"Until The Fall" - 6/48
Title: Until The Fall
Author: Rissy James
Characters: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Jeb, Glitch, Raw, Tutor, the Queen, Ahamo, and some old & new OCs (updated 03.09.09)
Pairing: Established Cain/DG; established Jeb/Az
Rating: M
Summary: Sequel to " Of Light". A year after returning to the Zone, DG sets out to complete the task given to her by the Gale. Soon, she must learn that there is always more to everything than first meets the eye. (updated 02.24.09)
(Author's Note: I forgot to mention that the "main" storyline truly started in the last chapter. I guess you could think of the first four chapters as a very, very long prologue to this story. Happy reading!)
Chapter Six
Without much in the way of ceremony, Wyatt Cain put to rest what was left of the last nine months of his life, and with it, any attachment to the future of the mission he'd been unable to finish. Zero had managed to evade capture, would face no punishment for his crimes.
It was doubtful the man would ever be caught.
The hope of finding Zero had waned fast, as the months had passed, as leads had gone nowhere. Every Longcoat that had gone into the custody of the A.R. had been interrogated over the whereabouts of the Witch's fledgling general. Not one knew where he was, where he'd gone. A few were equally as curious as to why that one, specific Longcoat was so important, and more than a few had muttered under their breath about wanting to get their hands on the traitor who'd given up all his mistress's plans to save his own hide.
Wyatt was angry, and had been working through it for days. Days spent on the long road home, days spent in the Armory offices from the rising of the first sun to well after night had fallen. Days spent quelling his own temper to reassure DG that he'd still be at her side when the time came for her to leave.
Slamming around the bathroom now, trying to put things in order before leaving for the palace, where a new room waited for him, he looked up out of habit for his reflection, only to remember the mirror had been moved off the wall. He'd taken it down when DG had asked him to.
Bare knees straddling the porcelain, fingers sliding around the edge of the mirror... she was going to cut herself, she was going to bleed... blue eyes searching the glass frantically, looking for something, someone...
He looked out of the bathroom to the mirror propped on the floor in the hallway. The glass still bore the print of her hand, as she'd slammed her palm down in defeat, before she'd almost fallen and he'd rushed in to grab her. She always fell back blindly. Either someone was there to catch her, or wasn't... damned if the stubborn girl would ever look back before she tumbled.
Shoving his thoughts down hard, he tried to concentrate on what he was doing. Zero didn't matter anymore, couldn't matter with the anniversary of the Eclipse drawing up so fast. Three days. Four days until Azkadellia's coronation. Formal, low key... for not the first time, he found himself thanking his patron he wasn't in charge of that security nightmare.
If he'd even be in Central City for the coronation was up to DG. She said she didn't know. He'd been back two days, and he'd yet to see her; he'd managed to get her on the phone once, from his office on his first day back. She had sounded distracted, quiet. She'd willingly agreed to stay in the palace; that much told him something wasn't completely right. So, now back on the right track, he hurried. He closed the apartment up, locked the door. He'd keep the flat, simply because he wasn't sure of what the next few months would bring. They might need a place...
He kept his thoughts in check as he navigated the busy streets to the palace. It was after eight, and though the late summer skies were only beginning to darken, the overshadowed streets of Central City had already fallen dark. Lamps came on and people walked a little faster. No matter the season, it was always a little cool. Close to the Wall, overlooking the lake, it was worse. His duster was heavy and familiar around his shoulders as he walked at a brisk pace. His hat hid his face from plain view, and not a single person paid the retired Tin Man any mind.
The district where he lived was mostly military and enforcement, with the only residences in cramped, old buildings like his own. Closer to the palace, however, the streets became more crowded, louder, happier. He nodded, touched the brim of his hat to the guards as he walked through the gate. Not bothering to slow himself, he moved quickly along the path that led around the palace to the private entrance. The guards that flanked the doors nodded in recognition, but said nothing to him. The sound of his boots on the stone steps was replaced with muffled silence as the thick carpet of the hall swallowed any noise he made.
Once the elevator had brought him to her floor, he made straight for DG's quarters. He was taking over his duties immediately, relieving the corporal as soon as he reached the palace. When he rounded a corner and saw not only the corporal, but his son Jeb, his mouth quirked in suspicion, and his curiosity perked a little higher.
Both young men were standing at ease outside DG's sitting room door. They were engaging in casual conversation, which was cut short when Jeb stopped mid-sentence at the sight of his father. “Captain,” he said with a smirk and a nod. Cain clapped his son on the shoulder in greeting, but retracted his arm quickly at the yell and the crash that came from the other side of the door.
Wyatt's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What's goin' on in there?” he demanded, looking from one young man to the other. Jeb only rolled his eyes, and Hass shook his head back and forth slowly.
“No idea, sir,” the corporal said, as he turned his head to look at the heavy door. There was another shout. Hass shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive sort of way. “She's been like this a lot lately. The Princess Royal is in there right now with her.”
Cain eyed the door cautiously. “You're dismissed, Corporal,” he said after a moment, and Hass breathed a sigh of relief. “Head home and enjoy your time off. I expect I'll be in touch soon.”
Carefully, thankfully, Hass nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed in the direction from which Cain had just come; somewhere in the city, a very neglected young wife would be keeping her husband abed for a few days. As Wyatt watched the corporal break into a run at the end of the hallway, he felt a twinge of sympathy to the young lady who would be sending her husband off, for unknown reason, for an unknown amount of time, without knowing the true danger she was watching him march off to.
Another crash. A sob.
He turned his attention back to the door, and watched as Jeb flinched when a second clatter sounded. The unhappy line of his lips settling a little more firmly, Cain reached out to knock on the door, but as he raised his fist, his son spoke up.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”
Cain sighed in exasperation. “What's been goin' on that I don't know about?”
Jeb considered his words carefully as he stood under his father's intense glare. When he didn't speak right away, Wyatt's eyes hardened further. “Spit it out, Jeb,” he warned.
“Well,” Jeb said slowly, with an air of someone drawing a deep, and difficult conclusion, “In my opinion, I think she's starting to crack.” Wyatt's eyebrows raised again as his son continued to speak. “She's been breaking down a lot. Crying. Azkadellia is in there right now trying to calm her down.”
“How long ago did this start?” Cain asked.
Jeb shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, I guess it started after you left this last time. Its been getting worse. Royal physician has been up a couple of times to give her something to sleep. Hass told me that one. I figured its just stress.”
Cain said nothing, as he listened to DG's crying continue. His son, though his intentions were good, had no idea of the true meaning behind any of this, but it hit Wyatt now in the chest like a sackful of bricks, heavy and obvious. Jeb knew nothing of the pressure DG was truly under. What she had to worry about on top of - or her perhaps underneath of - the lessons, and the events, the world of fake smiles and words.
The Emerald. The Gale. The lights, the face, the message.
There was a door slam and the crying abruptly stopped. He glanced quickly at his son before steeling himself, and opening the door without knocking. It was time to relieve Azkadellia, and see what he could do to help.
As she turned to face the door, Azkadellia's mouth was open to scold whomever had dared enter without knocking, but when her dark eyes set onto Cain, her words fell short and her mouth trembled closed. He'd laid eyes on her first; he didn't speak, waited for her to tell him, as his eyes surveyed the room.
“She's gone to bed.” As the older princess spoke, he noticed broken glass near the fireplace; some nameless, useless trinket had been thrown in fury. “I think she put a silencing spell up around the room, I can't hear her crying.” A chair was laying on its side. Nothing else seemed out of place. “She has too much to worry about, and a lot has been going on... My - well, never mind, I'll let her tell you. But, she received this today.”
Cain looked up at Az again, as she reached for a folded piece of paper on the desk. She looked tired, anxious, extraordinarily pale. He frowned; DG was not the only one under so much stress that it was starting to affect her physically. He took his hat off then, realizing that it should have come off the moment he'd entered the room. He hung it over an extinguished lamp.
“You doin' all right?” he asked her, a little cautiously.
Az waved him off dismissively. “Nothing a little rest wouldn't fix.” She handed him the paper. Unfolding it, Cain scanned the letter; it was written simply, but his frown deepened the more he read.
A letter from her Nurture Units, declining DG's invitation to the coronation. 'Our presence would be inappropriate,' popped out from the page; 'We hope this letter finds you in good health, Your Highness,' stood out as well. Formal, uncomfortable, the letter was nothing like the units he'd seen enthusiastically embracing their foster daughter in Milltown an annual before... before the Sorceress's virus had its unfortunate effect, forever damaging the processors of the units. They remembered the girl, the years they'd spent caring for her on the Other Side, but... the emotional attachment they'd been programmed to feel was gone. She was not their daughter, and never would be again.
When he handed the letter back to Az, the glimmer of guilt and sorrow in her eyes was hard to miss, though she tried to keep her face straight and impassive. Not her fault, she didn't need reminding of this, didn't need to think she'd caused her sister this pain.
“Head to bed, Your Highness,” he said, as kindly as he could. “I can take care of things here.”
Though Az nodded in agreement, she didn't smile; she was stiff, the expression on her face distant to him. “Thank you, Captain. Good evening.” She slipped past him and left the room, taking her guard with her. Damn, he hadn't thought that one through; he'd have to track his son down in the morning.
After he turned the offended chair upright, he strode the length of the sitting room and knocked on the bedroom door. There was silence from within; the door felt slightly warm under his knuckles as he rapped a second time. When he tried the handle, he was surprised to find it unlocked. Pushing it open slightly, he called out her name. Still silence; the room was dark, the light from the sitting room spilling in.
When he stepped fully into the room, he felt something wash over him, warm and pleasant and gone in an instant; he felt as though he'd crossed more than a physical threshold when he walked into the room. As soon as the sensation had stopped, he heard her sniffling softly, an occasional whimper escaping her.
“Wh-what do you want?” she asked.
He closed the door behind himself; he wasn't sure she'd looked up to see him enter, perhaps she thought he was Azkadellia. “DG.” He said her name again, and he heard her move, the rustle of blankets; she was on the bed.
In the dark, she let out a low, defeated moan. “Jeez,” she sighed, her voice thick with too much crying. Sleep would claim her soon, that much he was sure of. “Can't I just wallow in my misery in peace?”
Cain didn't move from his spot by the door. “I can wait outside if you'd like, Darlin'.”
“No,” she said with a sniffle, and he could hear her swallowing back her tears; she didn't want him to see her crying. I'm sorry. I'm just having a bad day.” On her last two words, bad day, her voice cracked, and in those tiny, vulnerable fissures, he could feel great unrest radiating. He made his way to the bed, standing at the foot and wrapping a hand around the post. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make her out, curled up on the bed... she was wearing a white dress, easy to make out.
He stood in silence; he knew his presence would soon drive her to distraction, and she'd start spilling. All she ever needed was a little prompting. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better, or to change the things that bothered her, upset her... all he could do was stand there, and know that that, in and of itself, was good enough. He watched as she crawled to the end of the bed, so that she might lean her head against his hand, with the frame between them.
“You should've told me you've been feelin' this way,” he told her, when it became clear she was only going to sniffle and hiccup as she calmed herself out of her upset.
DG pushed air through her lips disbelievingly before she laughed.
“There's nothing you can do, Tin Man. You can't make this better.”
Sighing, knowing she was right, he frowned again. Reached out with the hand on the bedpost to stroke her hair. She looked up at him, face in shadow, but he hoped there was at least a faint trace of a smile on her mouth. “You're right there's nothin' to be done,” he said slowly, “but it might've kept you from cryin' like this.”
Cain watched her carefully as she rose up on her knees, turned and put her arms about his shoulders. With the frame still between them, he wrapped his arms around her small body. “I'm scared,” she whispered into his neck, her lips brushing his skin as she spoke. “Standing around waiting for someone to die. God, even just the thought of it is making me sick. We have to go, and I don't know where we have to go. We have to find a way... destroy the Emerald. How? How?” She was shaking her head now, letting go. She slumped against him, and he held her steady. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”
He felt a smirk creep up onto his face . “When have you ever, Darlin'? You've always managed just fine,” he said softly into her hair. She doubted herself, she was tearing herself up over her worries of her insufficiency to complete the task the Gale had set for her.
Wyatt only tightened his grip on her, propping her relaxing body against his chest. All the strength and courage he'd come to know were there, somewhere, underneath the exterior she'd built up this past annual. She had enough backbone for three people, she only needed to remember the free bird she'd been before being locked up in this gilded cage.
“When we leave here,” she said, the bare whisper muffled into the collar of his coat, “I think I want to stop in Milltown.”
Cain nodded. It didn't surprise him; even without having read the letter, it wouldn't have surprised him. It only made sense. When he didn't contest her, she snuggled deeper into him, her warm cheek pressed into his neck, her breaths at first shallow, then lengthening, deepening as she truly settled and calmed.
After a few minutes, she braced herself against his chest and pushed away. “I have a headache,” she said, putting her head in her hands. Her voice was stronger, and he'd bet that her eyes were dry.
“I'm not surprised,” he said with a chuckle, “after all that cryin'.”
“Will you lie down with me for a while?” she asked, and he kissed the top of her head in compliance. Still fully dressed, she flopped down on the mattress. She burrowed herself into the blankets, and after kicking off his boots and removing his jacket, he stretched out beside her, letting his arm rest over her. She was looking up at him, and placing a soft kiss on the side of his mouth. “Cain, will you promise me something?”
He hesitated. Promises were too dangerous for people in their situation. “What can I promise, DG?”
There was a faint smile in her voice, though she'd stiffened slightly at his hesitance. “Can you promise not to die in the next four days?”
He chuckled low in his throat, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her breathing was already beginning to slow; exhausted from crying, from her outburst before he'd arrived, she was falling asleep. “I can try, Princess.”
There, that wasn't a promise.
The high ceiling of the Inner Temple was intricately carved with the symbols of the Ancients; though Glitch had been teaching her, DG had never encountered any of the marks displayed above her before. The only ones she knew for sure, high up where she could barely see, were the pictures for Light and Dark.
At the altar sat a throne, amidst a thousand burning candles set on pedestals, on the floor, on every available surface. On either side of the ornate, gold throne stood a Holy Priest, and a third stood in front; three holy men representative of their three deities. DG's tongue was clenched between her front teeth, as she stopped herself from asking her father an endless stream of questions. Silently, she watched as her sister walked down the aisle in the middle of the temple. People stood as she passed, bowed, curtsied, whispered prayers. Deep down, it saddened her to know her sister desperately needed the prayers of strangers.
Azkadellia walked slowly, her steps cautious, but purposeful. Eyes straight ahead, chin trembling, DG could see how much her sister shook. When she reached the altar steps, she stopped long enough for one of her ladies' maids to step forward and remove the heavy mantle from about her sister's shoulders; the Temple was so quiet that DG could hear the clink of the fastening being undone. Az stood with her back to the assemblage, her shoulders bare in a strapless emerald green gown. She wore no jewelry, nor regalia. Her hair hung long and dark down her back, no decoration. In her simplest form, wearing the color of her family, she stood firm and unbending, but faint and far off inside her head, DG could swear she heard a little girl crying.
Az mounted the four alter steps, and then lowered onto both knees in supplication before the Holy Priests. The mass seemed to hold a collective breath as the future queen was anointed with oil; DG frowned, looked away, when she saw the priest doing the ritual pause in fear before touching the tops of Az's breasts with the oil. He hesitated to touch the creamy, unmarred flesh where the marks of the Witch had once stood out, black, on her skin.
They're still scared of her, DG thought as she closed her eyes.
Had nothing her family had done for the country, for the Reconstruction, mattered at all in the past year?
DG bit her lip as Azkadellia lowered herself into the throne, resting in its sea of candles; the throne sparkled in the dancing light. The breath the room was holding was released in a long exhale. She shifted her glance upward, to the balcony, where Cain stood next to a great stone pillar, observing the ceremony. His eyes were alert, scanning the room; he didn't see her watching him. She knew what mattered most to him this moment was the safety of her sister, of her family, despite the fact he assured her he was there only for her. She knew he worried about assassination attempts, though even she also knew not a single person in the Zone would do such a thing inside the Temple. Her sister was safe, for now...
For now... don't think like that, she scolded herself, turning back to the altar.
“Your Majesty, Azkadellia,” the First Holy Priest spoke, not only to the woman seated on the throne but to those gathered as witness. His voice reverberated off the high walls, heard by all. “Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of this Great Kingdom, and its five most worthy provinces, according to its laws and customs?”
Az tried to speak, but her voice came out as barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “I promise and swear to do so.”
“Sixth Queen of the House of Gale, will you, in your great Light and power, cause justice and mercy to be executed in all your judgments?”
With the faintest trace of a nod, Azkadellia spoke, her voice growing stronger. “I promise and swear to do so.” Though her sister's demeanor was perfectly calm and collected, DG could almost feel her shaking; as if she could take some of her sister's nervousness and fear into herself, her very nerve endings seemed to be on edge, vibrating.
It was almost over... it had to be almost over. She felt like she'd been there forever, and the small tiara woven into her hair on top of her head had gone from a minor nuisance to a full-on headache; she looked sideways, slowly raising her eyes; they caught Cain's, as he stared down at her with a slight curve to his lips, a hidden smile.
Her mother had appeared, catching DG's attention once again. Beside her was one of the priests, holding a red, velvet cushion on which rested the gold coronation circlet. Unlike most monarchies she'd ever heard of, DG was surprised to learn that the Queen of the O.Z. always stepped down to pass the throne to her daughter, instead of the heir being crowned upon the previous ruler's death.
Locasta picked up the delicate circlet, and for the briefest moment caught DG's eyes, as Cain had moments before. Her mother's lavender eyes were soft, reassuring; this was right, this would be beautiful. The crown would not be passed if this was not the proper choice.
She imagined herself, not for the first time, sitting in Azkadellia's place, and her stomach churned. But would I rather be up there sitting on the throne, or standing here worrying about the promise of blood and death?
Her own heart was pounding as the coronation circlet was placed on Azkadellia's head, as she was handed a silver scepter, and an emerald ring slipped on her finger as a symbol of her marriage to her kingdom. As she was announced Her Majesty, the Queen Azkadellia of the Outer Zone, the entire congregation fell to their collective knee to bow before their new ruler.
When DG got to her feet, helped by her father, she expected to see a change in her sister; she wanted to see that something was different. Instead, she saw a girl who was slowly shrinking, the corners of her mouth trembling dangerously into a frown. The First Holy Priest stepped forward to help Azkadellia to her feet, and as she rose, the hall broke into soft applause, which grew, very slowly, into a roar. A few cheers echoed from the back of the room.
A great relief swept over DG as Az walked out of the hall. After the doors had closed, she sat down hard on the wooden bench beneath her, as close to a flop as her formal gown would allow. Her father looked down at her with an amused smile on his lips, before holding out a hand for her. There were still things to do... No time to sit, stop dallying, DG. Get your butt in gear. Out of the hall, smile and wave at the people in Gale Square. Keep an eye out, oh God oh God don't let anything bad happen.
Dusk was settling over Central City by the time the royal family and their escorts made it back to Alta Torretta. The Coronation Ball was to take place the next night. Celebrations were happening all over the city, people crying out their drunken loyalty to the new queen. Somewhere in the circus of cars and passengers, reporters and supporters milling around the palace, DG had lost track of her sister.
“I want to go see Azkadellia,” DG told Cain as he opened the door to her sitting room. She practically fell into the room; her tight slippers had come off the minute the elevator door had closed, and she threw them down onto a chair now, promising herself to never put another pair of shoes on her feet again.
“I doubt she's up for visitors,” Cain said as he closed the door.
DG frowned at him. “She needs to see a friendly face now more than anything. She doesn't need to be stuck in a room with just her bodyguard right now.”
Cain smiled, the first true smile she'd seen him give since his arrival at the palace four days before, when he'd held her in the dark until she slept. “You sayin' something against your sister's bodyguard?”
DG laughed. “You know I didn't mean it like that. Jeb is fine, but...” she trailed off, not sure what to say. What a corner to be backed into. She knew he was teasing, and she was so happy that there could be something lighthearted amidst all the chaos that had happened that day. Strange, that she could be happy. It hadn't seemed possible in the last weeks, hadn't seemed possible that very morning, as she'd taken deep breaths before braving the mirror. But there had been nothing, nothing for weeks, not since she'd been given her warning... as if whomever was trying to reach out to her had said what needed to be said and was done... but for how long? She didn't want to think about it.
She changed her clothes quickly, slipping into a pair of cotton pants and a tank top. She tossed a robe on over top, knowing the glances she'd get if she passed anyone in the halls with her top half mostly uncovered. Regulations, restrictions, she'd be so glad to break away from all this... to head East along the Old Road to try and find the answers that were hidden for her.
Someone, something would help her find out how to destroy the magic of the Emerald. She didn't even know where to begin looking...
Cain followed her along the halls to Azkadellia's room, his presence a comfort. She could feel his eyes on her as she navigated the halls, and when she entered Az's room, she gestured for him to follow, but he only declined, said he'd wait for her out in the hallway.
She frowned at him. “You don't have to do that, Wyatt.”
He shook his head. “You need some time with your sister before we get on the road, whenever that's gonna be. I'll wait here, you go on, Kiddo.”
Sighing, she realized he was right. She closed the sitting room door behind her, leaving Wyatt on his own. She took a few tentative steps into the room. The lamps were out, but the bedroom door was wide open and light spilled out. “Az?” DG called out. She could hear faint sounds coming from the bedroom.
As she crossed the living room, she called out to her sister again, and jumped in surprise when Jeb came walking out of the bedroom, looking harried. “Hey!” he exclaimed at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on my sister.”
Jeb smiled nervously. “She's in her bathroom. She's not feeling that great. Go in, I'll wait out here.”
DG eyed him suspiciously for a moment; he was anxious, though the young man was usually very collected, as calm as his father. She liked Jeb, but at the moment, something seemed off. Very off. Shaking it off, simply because she couldn't stand there and stare at him wondering what his problem was, she walked into Azkadellia's bedroom. The covers were pulled back on the bed, sitting on its raised platform, but the sheets were still crisp and untouched.
The adjoining bathroom door was ajar. “Az?” she said for a third time. She could hear the sound of retching coming from within. Her heart plummeted. “Are you okay?” she asked as she stopped just outside the door.
“Yeah,” her sister said weakly, her voice echoing slightly in the massive bathroom. It registered faintly in the back of her mind that soon Azkadellia would be moving to the Queen's residential level, and that her mother and father would be leaving Central City to return to the Northern Island. Soon, the mirrored entryway would be Azkadellia's.
The toilet flushed and the water ran. DG pushed on the door to see Azkadellia standing at the sink, staring down at her cupped hands, the water she held in them slowly dripping between her fingers. “What's wrong?” DG asked slowly, leaning against the door frame.
“My nerves are just...” was all her sister said, but somehow DG knew that was a lie. Azkadellia finally brought her hands to her face, bathed her cheeks in water. Raising her head, she stared herself hard in the mirror, taking a small towel to dry her face. “I'm glad you were there with me today, DG,” Az said quietly. “Thank you, I didn't want to do it alone.”
“Of course,” DG said with a smile. She understood, too well, how her sister could have felt alone standing up before an entire country.
“It could have been you up there, you know.”
DG's smile never faltered, though it was a struggle to keep it up. “I know.” Somehow, she doubted it. Somehow, she knew it was always Azkadellia meant to sit on the throne, and she felt, suddenly, like her five-year-old self, staring in awe at her big sister, worshiping her in silence... never knowing how short their time together would be.
Azkadellia felt the twinge in DG's emotions, as clearly as if it were her own. “You leave soon,” she said softly, turning her face away from the mirror to look into the round face, the blue eyes of her little sister, her saving grace. “Promise me you'll be careful. And that you'll come back as soon as possible.”
Solemnly, DG nodded.
Azkadellia gave a weak smile, one that quivered and disappeared quickly. “You'll be fine on the road,” she said, more to herself than to her sister, talking to herself a strange comfort. She paused, and as DG watched her sister, she noticed Az slipping away, accepting the fact that she'd soon be alone in Central City. All she could do was hug her sister, knowing in her heart that Az would be fine, that her sister supported what she had to do.
Hours later, alone in her bed, DG tossed fitfully, dreaming a familiar dream.
She stumbled upon him as if by accident. His back pressed against the rough bark of the tree, face shadowed under the brim of his hat. His fingers brushed the leather belt just above his gun. “Stay sharp, Darlin'. We're bein' watched.”
He was frightening her. “Runners?” she asked, looking about. The dead expanse of the Papay fields spread out around them as far as she could see.
“No. Dark eyes.” He raised his own to hers, intense and alert and cutting straight through to her very core. “Can't say from where just yet. I'll keep an eye out, you just figure out what we're supposed to do.”
“I don't think I can.” She barely managed to find the words. Ashamed, so ashamed. This task on her shoulders, she only had to take action.
“Oh, you will,” he drawled, and he smirked, as if he found their unpreparedness amusing. This lost cause, fool's hope... she knew he liked a long shot. “We can just walk the Old Road. It always finds you, eventually.”
She awoke with a start, dazed and in complete darkness. Nestled in her warm bed, somehow she knew she was making the right decision. Muttering a soft mantra to herself, she curled into her pillow and tried to fall back asleep.
“All of life's answers can be found along the Old Road.”
(Author's Note II: Everyone is antsy to get this journey on the road, me most of all! We are finally, finally into the real story! Are you worried about who has a number on their forehead? Oh, it could be anyone... comments are always appreciated, I love to hear feedback!)
Table Of Contents:
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10
11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20
21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40
41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48
Author: Rissy James
Characters: DG, Cain, Azkadellia, Jeb, Glitch, Raw, Tutor, the Queen, Ahamo, and some old & new OCs (updated 03.09.09)
Pairing: Established Cain/DG; established Jeb/Az
Rating: M
Summary: Sequel to " Of Light". A year after returning to the Zone, DG sets out to complete the task given to her by the Gale. Soon, she must learn that there is always more to everything than first meets the eye. (updated 02.24.09)
(Author's Note: I forgot to mention that the "main" storyline truly started in the last chapter. I guess you could think of the first four chapters as a very, very long prologue to this story. Happy reading!)
Chapter Six
Without much in the way of ceremony, Wyatt Cain put to rest what was left of the last nine months of his life, and with it, any attachment to the future of the mission he'd been unable to finish. Zero had managed to evade capture, would face no punishment for his crimes.
It was doubtful the man would ever be caught.
The hope of finding Zero had waned fast, as the months had passed, as leads had gone nowhere. Every Longcoat that had gone into the custody of the A.R. had been interrogated over the whereabouts of the Witch's fledgling general. Not one knew where he was, where he'd gone. A few were equally as curious as to why that one, specific Longcoat was so important, and more than a few had muttered under their breath about wanting to get their hands on the traitor who'd given up all his mistress's plans to save his own hide.
Wyatt was angry, and had been working through it for days. Days spent on the long road home, days spent in the Armory offices from the rising of the first sun to well after night had fallen. Days spent quelling his own temper to reassure DG that he'd still be at her side when the time came for her to leave.
Slamming around the bathroom now, trying to put things in order before leaving for the palace, where a new room waited for him, he looked up out of habit for his reflection, only to remember the mirror had been moved off the wall. He'd taken it down when DG had asked him to.
Bare knees straddling the porcelain, fingers sliding around the edge of the mirror... she was going to cut herself, she was going to bleed... blue eyes searching the glass frantically, looking for something, someone...
He looked out of the bathroom to the mirror propped on the floor in the hallway. The glass still bore the print of her hand, as she'd slammed her palm down in defeat, before she'd almost fallen and he'd rushed in to grab her. She always fell back blindly. Either someone was there to catch her, or wasn't... damned if the stubborn girl would ever look back before she tumbled.
Shoving his thoughts down hard, he tried to concentrate on what he was doing. Zero didn't matter anymore, couldn't matter with the anniversary of the Eclipse drawing up so fast. Three days. Four days until Azkadellia's coronation. Formal, low key... for not the first time, he found himself thanking his patron he wasn't in charge of that security nightmare.
If he'd even be in Central City for the coronation was up to DG. She said she didn't know. He'd been back two days, and he'd yet to see her; he'd managed to get her on the phone once, from his office on his first day back. She had sounded distracted, quiet. She'd willingly agreed to stay in the palace; that much told him something wasn't completely right. So, now back on the right track, he hurried. He closed the apartment up, locked the door. He'd keep the flat, simply because he wasn't sure of what the next few months would bring. They might need a place...
He kept his thoughts in check as he navigated the busy streets to the palace. It was after eight, and though the late summer skies were only beginning to darken, the overshadowed streets of Central City had already fallen dark. Lamps came on and people walked a little faster. No matter the season, it was always a little cool. Close to the Wall, overlooking the lake, it was worse. His duster was heavy and familiar around his shoulders as he walked at a brisk pace. His hat hid his face from plain view, and not a single person paid the retired Tin Man any mind.
The district where he lived was mostly military and enforcement, with the only residences in cramped, old buildings like his own. Closer to the palace, however, the streets became more crowded, louder, happier. He nodded, touched the brim of his hat to the guards as he walked through the gate. Not bothering to slow himself, he moved quickly along the path that led around the palace to the private entrance. The guards that flanked the doors nodded in recognition, but said nothing to him. The sound of his boots on the stone steps was replaced with muffled silence as the thick carpet of the hall swallowed any noise he made.
Once the elevator had brought him to her floor, he made straight for DG's quarters. He was taking over his duties immediately, relieving the corporal as soon as he reached the palace. When he rounded a corner and saw not only the corporal, but his son Jeb, his mouth quirked in suspicion, and his curiosity perked a little higher.
Both young men were standing at ease outside DG's sitting room door. They were engaging in casual conversation, which was cut short when Jeb stopped mid-sentence at the sight of his father. “Captain,” he said with a smirk and a nod. Cain clapped his son on the shoulder in greeting, but retracted his arm quickly at the yell and the crash that came from the other side of the door.
Wyatt's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What's goin' on in there?” he demanded, looking from one young man to the other. Jeb only rolled his eyes, and Hass shook his head back and forth slowly.
“No idea, sir,” the corporal said, as he turned his head to look at the heavy door. There was another shout. Hass shrugged his shoulders in a dismissive sort of way. “She's been like this a lot lately. The Princess Royal is in there right now with her.”
Cain eyed the door cautiously. “You're dismissed, Corporal,” he said after a moment, and Hass breathed a sigh of relief. “Head home and enjoy your time off. I expect I'll be in touch soon.”
Carefully, thankfully, Hass nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed in the direction from which Cain had just come; somewhere in the city, a very neglected young wife would be keeping her husband abed for a few days. As Wyatt watched the corporal break into a run at the end of the hallway, he felt a twinge of sympathy to the young lady who would be sending her husband off, for unknown reason, for an unknown amount of time, without knowing the true danger she was watching him march off to.
Another crash. A sob.
He turned his attention back to the door, and watched as Jeb flinched when a second clatter sounded. The unhappy line of his lips settling a little more firmly, Cain reached out to knock on the door, but as he raised his fist, his son spoke up.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”
Cain sighed in exasperation. “What's been goin' on that I don't know about?”
Jeb considered his words carefully as he stood under his father's intense glare. When he didn't speak right away, Wyatt's eyes hardened further. “Spit it out, Jeb,” he warned.
“Well,” Jeb said slowly, with an air of someone drawing a deep, and difficult conclusion, “In my opinion, I think she's starting to crack.” Wyatt's eyebrows raised again as his son continued to speak. “She's been breaking down a lot. Crying. Azkadellia is in there right now trying to calm her down.”
“How long ago did this start?” Cain asked.
Jeb shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, I guess it started after you left this last time. Its been getting worse. Royal physician has been up a couple of times to give her something to sleep. Hass told me that one. I figured its just stress.”
Cain said nothing, as he listened to DG's crying continue. His son, though his intentions were good, had no idea of the true meaning behind any of this, but it hit Wyatt now in the chest like a sackful of bricks, heavy and obvious. Jeb knew nothing of the pressure DG was truly under. What she had to worry about on top of - or her perhaps underneath of - the lessons, and the events, the world of fake smiles and words.
The Emerald. The Gale. The lights, the face, the message.
There was a door slam and the crying abruptly stopped. He glanced quickly at his son before steeling himself, and opening the door without knocking. It was time to relieve Azkadellia, and see what he could do to help.
As she turned to face the door, Azkadellia's mouth was open to scold whomever had dared enter without knocking, but when her dark eyes set onto Cain, her words fell short and her mouth trembled closed. He'd laid eyes on her first; he didn't speak, waited for her to tell him, as his eyes surveyed the room.
“She's gone to bed.” As the older princess spoke, he noticed broken glass near the fireplace; some nameless, useless trinket had been thrown in fury. “I think she put a silencing spell up around the room, I can't hear her crying.” A chair was laying on its side. Nothing else seemed out of place. “She has too much to worry about, and a lot has been going on... My - well, never mind, I'll let her tell you. But, she received this today.”
Cain looked up at Az again, as she reached for a folded piece of paper on the desk. She looked tired, anxious, extraordinarily pale. He frowned; DG was not the only one under so much stress that it was starting to affect her physically. He took his hat off then, realizing that it should have come off the moment he'd entered the room. He hung it over an extinguished lamp.
“You doin' all right?” he asked her, a little cautiously.
Az waved him off dismissively. “Nothing a little rest wouldn't fix.” She handed him the paper. Unfolding it, Cain scanned the letter; it was written simply, but his frown deepened the more he read.
A letter from her Nurture Units, declining DG's invitation to the coronation. 'Our presence would be inappropriate,' popped out from the page; 'We hope this letter finds you in good health, Your Highness,' stood out as well. Formal, uncomfortable, the letter was nothing like the units he'd seen enthusiastically embracing their foster daughter in Milltown an annual before... before the Sorceress's virus had its unfortunate effect, forever damaging the processors of the units. They remembered the girl, the years they'd spent caring for her on the Other Side, but... the emotional attachment they'd been programmed to feel was gone. She was not their daughter, and never would be again.
When he handed the letter back to Az, the glimmer of guilt and sorrow in her eyes was hard to miss, though she tried to keep her face straight and impassive. Not her fault, she didn't need reminding of this, didn't need to think she'd caused her sister this pain.
“Head to bed, Your Highness,” he said, as kindly as he could. “I can take care of things here.”
Though Az nodded in agreement, she didn't smile; she was stiff, the expression on her face distant to him. “Thank you, Captain. Good evening.” She slipped past him and left the room, taking her guard with her. Damn, he hadn't thought that one through; he'd have to track his son down in the morning.
After he turned the offended chair upright, he strode the length of the sitting room and knocked on the bedroom door. There was silence from within; the door felt slightly warm under his knuckles as he rapped a second time. When he tried the handle, he was surprised to find it unlocked. Pushing it open slightly, he called out her name. Still silence; the room was dark, the light from the sitting room spilling in.
When he stepped fully into the room, he felt something wash over him, warm and pleasant and gone in an instant; he felt as though he'd crossed more than a physical threshold when he walked into the room. As soon as the sensation had stopped, he heard her sniffling softly, an occasional whimper escaping her.
“Wh-what do you want?” she asked.
He closed the door behind himself; he wasn't sure she'd looked up to see him enter, perhaps she thought he was Azkadellia. “DG.” He said her name again, and he heard her move, the rustle of blankets; she was on the bed.
In the dark, she let out a low, defeated moan. “Jeez,” she sighed, her voice thick with too much crying. Sleep would claim her soon, that much he was sure of. “Can't I just wallow in my misery in peace?”
Cain didn't move from his spot by the door. “I can wait outside if you'd like, Darlin'.”
“No,” she said with a sniffle, and he could hear her swallowing back her tears; she didn't want him to see her crying. I'm sorry. I'm just having a bad day.” On her last two words, bad day, her voice cracked, and in those tiny, vulnerable fissures, he could feel great unrest radiating. He made his way to the bed, standing at the foot and wrapping a hand around the post. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make her out, curled up on the bed... she was wearing a white dress, easy to make out.
He stood in silence; he knew his presence would soon drive her to distraction, and she'd start spilling. All she ever needed was a little prompting. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better, or to change the things that bothered her, upset her... all he could do was stand there, and know that that, in and of itself, was good enough. He watched as she crawled to the end of the bed, so that she might lean her head against his hand, with the frame between them.
“You should've told me you've been feelin' this way,” he told her, when it became clear she was only going to sniffle and hiccup as she calmed herself out of her upset.
DG pushed air through her lips disbelievingly before she laughed.
“There's nothing you can do, Tin Man. You can't make this better.”
Sighing, knowing she was right, he frowned again. Reached out with the hand on the bedpost to stroke her hair. She looked up at him, face in shadow, but he hoped there was at least a faint trace of a smile on her mouth. “You're right there's nothin' to be done,” he said slowly, “but it might've kept you from cryin' like this.”
Cain watched her carefully as she rose up on her knees, turned and put her arms about his shoulders. With the frame still between them, he wrapped his arms around her small body. “I'm scared,” she whispered into his neck, her lips brushing his skin as she spoke. “Standing around waiting for someone to die. God, even just the thought of it is making me sick. We have to go, and I don't know where we have to go. We have to find a way... destroy the Emerald. How? How?” She was shaking her head now, letting go. She slumped against him, and he held her steady. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do.”
He felt a smirk creep up onto his face . “When have you ever, Darlin'? You've always managed just fine,” he said softly into her hair. She doubted herself, she was tearing herself up over her worries of her insufficiency to complete the task the Gale had set for her.
Wyatt only tightened his grip on her, propping her relaxing body against his chest. All the strength and courage he'd come to know were there, somewhere, underneath the exterior she'd built up this past annual. She had enough backbone for three people, she only needed to remember the free bird she'd been before being locked up in this gilded cage.
“When we leave here,” she said, the bare whisper muffled into the collar of his coat, “I think I want to stop in Milltown.”
Cain nodded. It didn't surprise him; even without having read the letter, it wouldn't have surprised him. It only made sense. When he didn't contest her, she snuggled deeper into him, her warm cheek pressed into his neck, her breaths at first shallow, then lengthening, deepening as she truly settled and calmed.
After a few minutes, she braced herself against his chest and pushed away. “I have a headache,” she said, putting her head in her hands. Her voice was stronger, and he'd bet that her eyes were dry.
“I'm not surprised,” he said with a chuckle, “after all that cryin'.”
“Will you lie down with me for a while?” she asked, and he kissed the top of her head in compliance. Still fully dressed, she flopped down on the mattress. She burrowed herself into the blankets, and after kicking off his boots and removing his jacket, he stretched out beside her, letting his arm rest over her. She was looking up at him, and placing a soft kiss on the side of his mouth. “Cain, will you promise me something?”
He hesitated. Promises were too dangerous for people in their situation. “What can I promise, DG?”
There was a faint smile in her voice, though she'd stiffened slightly at his hesitance. “Can you promise not to die in the next four days?”
He chuckled low in his throat, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her breathing was already beginning to slow; exhausted from crying, from her outburst before he'd arrived, she was falling asleep. “I can try, Princess.”
There, that wasn't a promise.
The high ceiling of the Inner Temple was intricately carved with the symbols of the Ancients; though Glitch had been teaching her, DG had never encountered any of the marks displayed above her before. The only ones she knew for sure, high up where she could barely see, were the pictures for Light and Dark.
At the altar sat a throne, amidst a thousand burning candles set on pedestals, on the floor, on every available surface. On either side of the ornate, gold throne stood a Holy Priest, and a third stood in front; three holy men representative of their three deities. DG's tongue was clenched between her front teeth, as she stopped herself from asking her father an endless stream of questions. Silently, she watched as her sister walked down the aisle in the middle of the temple. People stood as she passed, bowed, curtsied, whispered prayers. Deep down, it saddened her to know her sister desperately needed the prayers of strangers.
Azkadellia walked slowly, her steps cautious, but purposeful. Eyes straight ahead, chin trembling, DG could see how much her sister shook. When she reached the altar steps, she stopped long enough for one of her ladies' maids to step forward and remove the heavy mantle from about her sister's shoulders; the Temple was so quiet that DG could hear the clink of the fastening being undone. Az stood with her back to the assemblage, her shoulders bare in a strapless emerald green gown. She wore no jewelry, nor regalia. Her hair hung long and dark down her back, no decoration. In her simplest form, wearing the color of her family, she stood firm and unbending, but faint and far off inside her head, DG could swear she heard a little girl crying.
Az mounted the four alter steps, and then lowered onto both knees in supplication before the Holy Priests. The mass seemed to hold a collective breath as the future queen was anointed with oil; DG frowned, looked away, when she saw the priest doing the ritual pause in fear before touching the tops of Az's breasts with the oil. He hesitated to touch the creamy, unmarred flesh where the marks of the Witch had once stood out, black, on her skin.
They're still scared of her, DG thought as she closed her eyes.
Had nothing her family had done for the country, for the Reconstruction, mattered at all in the past year?
DG bit her lip as Azkadellia lowered herself into the throne, resting in its sea of candles; the throne sparkled in the dancing light. The breath the room was holding was released in a long exhale. She shifted her glance upward, to the balcony, where Cain stood next to a great stone pillar, observing the ceremony. His eyes were alert, scanning the room; he didn't see her watching him. She knew what mattered most to him this moment was the safety of her sister, of her family, despite the fact he assured her he was there only for her. She knew he worried about assassination attempts, though even she also knew not a single person in the Zone would do such a thing inside the Temple. Her sister was safe, for now...
For now... don't think like that, she scolded herself, turning back to the altar.
“Your Majesty, Azkadellia,” the First Holy Priest spoke, not only to the woman seated on the throne but to those gathered as witness. His voice reverberated off the high walls, heard by all. “Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of this Great Kingdom, and its five most worthy provinces, according to its laws and customs?”
Az tried to speak, but her voice came out as barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “I promise and swear to do so.”
“Sixth Queen of the House of Gale, will you, in your great Light and power, cause justice and mercy to be executed in all your judgments?”
With the faintest trace of a nod, Azkadellia spoke, her voice growing stronger. “I promise and swear to do so.” Though her sister's demeanor was perfectly calm and collected, DG could almost feel her shaking; as if she could take some of her sister's nervousness and fear into herself, her very nerve endings seemed to be on edge, vibrating.
It was almost over... it had to be almost over. She felt like she'd been there forever, and the small tiara woven into her hair on top of her head had gone from a minor nuisance to a full-on headache; she looked sideways, slowly raising her eyes; they caught Cain's, as he stared down at her with a slight curve to his lips, a hidden smile.
Her mother had appeared, catching DG's attention once again. Beside her was one of the priests, holding a red, velvet cushion on which rested the gold coronation circlet. Unlike most monarchies she'd ever heard of, DG was surprised to learn that the Queen of the O.Z. always stepped down to pass the throne to her daughter, instead of the heir being crowned upon the previous ruler's death.
Locasta picked up the delicate circlet, and for the briefest moment caught DG's eyes, as Cain had moments before. Her mother's lavender eyes were soft, reassuring; this was right, this would be beautiful. The crown would not be passed if this was not the proper choice.
She imagined herself, not for the first time, sitting in Azkadellia's place, and her stomach churned. But would I rather be up there sitting on the throne, or standing here worrying about the promise of blood and death?
Her own heart was pounding as the coronation circlet was placed on Azkadellia's head, as she was handed a silver scepter, and an emerald ring slipped on her finger as a symbol of her marriage to her kingdom. As she was announced Her Majesty, the Queen Azkadellia of the Outer Zone, the entire congregation fell to their collective knee to bow before their new ruler.
When DG got to her feet, helped by her father, she expected to see a change in her sister; she wanted to see that something was different. Instead, she saw a girl who was slowly shrinking, the corners of her mouth trembling dangerously into a frown. The First Holy Priest stepped forward to help Azkadellia to her feet, and as she rose, the hall broke into soft applause, which grew, very slowly, into a roar. A few cheers echoed from the back of the room.
A great relief swept over DG as Az walked out of the hall. After the doors had closed, she sat down hard on the wooden bench beneath her, as close to a flop as her formal gown would allow. Her father looked down at her with an amused smile on his lips, before holding out a hand for her. There were still things to do... No time to sit, stop dallying, DG. Get your butt in gear. Out of the hall, smile and wave at the people in Gale Square. Keep an eye out, oh God oh God don't let anything bad happen.
Dusk was settling over Central City by the time the royal family and their escorts made it back to Alta Torretta. The Coronation Ball was to take place the next night. Celebrations were happening all over the city, people crying out their drunken loyalty to the new queen. Somewhere in the circus of cars and passengers, reporters and supporters milling around the palace, DG had lost track of her sister.
“I want to go see Azkadellia,” DG told Cain as he opened the door to her sitting room. She practically fell into the room; her tight slippers had come off the minute the elevator door had closed, and she threw them down onto a chair now, promising herself to never put another pair of shoes on her feet again.
“I doubt she's up for visitors,” Cain said as he closed the door.
DG frowned at him. “She needs to see a friendly face now more than anything. She doesn't need to be stuck in a room with just her bodyguard right now.”
Cain smiled, the first true smile she'd seen him give since his arrival at the palace four days before, when he'd held her in the dark until she slept. “You sayin' something against your sister's bodyguard?”
DG laughed. “You know I didn't mean it like that. Jeb is fine, but...” she trailed off, not sure what to say. What a corner to be backed into. She knew he was teasing, and she was so happy that there could be something lighthearted amidst all the chaos that had happened that day. Strange, that she could be happy. It hadn't seemed possible in the last weeks, hadn't seemed possible that very morning, as she'd taken deep breaths before braving the mirror. But there had been nothing, nothing for weeks, not since she'd been given her warning... as if whomever was trying to reach out to her had said what needed to be said and was done... but for how long? She didn't want to think about it.
She changed her clothes quickly, slipping into a pair of cotton pants and a tank top. She tossed a robe on over top, knowing the glances she'd get if she passed anyone in the halls with her top half mostly uncovered. Regulations, restrictions, she'd be so glad to break away from all this... to head East along the Old Road to try and find the answers that were hidden for her.
Someone, something would help her find out how to destroy the magic of the Emerald. She didn't even know where to begin looking...
Cain followed her along the halls to Azkadellia's room, his presence a comfort. She could feel his eyes on her as she navigated the halls, and when she entered Az's room, she gestured for him to follow, but he only declined, said he'd wait for her out in the hallway.
She frowned at him. “You don't have to do that, Wyatt.”
He shook his head. “You need some time with your sister before we get on the road, whenever that's gonna be. I'll wait here, you go on, Kiddo.”
Sighing, she realized he was right. She closed the sitting room door behind her, leaving Wyatt on his own. She took a few tentative steps into the room. The lamps were out, but the bedroom door was wide open and light spilled out. “Az?” DG called out. She could hear faint sounds coming from the bedroom.
As she crossed the living room, she called out to her sister again, and jumped in surprise when Jeb came walking out of the bedroom, looking harried. “Hey!” he exclaimed at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on my sister.”
Jeb smiled nervously. “She's in her bathroom. She's not feeling that great. Go in, I'll wait out here.”
DG eyed him suspiciously for a moment; he was anxious, though the young man was usually very collected, as calm as his father. She liked Jeb, but at the moment, something seemed off. Very off. Shaking it off, simply because she couldn't stand there and stare at him wondering what his problem was, she walked into Azkadellia's bedroom. The covers were pulled back on the bed, sitting on its raised platform, but the sheets were still crisp and untouched.
The adjoining bathroom door was ajar. “Az?” she said for a third time. She could hear the sound of retching coming from within. Her heart plummeted. “Are you okay?” she asked as she stopped just outside the door.
“Yeah,” her sister said weakly, her voice echoing slightly in the massive bathroom. It registered faintly in the back of her mind that soon Azkadellia would be moving to the Queen's residential level, and that her mother and father would be leaving Central City to return to the Northern Island. Soon, the mirrored entryway would be Azkadellia's.
The toilet flushed and the water ran. DG pushed on the door to see Azkadellia standing at the sink, staring down at her cupped hands, the water she held in them slowly dripping between her fingers. “What's wrong?” DG asked slowly, leaning against the door frame.
“My nerves are just...” was all her sister said, but somehow DG knew that was a lie. Azkadellia finally brought her hands to her face, bathed her cheeks in water. Raising her head, she stared herself hard in the mirror, taking a small towel to dry her face. “I'm glad you were there with me today, DG,” Az said quietly. “Thank you, I didn't want to do it alone.”
“Of course,” DG said with a smile. She understood, too well, how her sister could have felt alone standing up before an entire country.
“It could have been you up there, you know.”
DG's smile never faltered, though it was a struggle to keep it up. “I know.” Somehow, she doubted it. Somehow, she knew it was always Azkadellia meant to sit on the throne, and she felt, suddenly, like her five-year-old self, staring in awe at her big sister, worshiping her in silence... never knowing how short their time together would be.
Azkadellia felt the twinge in DG's emotions, as clearly as if it were her own. “You leave soon,” she said softly, turning her face away from the mirror to look into the round face, the blue eyes of her little sister, her saving grace. “Promise me you'll be careful. And that you'll come back as soon as possible.”
Solemnly, DG nodded.
Azkadellia gave a weak smile, one that quivered and disappeared quickly. “You'll be fine on the road,” she said, more to herself than to her sister, talking to herself a strange comfort. She paused, and as DG watched her sister, she noticed Az slipping away, accepting the fact that she'd soon be alone in Central City. All she could do was hug her sister, knowing in her heart that Az would be fine, that her sister supported what she had to do.
Hours later, alone in her bed, DG tossed fitfully, dreaming a familiar dream.
She stumbled upon him as if by accident. His back pressed against the rough bark of the tree, face shadowed under the brim of his hat. His fingers brushed the leather belt just above his gun. “Stay sharp, Darlin'. We're bein' watched.”
He was frightening her. “Runners?” she asked, looking about. The dead expanse of the Papay fields spread out around them as far as she could see.
“No. Dark eyes.” He raised his own to hers, intense and alert and cutting straight through to her very core. “Can't say from where just yet. I'll keep an eye out, you just figure out what we're supposed to do.”
“I don't think I can.” She barely managed to find the words. Ashamed, so ashamed. This task on her shoulders, she only had to take action.
“Oh, you will,” he drawled, and he smirked, as if he found their unpreparedness amusing. This lost cause, fool's hope... she knew he liked a long shot. “We can just walk the Old Road. It always finds you, eventually.”
She awoke with a start, dazed and in complete darkness. Nestled in her warm bed, somehow she knew she was making the right decision. Muttering a soft mantra to herself, she curled into her pillow and tried to fall back asleep.
“All of life's answers can be found along the Old Road.”
(Author's Note II: Everyone is antsy to get this journey on the road, me most of all! We are finally, finally into the real story! Are you worried about who has a number on their forehead? Oh, it could be anyone... comments are always appreciated, I love to hear feedback!)
Table Of Contents:
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10
11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20
21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30
31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40
41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48