. Still feeling unreasonably hot, she glances outside yet most of her view is obscured by a cluster of nearby buildings.
The girl steps away and moves to the other window, finding the view to be far more spacious. From what she can tell, the inn appears to be an L-shaped building, though in actuality it is T-shaped in structure. The entrance can easily be seen from this vantage point and thanks to the large, connecting windows that run across the entire entryway, she can also make out a fair majority of what's inside. Simple, yet personalized decor lines the walls of the corridor. And though she isn't able to see it from her position, the narrow passageway ends at the reception desk where the fork then splits into two halls running in opposite directions. It's within both of these wings where the guest rooms are located.
As she continues looking outside, Rydia catches sight of the stranger coming back to the inn while carrying a tall stack of white covers and clean linens. No sooner does he step inside before Farrah stops him at the entryway and takes the pile in exchange for another dirty load. The man then leaves again with laundry in hand and walks back in the direction to where the oasis resides.
Rydia blinks slowly as if coming out of a trance; it was definitely a sight she wasn't expecting. Having seen the stranger perform such everyday duties causes a tight, unsettling feeling to well up inside. She feverishly shakes her head and stops the line of thought altogether. Even with this contradiction, he's still the same murderer who slaughtered her entire village. It doesn't mean a thing and it won't make a difference; all it does now is make her head ache.
The caller rests her arms and chin on the windowsill and gazes outside, the time quickly flying by. Her mind remains empty even as her eyes take in the scenery and the people who happen to be walking within the area. And during the times Rydia is able to see the stranger, she would simply sit there and watch him as he works.
Sometimes the stranger would leave the inn again for an hour or so and come back carrying goods like household utensils, jugs of water and other such foodstuff. Sometimes he would round one of the corners inside the building and vanish from her line of sight, the buzz of activity out in the hall still apparent even after his disappearance. Sometimes either Marie or Farrah would be seen instructing the shadow knight or just exchanging simple pleasantries with him. Whatever he was doing the stranger was always on the move, never seeming to take a breather.
There are no shadows in his actions; no ill intentions or hidden agendas that would justly explain why someone like him is exerting all of this effort. He's simply as he appears. The stranger is just earnestly working.
Rydia was so focused on him that she had failed to see Marie waving to her from a distance, the old woman having spotted her from across the building. The girl finally takes notice and is about to greet the woman back but her uplifted hand freezes as the shadow knight turns to see whom Marie is waving to. Their eyes meet for only a brief moment before the caller breaks contact by ducking down from the window.
Her heart races with rapid anxiety as her mind repeatedly tells her how stupid she's been. All this time she never considered her situation or given thought to the shadow knight's inevitable return. Now it's too late and any minute he'll come waltzing back in.
A set of angry footsteps making their way closer to her puts Rydia back on full alert. But what comes next is unexpected as the caller hears a familiar voice sound from outside the room, “Okayyyy... I'm not going to ask why you're out here staring at the door like it were the gallows or something, but if you have that sort of free time, how about using it to help with the dinner preparations?”
“Yes...” a muffled voice, distinctly male, responds closely through the door, “Just give me a moment and I'll be right over.”
A huff of irritation is made before Farrah's voice is heard again, “Well fine, but hurry up! There's still plenty of work to be done around here.”
The sound of stepping feet gradually grows fainter and after a few seconds, the door creaks open and Rydia hastily turns away. She hears someone take one step into the room and she can feel eyes lingering on her back. Two beats pass, then a man's voice speaks to her from across the room, “You're awake... So how are you feeling?
Still a bit ill..?
… Probably tired, I bet.”
A short pause, then the stranger continues in a casual manner, “You know, I haven't caught your name yet.”
“That's because you never asked,” the caller thinks, annoyed. She holds back from saying the thought out loud and fixes her eyes on the wall in front of her, using her irritation to help fuel her silence.
Several seconds pass by and the stranger lets out a deflated sigh. After a moment he speaks again, no longer with the fake lightness in his voice, “I'm sorry. Truly sorry for all the pain you've endured... Your mother, the people of your village, everything... Everything that's happened to you I am solely to blame, so that's why... I...
Even if you can't forgive me... At least, let me protect you...”
Rydia had been quiet throughout the man's entire admission, not because of a stubborn refusal to talk but rather she had been listening to him speak. After receiving no response, the stranger steps out and she is once more alone inside the room.
“... So it was him after all...” the caller thinks dejectedly to herself. Even though she knew he was the culprit, somewhere deep down she must have wanted to believe otherwise. If only it was all a mistake then everything else would be so much easier to deal with. She wouldn't be caught in this confusion, she wouldn't have to hate him.
The man returns an hour after sunset and wordlessly goes to bed. Having received plenty of rest these past few days, Rydia is unable to sleep and stays up well into the night. But the long hours of darkness eventually start wearing her down and just as the girl feels her eyelids drooping, a distinct, clamoring ruckus coming from outside the inn reawakens her.
Rydia wearily looks towards the sound and is surprised to see the stranger is already awake and standing by the front window, his back pressed against the wall with his head turned just enough for him to peek outside. Her uneasiness is soon multiplied as she catches sight of the sheathed sword in the man's hand, the moonlight reflecting off a small metallic portion of the slightly revealed blade.
The shadow knight suddenly turns to her direction and Rydia quickly reacts by shutting her eyes and pretending to be asleep. If he had seen the girl was awake, the man gives no indication of having noticed as he only looks upon her for just a moment before he steps out of the room while closing the door behind him. The sound of his footsteps soon grows distant and the caller hurries to where the stranger was at.
What she sees outside are three aggravated, armor-cladded men trying to push pass Farrah and Marie who block the entryway into the inn. The soldiers' forceful attempts only last for a few more seconds before they cease as the shadow knight makes his appearance from down the corridor. They step away from the entrance as if to invite him outside, however, the man stops just shy from leaving walls of the building.
Though Rydia is too far away to be able to hear the group, the stranger says something to the women which causes their faces to deepen with dread. Marie stands there stunned and it takes Farrah's insistent prompting before the old woman moves from her spot.
After the two women retreat into the safety of the inn, the soldiers take a few steps towards the man, their encirclement around him shrinking a bit smaller. The long-faced soldier donning a helmet engages in a long, unheard dialogue with the shadow knight while the others look on.
The stranger shakes his head, his face stoic yet sober.
Helmet's mouth slips into a scowl, he asks another question.
The stranger gives a short reply, his expression unchanging.
Helmet stays deadly silent with a calculating look.
The bulky soldier with the bandanna straightens up, raising to his full height.
The headgear wearing soldier sharply interjects, gesturing wildly.
No immediate reply is made. Then, the shadow knight lays his palm to rest on the hilt of his sword.
He utters a single phrase.
The soldiers' goodwill vanishes in that instant and the air quickly grows thick with tension. They draw their weapons out, slow and methodical, and the stranger responds in kind. Yet nobody takes any further action in sparking the battle.
A few minutes pass and the men remain in this standstill. Rydia can at least understand why the stranger is on his guard but the soldiers' strategy baffles her. They already have the upper hand yet by exercising so much caution, the group makes no use of it. And they must know the man isn't dumb enough to openly attack them out in that wide-open area in this 3 on 1 fight.
But the caller soon finds out just how wrong she is. All of a sudden, something in the stranger's demeanor drastically changes and his expression turns grim. He reassesses the group in front of him, his eyes working. Then without warning he rushes towards Headgear, the furthest soldier from the pack.
Headgear responds by swinging his longsword down at his charging adversary but the man parries the attack away with the broad side of his blade and counters with a horizontal slice of his own. The soldier manages to pull back just far enough for the sword to whiff across his chest, however, he stumbles due to his displaced balance and hasty retreat. Before the shadow knight can capitalize, Helmet and Bandanna are already upon him, forcing the stranger to dodge the scimitar thrust to his stomach and narrowly duck under the mace strike meant to crush his ribcage. Helmet follows through with his lunge by delivering a fierce boot to the stranger's face, which causes Rydia to whine a bit upon witnessing the hit. But a well-guarded forearm and quick back step reduces much of the impact and the shadow knight is able to stand no worse for wear.
Bandanna, Headgear and Helmet get into closer formation in order to better coordinate their attacks. But the next move surprises both the soldiers and the battle's spectator as the stranger turns his back on the group and breaks out into a full run, sprinting back into the inn. Being swept up in the flow of battle, both Bandanna and Headgear follows, unheeding Helmet's orders as they chase after their fleeing adversary.
The shadow knight dashes through the narrow corridor, slashing away at the tables, portraits and other ornaments along the way. The fallen debris scarcely slows Bandanna or Headgear down yet it's enough to create the decisive gap, not between the pursuers and the pursued but between both soldiers who now vacate a few meters width of space.
Bandanna catches up to his opponent and rises his mace high, only a heartbeat away until he's within striking range. But just as the two men are about to pass the corridor's last window panel, it happens. Like the tide crashing into the cliff shores, the man lowers his center of gravity and skids to an abrupt stop, turning his body completely around in mid-slide while leaving his sword arm hanging back to its utmost extent. Such a sudden, seamless maneuver takes Rydia completely by surprise, so she isn't at all shocked to see Bandanna falter for just a split second at the unexpected action.
That slight hesitation is all it took to create a clear opening. The stranger's sword swings up in a crescent arc, tearing the tendons of Bandanna's left shoulder and causing a gush of blood to splash up into the ceiling. The dampened, yet heavy thud of the mace hitting the floor accompanies the soldier's straggled wails as he leans his body against the window while favoring the arm that dangles limply from his body.
Headgear and Helmet arrive a moment too late and feverishly attack their adversary, trying to make up their loss in numbers with willful, excessive force. This causes the stranger to be driven back further into the inn, and the battle moves to a location where the caller can no longer see from inside her room.
Rydia abandons her place at the window and presses an ear against the closed door, hearing the different pitches of *Clank!* and *Clang!* that marks the continuation of the battle unseen by prying eyes. The climax finally arrives in a rapid succession of clashing steel that reverberates loudly from inside the hall. And just as suddenly the noise abruptly dies, leaving a mute void to fill its place.
Several seconds pass without a sound, and the caller hesitantly considers opening the door but fear mixed with logic causes her instead to bolt down the lock. Then, Rydia hears something coming from outside and hurries back to the front window. She arrives just in time to see two of the soldiers fleeing the inn on their chocobo mounts, leaving the other half of the flock still waiting out by the stalls.
“But that's only two, what happened to the other one..?” Rydia wonders in hanging suspense. A slight shiver runs through her, the temperature feeling as if it had dropped down by several degrees, and the creeping silence rattles her further, disrupting her concentration on what she's missing. Before she can find the answer, the caller feels something at the back of her neck, something that should have been easily recognized yet her rationale couldn't completely grasp.
But it wasn't her imagination, it was definitely the wind. A cool breeze had blown passed her.
Just as she moves to turn, a coarse hand suddenly covers her month and yanks her off the ground while something distinctly cold and unforgivably sharp is pressed up against her neck.
“Don't move.”
“-a...aa..h..!” the caller stands on trembling tiptoes struggling for air but fear of the dagger slitting her throat causes her to move not a millimeter lower.
Her assailant takes some time to look outside the window and a curse escapes his mouth, “Tsk! Those damn cowards..! Can't leave it to them to handle a simple diversion.”
Rydia struggles to look up, wanting desperately to get away from the blade and to at least see her unknown assailant, but the only things she can make out within the darkness are the undersides of the soldier's unshaven chin and the bright red color of his headband. However, as if to oblige one of her unspoken wishes, her assailant looks down just as a dim blue glow filters through the window and the caller catches a hint of remorse pass over him. But the shadows soon return to eclipse the soldier's face, and that brief flicker felt more and more like a cruel trick played by the waning moonlight. Headband sets his gaze directly at her as he offers, “Nothing personal, girl.”
She shuts her eyes away at the face of her own death. The seconds creep by and still she feels nothing: not the sickening sound of flesh rendering or the heavy odor of blood lingering in the air or the cruel agony she has come to associate with the dying. Nothing.
Gathering what little courage she can, Rydia cracks her eyes open and finds herself still inside the same dark room of the inn. She glances up and sees Headband, completely still with his eyes set forward as if tuning himself to match the mute atmosphere. The caller stands there motionless as well, afraid that the next slightest movement will draw his attention back to her. A short while later, Rydia hears the noise that had previously caught the soldier's attention.
It came from the hall, near the door. Headband grips her closer to ensure his only ace doesn't leave his hand. Dragging her along, he slowly slinks towards the opposite side of the room where the side window hangs open.
However, before they are even halfway across, a strained voice weakly speaks out in the hall and causes Headband to stop in his tracks, “U...ugh... B-Biggs...”
“Wedge..?” the soldier called Biggs whispers in disbelief. He inches closer to the door with Rydia in tow, the professional detachment in his voice breaking down a notch as he cautiously asks in a louder tone, “That you? What happened out there?”
“Biggs... d-don'... I'm... I-aaagghhhh!!!”
“..! Wedge..!!”
Neglecting the potential dangers in the urgency of aiding his comrade, Biggs leans in and reaches for the lock with his dagger hand. But just as the bolts are unfastened, the door is violently kicked open and light instantly floods the room. The swing of the frame bangs into Biggs, his head taking the full impact, and the two of them reel back and fall on their behinds. Trapped in an arm lock, the soldier known as Wedge is pushed into the room and hits the floor hard, and the figure behind him quickly steps towards Rydia, pointing a beam of light above her head before Biggs can retract his dagger.
“Drop your weapon and let her go,” the shadow knight says in such a way that broke no argument yet made no demands, it merely promised the grave repercussions should her assailant fail to heed his words. Wedge struggles underneath the stranger, but whatever plans he had are quickly extinguished along with his cries as the man stomps his left foot onto the soldier's injured shoulder. All the while the stranger's eyes never stray away from Biggs, his sword continuing to hover over the frightened girl while its dark, redden tip remains just a fraction away from her assailant's forehead.
Clammy sweat starts saturating Biggs' hand and the caller briefly thinks he just might curse again. A few beats pass before a sharp metallic noise resounds off the floor and the soldier's grip slackens. Rydia escapes from his grasp and quickly moves away from him, finding herself taking a place behind the brightened back of the stranger.
“No mercy shall be spared should you ever step before me again,” the shadow knight says as he alleviates the pressure of his sword but only just enough to allow the soldier restricted movement towards the door, “Now leave.”
Biggs ducks down to assist Wedge and the two soldiers soon exit the inn on their chocobo mounts. When they are completely out of sight, the shadow knight sheathes his sword and the air of hostility around him evaporates. Though the threat has passed, the man's back is still turned to her as he tilts his head upward and lets out a shallow breathe. The girl herself is no better as her gaze lays on the floor, her mind in growing conflict on how she should act.
They simply stand there, no words being exchanged or spoken. Several moments pass before a commotion is heard inside the building, providing them both with an easy distraction. As the two turn around and step out into the hallway, they see flocks of people vacating their own rooms and moving down the narrow hall in a rushed manner. Some of the guests notice their presence, or more specifically the man besides her, and they pointedly look away with barely concealed fear and animosity.
The cause for their action and behavior doesn't occur to her until years later, that if she managed to see the fight from her room then the other guests must have been able to as well. That blind, instinctive desire to avert disaster by all means however irrational; it's something a small part of her can sympathize with yet her older self will never again fall into.
As the crowd steadily thins, Rydia spots Farrah trying to stop the remaining guests at the juncture between the two hallways, but only a few are polite enough to offer their apologies or even engage in a short exchange before they depart. Many of the others avoid eye contact altogether as they whisper amongst themselves, and talks of hiring criminals soon branches out into gossip of the inn's other illegal activities and similar veins of wild thinking. The teenager stands there listening to it all, unable to retort as the slander continues in hushed chatter until the very last group exits the inn.
Save for the few people remaining, it's clear that the entire building is now empty. Without a word, Farrah ignores their presence as she mechanically starts cleaning up the debris left by the battle. Amidst the broken items, the caller can see Marie slumped down at the far end of the entryway. Yet she barely shows any signs of awareness and it isn't until Rydia gets closer before she sees how distraught the old lady truly is. She wants to do something, to somehow change the innkeeper back to the way she was, but she doesn't know how to do so or even where to begin.
It's the stranger who takes the initiative by kneeling down to help with the mess. But before he can pick anything up, the teenager numbly speaks out, “Go away...”
“Please, just let me-”
“Haven't you done enough already?! Just go! Leave!! Get out of here!!!”
Each of her shouts are punctuated by pieces of hurled rubble. Rydia, being in the indirect line of fire, flinches back from a stray debris heading her way. But there was no cause for concern as the shadow of the stranger falls over her. The girl stands there replaying the familiar scene in her head and she can't help but think that this is the fourth time now.
The man quickly leads her out of the inn, away from the wrath and sorrow of the only two women remaining inside. Once outside, he pauses for a long while and Rydia can see just how incredibly tired he looks. Soon enough he moves on, not bothering to check if the girl was still with him. But that doesn't matter. She doesn't have anywhere else to go, and so she follows.
As they continue walking, the caller looks up at the stranger again, spotting the line of crimson running down his forehead. To think he would get hurt only after the fighting is over despite all of his strength.
“You're bleeding...”
The man blinks out of his daze and turns to her, his vacant expression making her wonder if he actually heard what she said. His hand absently travels to the small gash on his temple and he touches the bit of wetness now smeared on his fingertips. He then rubs the tiny trail of blood away with the back of his hand before replying, “This..? It's nothing. How about you? Are you alright..?”
Rydia stares up at the man, feeling the question was asking more than just her physical well-being. She nods.
“That's good...”
Silence begins setting in once more but before it can completely take hold of them, Rydia gives voice to her thoughts, “Is this really alright..? They were your friends, weren't they? So why..?
... why do this for me?”
Without turning, the stranger continues to walk the barren path ahead, “I could never forgive myself if I had stepped aside and done nothing, even if it's against my own countrymen. But still, I couldn't... I should have finished things. In order to slow the pursuit, it would have been for the best...”
His expression twists as if he swallowed something sour, unable to hide his own disdain at what was just spoken. It's only upon witnessing this does Rydia decide to continue, “Those two. Are they going to be okay?”
“You mean Marie and Farrah? They managed to take cover before the fighting broke out, so they should be fine,” the stranger replies as his face falls even further, “At least, that's what I like to say. But because of what happened tonight, because they got involved... it's soon going to be very difficult for them.”
The stranger lapses back into a dim, brooding silence, which prompts the girl to keep talking, "All of those people left the inn, huh?”
“Yes. That's right...”
“So everything worked out pretty well then,” Rydia resolutely concludes.
The stranger slows his pace and turns to her, a bit of life returning to his eyes as he inquires, “What makes you say that? How can this outcome be of any good?”
“In the end, everyone walked away, right?”
“... Well, yes. In a way, I suppose you can say that.”
“That's all because nobody got hurt,” Rydia says as she nods to herself. Despite all that's happened, everyone's still alive, and that's definitely the most important thing. Then, an afterthought crosses her mind, “Well, at least not too badly.”
Mildly stunned, the man ponders over this simple fact. Then, his face eases a little as he quietly admits, “That's true...”
They continue walking through town, the silence not so heavy anymore. Rydia looks up and takes in the night air, and without giving it a second thought, the words simply flow out of her, “Thank you...”
But her sincere appreciation only produces the opposite effect as the man dismissively questions, “Why..? For protecting you from those soldiers? That's the very least I can do, so it's nothing for you to be thankful for...”
Still star-gazing, Rydia shakes her head as the lost memories begin resurfacing. The shadow knight confronting the dragon knight on her behalf; his continuous protection as the group fights for survival in the village once known as Mist; even up to her last moments before falling into the ravine, he was trying to save her: all the scenes which her anger and misery tried to paint over. It's so strange, completely unjust and unfair and so unbelievably difficult to accept. But there's no more denying it. This stranger she just met, the shadow knight of the past and her guardian whom she has come to rely upon: he really is the same person, “For everything.”
The man stares at her for the longest time before his eyes shine with true understanding at the weight of her words. He turns his head forward again, swallowing his throat and blinking a bit before he gives a short nod in return.
After a couple more minutes of walking, the two arrive at remote location somewhere along the city limits, and the caller figures that they have to camp out in the open until daybreak. Rydia lies down, getting as comfortable as she can on this bed of sand, while the shadow knight takes a sitting position against the town walls besides her, propping his sword up by his shoulder in such a way that its handle laid within easy reach.
The desert grows surprisingly chilly during the night, but at least they are in a spot where the wind rarely blows and the air is still. The caller takes note of this but there was something else keeping her awake, just one last thing she needs to do.
“Rydia,” she announces out loud. Puzzled, the man turns to her and the girl rolls her eyes, no longer feeling a need for restraint as she adds, “My name. You asked remember?”
“Rydia...” the shadow knight softly repeats. The caller stares inquiringly at him and he responds by blinking back stolidly. She makes a face and continues to wait, which prompts him to think harder before a simple realization strikes him. The man shakes his head in self-reproach and the deep-rooted tension he always seems to carry finally subsides. He then looks at her as he introduces himself, “I'm Cecil.”
Rydia nods again, feeling better now that he isn't just some stranger to her anymore.
“G'nite, Cecil...” the caller says with a long yawn.
Just before sleep takes her, she hears Cecil's gentle response, “Ahh... Pleasant dreams, Rydia.”
And for the first time in a long while, the caller is indeed able to rest peacefully.
Theme + Number: Silence #37, Truth #80, Nightfall #92
Claim: Cecil Harvey
Characters/Pairings included: Rydia, Cecil
Rating: T
Warnings: General violence
Summary: Her mother, her home, the loss of the life she had ever known; Rydia awakens only to face this cruel reality and is forced to deal with the very man who had taken all of it away.
Index
"Quotes" = Dialogue
"Quotes & Italics" = Thoughts
*Words* = Sound Effects
Italics = Flashback Scene
**Asterisk** = Time Passes and/or Change of POV
-------------
Groaning, Rydia wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling, her mind foggy and full of static haze. She blinks rapidly, adjusting to the incredible brightness, and soon enough her vision clears yet her surroundings only become more strange and alien to her.
“Oh, finally awoken have you?”
Rydia turns towards the voice and sees a old lady seated down by her bedside while holding a wet rag in her hands, an easy smile etched on her wrinkled face. She looks pass the woman and sees another girl, really skinny and who looks to be about 5 or 6 years older than herself, standing a few feet away with her arms crossed and her expression hard. Rydia tries sitting up from the bed but plops back down, the long disuse of her muscles and limbs bringing about the following result.
“There's no need to overexert yourself, dear. Your safe here, so just relax.”
Rydia brings the covers up to her face as she gazes around the room once more before squeaking out, “... W-where am I?”
“This is the oasis village of Kaipo and your inside the Miran Inn. My name is Marie, the innkeeper, and this is my granddaughter, Farrah, who helps with the upkeep of this place,” the lady explains as she first gestures to herself and then to the teenager who gives a curt nod in response, “I hope we didn't frighten you, dear. It's our policy not to intrude on our guests, but neither you nor your companion were answering our calls so we thought it best to make an exception.”
“What? A friend..?”
Puzzled, it isn't until the girl glances to her utmost right before she spots the person in question. There lies an unusual stranger sleeping soundlessly on the next bed besides her, his light features perfectly blending in and complimenting the warm background of the tranquil room. The first thing that strikes Rydia right away is the man's hair. Unlike the ragged gray the aged innkeeper sports, the strands that nip at his shoulders are the brilliant color of pure ivory. He still looks rather youthful, though the slight underlining creases found on his face give him a look of worn and weathered maturity. As Rydia watches the soft raise and fall of his chest, she takes notice that while the stranger's body is lean, it is also strong; somewhat similar to the farmers back in her village except he looks capable of doing more than simple fieldwork.
“He's a real heavy sleeper. Hasn't moved a single inch for all the time we've been here,” the teenager comments as she pushes the bridge of her glasses up with a finger, her expression growing a bit regretful as she ponders, “Guess it makes sense though, since you guys looked like warmed-over death when you first came in.”
Marie nods in agreement and slyly adds, “The two of you are free to stay for another night, so just focus now on getting well again.”
Her mind still feeling weary and muddled, the girl is about to lie back down but notices Farrah looking more sour and resentful than before, “What? Not enough for you to be thankful for? But then again, we're just doing all this at our own expense, right?”
Not expecting the sudden hostility, Rydia hesitantly responses, “Oh..! U-m...”
“Must you start this again, Farrah?” Marie questions, turning to address her granddaughter as the caller looks on.
“I start this because you keep doing this! Each and every time, you're just begging to be taken advantage of, and I'm just blown away as to why you haven't learned yet!”
“Farrah,” the innkeeper stresses her name heavily, “Do you honestly believe these folk are the same as them? That they would go so far just to deceive us out of a free meal and bed?”
Unable to grasp an immediate response, the teenager cools down considerably, though the look on her face indicates her unwillingness to simply let the matter go, “... Well, no. But why is it that our regulars who've helped keep the business running for years have to pay good money while these stranglers get to stay for free? How exactly is this fair for them? They'd be real displeased, and have every right to be, if word of all your charity cases ever got out.”
The innkeeper lets out a sigh that bellows infinite patience before speaking, “If you truly feel this way, that just lending out a helping hand endangers our livelihood, then by all means you should be the one to tell them so and have them evicted immediately.”
The teenager flinches back, scowls and retorts, “That's not fair, grandma, saying that now and leaving me to do the dirty work while you still get to play the saint.”
“Such an awkward child you are, expecting me to follow your advice when you're unable to do the same,” Marie throws back at the teenager while she wearily shakes her head, “If you have no further suggestions, then why not try being more productive and getting some actual work done around here instead of carrying on with your complaints?”
Farrah directs a sharp glare towards the woman for a second before she gives a reply laced with sarcasm, “Sure. Since we're being all-so helpful, how about I go readjust the budget now and start cutting back on all of our own needs? Maybe then we won't be hitting the red for this month: yet again.”
A resounding *Bam!* fills the room following the teenager's exit. Marie scowls with disapproval, her eyes staring at the open door as if still witnessing the afterimages of her granddaughter's departure. She then turns to address the bedridden girl, “You'll have to excuse her. She's really a gentle girl who cares for the plight of others more than she let's on, but our recent troubles have caused her to become more distrustful, more wary of the people around her.”
Rydia looks down. She wasn't able to follow the entire conversation but she does pick up on the main issue behind their argument, “But having us here causes problems for you, right?”
Smiling a bit sadly, Marie replies, “You needn't fret over it, dear. Such a matter is for us adults to resolve. For now, just get some rest.”
As the aged innkeeper stands and makes ready to leave, something out of place within the room catches the caller's attention. A cross, or something resembling one, can be found leaning against the wall on the far side of the stranger's bed. A vague feeling prompts Rydia to stop looking yet her eyes can't help but be drawn to the object. Having long realized it's only a small part of a greater whole, she continues drinking in every detail that's within her view, tracing each fine line of its unique structure until the crafted metal becomes thoroughly imprinted into her mind. Then suddenly, cold recognition hits Rydia like a tidal wave; her senses instantly numb as they leave with the breath that escapes her.
***
The breath of fire saturating the air. Only a sliver of steel remained gleaming at the base of the blade, the thick black blood overflowing freely down its edge and dripping heavily onto the once-green earth.
***
Her body quakes like a lone, late autumn leaf as the ignited memories begin reawakening.
***
Bearing the shape of a serpent was the man in radiant blue, his open mouthpiece the only indication that he was indeed a human being. The roar of fire and the savagery it brings. The dragon knight stood above it all, one of the monsters that had razed and desecrated her home still impaled on his extended fang, like it were the natural order of things.
***
Rydia forces her eyes shut yet it does nothing to stop the hot flashes from coming.
***
It was sweltering all around her, yet gazing up at his form made her feel bone-chillingly cold. The harborer of death, bringer of the hellfire, the man donning the mask of a demon or perhaps it was a demon masquerading as a man. The wake of fire illuminates and ashes all. Everything but the glistening blackness of the shadow knight towering before her.
***
“ah-!” A mute cry, her last form of resistance before she looks back and finds herself breaking. Such a tiny sound doesn't even reach her own ears yet somehow her plead is answered. Delicate hands rest on her shoulders and the caller instinctively clings to the presence like a life preserver, burying her face deep into the person's bosom.
To feel the tangible touch of another, to be whispered soft and sweet nothings, to immerse herself in this warm embrace: all of these things help remind her body on where she's at. That she's living here in the present time, a place unreachable from her memories of the past.
It takes awhile before Rydia is able to settle down and when she does, the girl looks up and finds the person whom she's clinging to is Marie. In actuality, the innkeeper is at a complete loss regarding the girl's situation and the reason behind her extreme episode. But through the long years of similar practices and experience, the old woman is able to display an anchor of calmness and certainty.
“It must have been very difficult,” Marie settles on saying as she continues stroking the back of the girl's head while grasping for the right words to say, “... Sometimes the best remedy to unburden your troubles is just by talking to someone who's willing to listen. So if there's anything you feel the need to say, I'm all ears.”
Slowly, Rydia pulls away. It felt so good, unbearably so, just hearing those words. But she knows there isn't anything this kind, elderly lady can do that will ever make things right again. She's grown old, far too old now to be believing in that type of fantasy, “It's nothing...”
“... Is that right? Then I suppose this has nothing to do with your companion by any chance?” Marie hazards and upon seeing the look of open amazement on the girl's face, she smiles in self-satisfaction. Despite herself, Rydia can feel her hopes rising; if the woman is able to understand this much, then surely there's something she can do to help save her. However, those naive expectations are soon dashed as the innkeeper continues, “I thought so. Well, not to worry. He's simply exhausted from the toll the desert has taken upon him. Soon enough, he'll recover his strength and be up and about in no time.”
The woman pats her knee in a reassuring manner, yet to Rydia it feels as if her legs are being weighed down under a pile of stones. Oblivious to the girl's state of mind, Marie continues without missing a beat, “To think the two of you managed to survive a trek through the desert... It's very fortunate that you both were able to arrive safely into Kaipo.”
“N-No..! That-” the caller starts to say but abruptly trails off as a vague, yet familiar scene flashes in her mind. Darkness and light: it was all the blurry image comprised of, but it was enough to recall that dire situation, “... That can't be right...”
Continuous denial raids Rydia's thoughts even after Marie exits the room and leaves her alone with the slumbering stranger.
As if expecting the man to spring out of bed at any given moment, the caller keeps an excessive watch over him. However, she starts feeling more weary with each passing second as the rush of stimulation drains from her body. Rydia lies back down just to give her head a resting place but this in turn causes her eyes to drool down involuntarily. Up and down, up and down in a constant cycle, each raise of her eyelids coming slower and lower than the previous time until they at last close completely.
*********
Rydia snaps awake and finds the bed next to hers empty, the covers on top sprawled untidily. That man isn't anywhere in the room, though the sword at his bedside indicates he simply didn't get up and leave. Carefully, she gets on her feet and wobbles a bit, still feeling a little groggy but otherwise much better than in the past few days prior.
She takes one more look around, reassuring herself that she is indeed alone. The caller then goes over to one of the two windows in the room, unfastens the lock and swings the window panel up in the hopes of catching an afternoon breeze, but she immediately closes it upon receiving the dry desert wind instead. Still feeling unreasonably hot, she glances outside yet most of her view is obscured by a cluster of nearby buildings.
The girl steps away and moves to the other window, finding the view to be far more spacious. From what she can tell, the inn appears to be an L-shaped building, though in actuality it is T-shaped in structure. The entrance can easily be seen from this vantage point and thanks to the large, connecting windows that run across the entire entryway, she can also make out a fair majority of what's inside. Simple, yet personalized decor lines the walls of the corridor. And though she isn't able to see it from her position, the narrow passageway ends at the reception desk where the fork then splits into two halls running in opposite directions. It's within both of these wings where the guest rooms are located.
As she continues looking outside, Rydia catches sight of the stranger coming back to the inn while carrying a tall stack of white covers and clean linens. No sooner does he step inside before Farrah stops him at the entryway and takes the pile in exchange for another dirty load. The man then leaves again with laundry in hand and walks back in the direction to where the oasis resides.
Rydia blinks slowly as if coming out of a trance; it was definitely a sight she wasn't expecting. Having seen the stranger perform such everyday duties causes a tight, unsettling feeling to well up inside. She feverishly shakes her head and stops the line of thought altogether. Even with this contradiction, he's still the same murderer who slaughtered her entire village. It doesn't mean a thing and it won't make a difference; all it does now is make her head ache.
The caller rests her arms and chin on the windowsill and gazes outside, the time quickly flying by. Her mind remains empty even as her eyes take in the scenery and the people who happen to be walking within the area. And during the times Rydia is able to see the stranger, she would simply sit there and watch him as he works.
Sometimes the stranger would leave the inn again for an hour or so and come back carrying goods like household utensils, jugs of water and other such foodstuff. Sometimes he would round one of the corners inside the building and vanish from her line of sight, the buzz of activity out in the hall still apparent even after his disappearance. Sometimes either Marie or Farrah would be seen instructing the shadow knight or just exchanging simple pleasantries with him. Whatever he was doing the stranger was always on the move, never seeming to take a breather.
There are no shadows in his actions; no ill intentions or hidden agendas that would justly explain why someone like him is exerting all of this effort. He's simply as he appears. The stranger is just earnestly working.
Rydia was so focused on him that she had failed to see Marie waving to her from a distance, the old woman having spotted her from across the building. The girl finally takes notice and is about to greet the woman back but her uplifted hand freezes as the shadow knight turns to see whom Marie is waving to. Their eyes meet for only a brief moment before the caller breaks contact by ducking down from the window.
Her heart races with rapid anxiety as her mind repeatedly tells her how stupid she's been. All this time she never considered her situation or given thought to the shadow knight's inevitable return. Now it's too late and any minute he'll come waltzing back in.
A set of angry footsteps making their way closer to her puts Rydia back on full alert. But what comes next is unexpected as the caller hears a familiar voice sound from outside the room, “Okayyyy... I'm not going to ask why you're out here staring at the door like it were the gallows or something, but if you have that sort of free time, how about using it to help with the dinner preparations?”
“Yes...” a muffled voice, distinctly male, responds closely through the door, “Just give me a moment and I'll be right over.”
A huff of irritation is made before Farrah's voice is heard again, “Well fine, but hurry up! There's still plenty of work to be done around here.”
The sound of stepping feet gradually grows fainter and after a few seconds, the door creaks open and Rydia hastily turns away. She hears someone take one step into the room and she can feel eyes lingering on her back. Two beats pass, then a man's voice speaks to her from across the room, “You're awake... So how are you feeling?
Still a bit ill..?
… Probably tired, I bet.”
A short pause, then the stranger continues in a casual manner, “You know, I haven't caught your name yet.”
“That's because you never asked,” the caller thinks, annoyed. She holds back from saying the thought out loud and fixes her eyes on the wall in front of her, using her irritation to help fuel her silence.
Several seconds pass by and the stranger lets out a deflated sigh. After a moment he speaks again, no longer with the fake lightness in his voice, “I'm sorry. Truly sorry for all the pain you've endured... Your mother, the people of your village, everything... Everything that's happened to you I am solely to blame, so that's why... I...
Even if you can't forgive me... At least, let me protect you...”
Rydia had been quiet throughout the man's entire admission, not because of a stubborn refusal to talk but rather she had been listening to him speak. After receiving no response, the stranger steps out and she is once more alone inside the room.
“... So it was him after all...” the caller thinks dejectedly to herself. Even though she knew he was the culprit, somewhere deep down she must have wanted to believe otherwise. If only it was all a mistake then everything else would be so much easier to deal with. She wouldn't be caught in this confusion, she wouldn't have to hate him.
The man returns an hour after sunset and wordlessly goes to bed. Having received plenty of rest these past few days, Rydia is unable to sleep and stays up well into the night. But the long hours of darkness eventually start wearing her down and just as the girl feels her eyelids drooping, a distinct, clamoring ruckus coming from outside the inn reawakens her.
Rydia wearily looks towards the sound and is surprised to see the stranger is already awake and standing by the front window, his back pressed against the wall with his head turned just enough for him to peek outside. Her uneasiness is soon multiplied as she catches sight of the sheathed sword in the man's hand, the moonlight reflecting off a small metallic portion of the slightly revealed blade.
The shadow knight suddenly turns to her direction and Rydia quickly reacts by shutting her eyes and pretending to be asleep. If he had seen the girl was awake, the man gives no indication of having noticed as he only looks upon her for just a moment before he steps out of the room while closing the door behind him. The sound of his footsteps soon grows distant and the caller hurries to where the stranger was at.
What she sees outside are three aggravated, armor-cladded men trying to push pass Farrah and Marie who block the entryway into the inn. The soldiers' forceful attempts only last for a few more seconds before they cease as the shadow knight makes his appearance from down the corridor. They step away from the entrance as if to invite him outside, however, the man stops just shy from leaving walls of the building.
Though Rydia is too far away to be able to hear the group, the stranger says something to the women which causes their faces to deepen with dread. Marie stands there stunned and it takes Farrah's insistent prompting before the old woman moves from her spot.
After the two women retreat into the safety of the inn, the soldiers take a few steps towards the man, their encirclement around him shrinking a bit smaller. The long-faced soldier donning a helmet engages in a long, unheard dialogue with the shadow knight while the others look on.
The stranger shakes his head, his face stoic yet sober.
Helmet's mouth slips into a scowl, he asks another question.
The stranger gives a short reply, his expression unchanging.
Helmet stays deadly silent with a calculating look.
The bulky soldier with the bandanna straightens up, raising to his full height.
The headgear wearing soldier sharply interjects, gesturing wildly.
No immediate reply is made. Then, the shadow knight lays his palm to rest on the hilt of his sword.
He utters a single phrase.
The soldiers' goodwill vanishes in that instant and the air quickly grows thick with tension. They draw their weapons out, slow and methodical, and the stranger responds in kind. Yet nobody takes any further action in sparking the battle.
A few minutes pass and the men remain in this standstill. Rydia can at least understand why the stranger is on his guard but the soldiers' strategy baffles her. They already have the upper hand yet by exercising so much caution, the group makes no use of it. And they must know the man isn't dumb enough to openly attack them out in that wide-open area in this 3 on 1 fight.
But the caller soon finds out just how wrong she is. All of a sudden, something in the stranger's demeanor drastically changes and his expression turns grim. He reassesses the group in front of him, his eyes working. Then without warning he rushes towards Headgear, the furthest soldier from the pack.
Headgear responds by swinging his longsword down at his charging adversary but the man parries the attack away with the broad side of his blade and counters with a horizontal slice of his own. The soldier manages to pull back just far enough for the sword to whiff across his chest, however, he stumbles due to his displaced balance and hasty retreat. Before the shadow knight can capitalize, Helmet and Bandanna are already upon him, forcing the stranger to dodge the scimitar thrust to his stomach and narrowly duck under the mace strike meant to crush his ribcage. Helmet follows through with his lunge by delivering a fierce boot to the stranger's face, which causes Rydia to whine a bit upon witnessing the hit. But a well-guarded forearm and quick back step reduces much of the impact and the shadow knight is able to stand no worse for wear.
Bandanna, Headgear and Helmet get into closer formation in order to better coordinate their attacks. But the next move surprises both the soldiers and the battle's spectator as the stranger turns his back on the group and breaks out into a full run, sprinting back into the inn. Being swept up in the flow of battle, both Bandanna and Headgear follows, unheeding Helmet's orders as they chase after their fleeing adversary.
The shadow knight dashes through the narrow corridor, slashing away at the tables, portraits and other ornaments along the way. The fallen debris scarcely slows Bandanna or Headgear down yet it's enough to create the decisive gap, not between the pursuers and the pursued but between both soldiers who now vacate a few meters width of space.
Bandanna catches up to his opponent and rises his mace high, only a heartbeat away until he's within striking range. But just as the two men are about to pass the corridor's last window panel, it happens. Like the tide crashing into the cliff shores, the man lowers his center of gravity and skids to an abrupt stop, turning his body completely around in mid-slide while leaving his sword arm hanging back to its utmost extent. Such a sudden, seamless maneuver takes Rydia completely by surprise, so she isn't at all shocked to see Bandanna falter for just a split second at the unexpected action.
That slight hesitation is all it took to create a clear opening. The stranger's sword swings up in a crescent arc, tearing the tendons of Bandanna's left shoulder and causing a gush of blood to splash up into the ceiling. The dampened, yet heavy thud of the mace hitting the floor accompanies the soldier's straggled wails as he leans his body against the window while favoring the arm that dangles limply from his body.
Headgear and Helmet arrive a moment too late and feverishly attack their adversary, trying to make up their loss in numbers with willful, excessive force. This causes the stranger to be driven back further into the inn, and the battle moves to a location where the caller can no longer see from inside her room.
Rydia abandons her place at the window and presses an ear against the closed door, hearing the different pitches of *Clank!* and *Clang!* that marks the continuation of the battle unseen by prying eyes. The climax finally arrives in a rapid succession of clashing steel that reverberates loudly from inside the hall. And just as suddenly the noise abruptly dies, leaving a mute void to fill its place.
Several seconds pass without a sound, and the caller hesitantly considers opening the door but fear mixed with logic causes her instead to bolt down the lock. Then, Rydia hears something coming from outside and hurries back to the front window. She arrives just in time to see two of the soldiers fleeing the inn on their chocobo mounts, leaving the other half of the flock still waiting out by the stalls.
“But that's only two, what happened to the other one..?” Rydia wonders in hanging suspense. A slight shiver runs through her, the temperature feeling as if it had dropped down by several degrees, and the creeping silence rattles her further, disrupting her concentration on what she's missing. Before she can find the answer, the caller feels something at the back of her neck, something that should have been easily recognized yet her rationale couldn't completely grasp.
But it wasn't her imagination, it was definitely the wind. A cool breeze had blown passed her.
Just as she moves to turn, a coarse hand suddenly covers her month and yanks her off the ground while something distinctly cold and unforgivably sharp is pressed up against her neck.
“Don't move.”
“-a...aa..h..!” the caller stands on trembling tiptoes struggling for air but fear of the dagger slitting her throat causes her to move not a millimeter lower.
Her assailant takes some time to look outside the window and a curse escapes his mouth, “Tsk! Those damn cowards..! Can't leave it to them to handle a simple diversion.”
Rydia struggles to look up, wanting desperately to get away from the blade and to at least see her unknown assailant, but the only things she can make out within the darkness are the undersides of the soldier's unshaven chin and the bright red color of his headband. However, as if to oblige one of her unspoken wishes, her assailant looks down just as a dim blue glow filters through the window and the caller catches a hint of remorse pass over him. But the shadows soon return to eclipse the soldier's face, and that brief flicker felt more and more like a cruel trick played by the waning moonlight. Headband sets his gaze directly at her as he offers, “Nothing personal, girl.”
She shuts her eyes away at the face of her own death. The seconds creep by and still she feels nothing: not the sickening sound of flesh rendering or the heavy odor of blood lingering in the air or the cruel agony she has come to associate with the dying. Nothing.
Gathering what little courage she can, Rydia cracks her eyes open and finds herself still inside the same dark room of the inn. She glances up and sees Headband, completely still with his eyes set forward as if tuning himself to match the mute atmosphere. The caller stands there motionless as well, afraid that the next slightest movement will draw his attention back to her. A short while later, Rydia hears the noise that had previously caught the soldier's attention.
It came from the hall, near the door. Headband grips her closer to ensure his only ace doesn't leave his hand. Dragging her along, he slowly slinks towards the opposite side of the room where the side window hangs open.
However, before they are even halfway across, a strained voice weakly speaks out in the hall and causes Headband to stop in his tracks, “U...ugh... B-Biggs...”
“Wedge..?” the soldier called Biggs whispers in disbelief. He inches closer to the door with Rydia in tow, the professional detachment in his voice breaking down a notch as he cautiously asks in a louder tone, “That you? What happened out there?”
“Biggs... d-don'... I'm... I-aaagghhhh!!!”
“..! Wedge..!!”
Neglecting the potential dangers in the urgency of aiding his comrade, Biggs leans in and reaches for the lock with his dagger hand. But just as the bolts are unfastened, the door is violently kicked open and light instantly floods the room. The swing of the frame bangs into Biggs, his head taking the full impact, and the two of them reel back and fall on their behinds. Trapped in an arm lock, the soldier known as Wedge is pushed into the room and hits the floor hard, and the figure behind him quickly steps towards Rydia, pointing a beam of light above her head before Biggs can retract his dagger.
“Drop your weapon and let her go,” the shadow knight says in such a way that broke no argument yet made no demands, it merely promised the grave repercussions should her assailant fail to heed his words. Wedge struggles underneath the stranger, but whatever plans he had are quickly extinguished along with his cries as the man stomps his left foot onto the soldier's injured shoulder. All the while the stranger's eyes never stray away from Biggs, his sword continuing to hover over the frightened girl while its dark, redden tip remains just a fraction away from her assailant's forehead.
Clammy sweat starts saturating Biggs' hand and the caller briefly thinks he just might curse again. A few beats pass before a sharp metallic noise resounds off the floor and the soldier's grip slackens. Rydia escapes from his grasp and quickly moves away from him, finding herself taking a place behind the brightened back of the stranger.
“No mercy shall be spared should you ever step before me again,” the shadow knight says as he alleviates the pressure of his sword but only just enough to allow the soldier restricted movement towards the door, “Now leave.”
Biggs ducks down to assist Wedge and the two soldiers soon exit the inn on their chocobo mounts. When they are completely out of sight, the shadow knight sheathes his sword and the air of hostility around him evaporates. Though the threat has passed, the man's back is still turned to her as he tilts his head upward and lets out a shallow breathe. The girl herself is no better as her gaze lays on the floor, her mind in growing conflict on how she should act.
They simply stand there, no words being exchanged or spoken. Several moments pass before a commotion is heard inside the building, providing them both with an easy distraction. As the two turn around and step out into the hallway, they see flocks of people vacating their own rooms and moving down the narrow hall in a rushed manner. Some of the guests notice their presence, or more specifically the man besides her, and they pointedly look away with barely concealed fear and animosity.
The cause for their action and behavior doesn't occur to her until years later, that if she managed to see the fight from her room then the other guests must have been able to as well. That blind, instinctive desire to avert disaster by all means however irrational; it's something a small part of her can sympathize with yet her older self will never again fall into.
As the crowd steadily thins, Rydia spots Farrah trying to stop the remaining guests at the juncture between the two hallways, but only a few are polite enough to offer their apologies or even engage in a short exchange before they depart. Many of the others avoid eye contact altogether as they whisper amongst themselves, and talks of hiring criminals soon branches out into gossip of the inn's other illegal activities and similar veins of wild thinking. The teenager stands there listening to it all, unable to retort as the slander continues in hushed chatter until the very last group exits the inn.
Save for the few people remaining, it's clear that the entire building is now empty. Without a word, Farrah ignores their presence as she mechanically starts cleaning up the debris left by the battle. Amidst the broken items, the caller can see Marie slumped down at the far end of the entryway. Yet she barely shows any signs of awareness and it isn't until Rydia gets closer before she sees how distraught the old lady truly is. She wants to do something, to somehow change the innkeeper back to the way she was, but she doesn't know how to do so or even where to begin.
It's the stranger who takes the initiative by kneeling down to help with the mess. But before he can pick anything up, the teenager numbly speaks out, “Go away...”
“Please, just let me-”
“Haven't you done enough already?! Just go! Leave!! Get out of here!!!”
Each of her shouts are punctuated by pieces of hurled rubble. Rydia, being in the indirect line of fire, flinches back from a stray debris heading her way. But there was no cause for concern as the shadow of the stranger falls over her. The girl stands there replaying the familiar scene in her head and she can't help but think that this is the fourth time now.
The man quickly leads her out of the inn, away from the wrath and sorrow of the only two women remaining inside. Once outside, he pauses for a long while and Rydia can see just how incredibly tired he looks. Soon enough he moves on, not bothering to check if the girl was still with him. But that doesn't matter. She doesn't have anywhere else to go, and so she follows.
As they continue walking, the caller looks up at the stranger again, spotting the line of crimson running down his forehead. To think he would get hurt only after the fighting is over despite all of his strength.
“You're bleeding...”
The man blinks out of his daze and turns to her, his vacant expression making her wonder if he actually heard what she said. His hand absently travels to the small gash on his temple and he touches the bit of wetness now smeared on his fingertips. He then rubs the tiny trail of blood away with the back of his hand before replying, “This..? It's nothing. How about you? Are you alright..?”
Rydia stares up at the man, feeling the question was asking more than just her physical well-being. She nods.
“That's good...”
Silence begins setting in once more but before it can completely take hold of them, Rydia gives voice to her thoughts, “Is this really alright..? They were your friends, weren't they? So why..?
... why do this for me?”
Without turning, the stranger continues to walk the barren path ahead, “I could never forgive myself if I had stepped aside and done nothing, even if it's against my own countrymen. But still, I couldn't... I should have finished things. In order to slow the pursuit, it would have been for the best...”
His expression twists as if he swallowed something sour, unable to hide his own disdain at what was just spoken. It's only upon witnessing this does Rydia decide to continue, “Those two. Are they going to be okay?”
“You mean Marie and Farrah? They managed to take cover before the fighting broke out, so they should be fine,” the stranger replies as his face falls even further, “At least, that's what I like to say. But because of what happened tonight, because they got involved... it's soon going to be very difficult for them.”
The stranger lapses back into a dim, brooding silence, which prompts the girl to keep talking, "All of those people left the inn, huh?”
“Yes. That's right...”
“So everything worked out pretty well then,” Rydia resolutely concludes.
The stranger slows his pace and turns to her, a bit of life returning to his eyes as he inquires, “What makes you say that? How can this outcome be of any good?”
“In the end, everyone walked away, right?”
“... Well, yes. In a way, I suppose you can say that.”
“That's all because nobody got hurt,” Rydia says as she nods to herself. Despite all that's happened, everyone's still alive, and that's definitely the most important thing. Then, an afterthought crosses her mind, “Well, at least not too badly.”
Mildly stunned, the man ponders over this simple fact. Then, his face eases a little as he quietly admits, “That's true...”
They continue walking through town, the silence not so heavy anymore. Rydia looks up and takes in the night air, and without giving it a second thought, the words simply flow out of her, “Thank you...”
But her sincere appreciation only produces the opposite effect as the man dismissively questions, “Why..? For protecting you from those soldiers? That's the very least I can do, so it's nothing for you to be thankful for...”
Still star-gazing, Rydia shakes her head as the lost memories begin resurfacing. The shadow knight confronting the dragon knight on her behalf; his continuous protection as the group fights for survival in the village once known as Mist; even up to her last moments before falling into the ravine, he was trying to save her: all the scenes which her anger and misery tried to paint over. It's so strange, completely unjust and unfair and so unbelievably difficult to accept. But there's no more denying it. This stranger she just met, the shadow knight of the past and her guardian whom she has come to rely upon: he really is the same person, “For everything.”
The man stares at her for the longest time before his eyes shine with true understanding at the weight of her words. He turns his head forward again, swallowing his throat and blinking a bit before he gives a short nod in return.
After a couple more minutes of walking, the two arrive at remote location somewhere along the city limits, and the caller figures that they have to camp out in the open until daybreak. Rydia lies down, getting as comfortable as she can on this bed of sand, while the shadow knight takes a sitting position against the town walls besides her, propping his sword up by his shoulder in such a way that its handle laid within easy reach.
The desert grows surprisingly chilly during the night, but at least they are in a spot where the wind rarely blows and the air is still. The caller takes note of this but there was something else keeping her awake, just one last thing she needs to do.
“Rydia,” she announces out loud. Puzzled, the man turns to her and the girl rolls her eyes, no longer feeling a need for restraint as she adds, “My name. You asked remember?”
“Rydia...” the shadow knight softly repeats. The caller stares inquiringly at him and he responds by blinking back stolidly. She makes a face and continues to wait, which prompts him to think harder before a simple realization strikes him. The man shakes his head in self-reproach and the deep-rooted tension he always seems to carry finally subsides. He then looks at her as he introduces himself, “I'm Cecil.”
Rydia nods again, feeling better now that he isn't just some stranger to her anymore.
“G'nite, Cecil...” the caller says with a long yawn.
Just before sleep takes her, she hears Cecil's gentle response, “Ahh... Pleasant dreams, Rydia.”
And for the first time in a long while, the caller is indeed able to rest peacefully.