Part Four written by Pocroik @ Tole's Crystal Sydney watched the sun blossom to the east from his windowsill perch. It had been some time since he’d been able to appreciate so simple an event as the birth of a new day. Had it always looked so beautiful? He did not remember. Merlose and Joshua had arrived a short while ago. Both looked tired, and had returned to bed after making sure that he was well. So, Ashley is all right, now, he mused over the Inquisitor’s words as he gazed out over the town. What mean he? Has he found his truth? I wonder…. “The game ends again, dear friend.” Sydney started, his head snapping upward at the sudden invasion of a voice upon his thoughts. He glanced about sharply. Merlose and the boy were the only others in the room, and the street below was bare— who had spoken? At last he reached within himself, and there found the deep tones of the intruder: a voice within his mind. A… memory? But from what? The door opened suddenly. Sydney did not even flinch, as he knew the man’s identity simply by the sound of his footsteps. But when he glanced in that direction he realized that his comrade’s countenance had changed, along with his wardrobe. Ashley was now clad in a new outfit of soft black leather, with pants that fed into a pair of thick boots, and a long coat that swished softly about his ankles as he walked. “Ashley.” Sydney regarded him with confusion. “What prompted this?” Ashley reached into a large bag that he was carrying with him, and removed another article of clothing: a hooded coat made of what looked like fine wool. He tossed the bag aside, and stepped toward Sydney. His voice was soft as to not disturb their sleeping companions. “The weather is growing chill,” he said, handing the coat over. “You were cold, when I left.” Sydney looked the garment over appraisingly, genuinely surprised and somewhat touched by the man’s concern. Then he frowned. “This is a woman’s coat.” “Aye. My apologies, but there was little selection at this hour. Moreover, I hoped to throw off any witnesses we create along our path back to Graylands.” He paused. “How fares your injury?” “I am well.” He turned, so that his legs hung together inside the room, and switched his sheet binding for the coat. It weighed only lightly on his shoulders, which he appreciated. “The hurt is already subsiding,” he added pointedly. Ashley straightened just barely. “So, you knew.” “Not at first. You hide your talent well— it would seem you have an instinct for it.” He raised his head to meet Ashley’s eyes, and faltered somewhat. They looked… pure. The once dark and closed irises, though still quite reserved, shone with a new kind of light in them. He thought briefly that he had mistaken it for the dawn beams, but when he reached out tentatively with his power, he could feel the change. There was knowledge in that gaze, in his posture and in his firm tone of voice. Sydney gave no outward indication that he had noticed. He only lifted his chin and asked, “So, what have you discovered?” Ashley regarded him silently for a moment, trying to gauge his true thoughts. Sydney had the feeling that he was being easily read—he was anxious to hear what his prodigy had been able to accomplish. At the same time, he was also genuinely concerned for the man’s well-being. “Nothing of merit,” Ashley admitted at last. “My mind runs only in circles. I cannot reach any conclusions.” Sydney sighed faintly in disappointment. “I… am truly sorry, then. I would that I could assist you.” I wish that I… that I could release you from pain. From all of it. No man should suffer as we have, Ashley. He licked the insides of his lips, watching the man that stood before him. He was at a loss for words, now. He knew that he should apologize once more— that no profession of guilt would ever be enough for his selfishness. That will not help him now. He does not need to hear that from me again; he understands. He felt a twinge of hope within him. He does not blame me. The anger I saw is gone now. He understands. Sydney’s eyes were drawn suddenly to the charm hanging from Ashley’s neck. He had never needed to wonder at its origin; the symbol’s owner was etched deep into them both, now. Absently, almost unconsciously, he reached for it. Its bearer did not flinch or recoil as the metal fingers lifted it an inch off his chest. “But I can tell you thus,” Sydney said quietly. “This pendant you wear, this rood— there is much feeling in it. Feeling for you. It… loves you, Ashley.” When those words tumbled from his lips they spread a tremor through his spine, like a stream of cold water across his burning skin. “It protects your very heart, even from me….” Ashley did not respond, whatever he might have been thinking. Sydney replaced the icon. But even then he did not remove his hand; his cold steel talons splayed across Ashley’s chest, lying very still. For a moment he willed that his long since deadened limbs regain their function, to convey to him the warmth and strength of that place above the man’s heart. He has courage. Here, he keeps it. He cherishes it, as he cherished the bearer of this rood. Sydney refused to break his contact with the man’s eyes, even as he could not read their depths. He was searching—for what, he did not know. Perhaps for the soul mate his prophecy had promised him. Sydney’s own eyes were filled with regret then, which he dare not try to dam. He wanted his raw emotion to be seen for once. Ashley’s silent expression did not change. With slow movements he removed the hand from his chest, returning it to its master. Sydney did not protest and lowered his head. I was foolish to believe that he could understand me. Could trust me. A hand touched the top of his head. The fingers were callused and worn, but gentle, sliding through his hair as one might comfort a young child. It was a small gesture, but one that conveyed emotion such as Sydney had long since forgotten. “It must have been hard.” The words Ashley spoke penetrated him deeply. “You must have suffered.” Sydney gulped, and found that he could not speak. His throat was suddenly tight and without function; his fingers curled and relaxed around the windowsill. The truth of those short phrases was stated clearly in the trembling of his limbs. “Aye,” he was just able to whisper, nodding faintly. “You waited for me a long time.” He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. Why do I feel so weak? He was upset and angry with himself for his own vagaries of behavior. I am not so unaccustomed to human touch. I am not so easy to move. “Aye.” Ashley cupped the man’s face in the palm of his hand, lifting it so that their gazes could meet again. “You must have been tired. And afraid.” Sydney stared up at him, his eyes wide, his body shaking. Ashley was watching him also, though his expression was sure and still. His lips were arranged in a delicate, grim smile. It was a look of patience and acceptance, like that of a kind father that consoles his son after a nightmare. And though Sydney was comforted by it, by the tenderness of so paternal a gesture, he suddenly began to feel small and fragile. Waiting for that hand upon his cheek had been the only thing holding him upright all along. He closed his eyes and turned his face into the touch, a deep sigh emptying from his shuddering lungs. “Aye.” They stayed that way for several moments more, unmoving and without words. At last Sydney opened his eyes when he realized that moisture was seeping through their lids and onto his cheek— and Ashley’s hand. I… cry? His lips parted to speak, though he had nothing to say. He straightened; Ashley recoiled. For I… to have lived so long, and done so much, to shed tears after such simple statements of truth… as if I had never heard truth before…. Sydney used the thick collar of his new coat to wipe his eyes and face, as his companion waited patiently before him. I have never slept alone, his mind whispered as he struggled to compose himself once more. There was always a willing body, one that sought to prove their devotion. But… I have always been strong. I have always protected them from the world, from the tyrants that would do us harm. Never have I…. He took in a deep breath and pushed to his feet, forcing stability into his legs that they may hold him upright once more. No one has ever made me feel so weak. It was never I that received that comfort. Ashley did not question his well-being or even comment of the strange events that had taken place between them. “I still have preparations to make,” he said. “Rest a while longer. I will return to fetch you all once I am ready.” Sydney nodded. “Certainly.” He understands my pain— he allowed me to be weak, if only for a moment. “Take your rest well— our lessons will begin once we are underway.” He started towards the door. The cultist stared after him, frowning with bewilderment. “Lessons?” he echoed. “Teachings of the Dark,” he replied coolly. “I have much to learn, if I am to be your true successor, Sydney.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I trust you to teach me well.” To this he smiled, regaining his old spirit once more. A sly grin spread across his thin lips. “From prey to preacher, is it then?” Ashley’s eyes thinned with dull amusement, which caused Sydney’s grin to widen. “Perhaps. I’ll be not long.” And then he left, closing the door softly behind him. Sydney smiled to himself, and glanced once more at the sun rising beyond the hills. And perhaps, several more dawns of this sort await me. I believed my savior to be the one that would grant me peace through silence and release. Instead, he showed me warmth, and hope. All that I fought for was not in vain. He inhaled deeply, and released the morning air within a satisfied sigh. Thank you, Ashley Riot. I was not false. He found a comfortable position on the bed once more and closed his eyes, even knowing he would not sleep. He was already formulating a plan for the day that lay ahead. Ashley took his time preparing for the journey. After the cost of the inn room, the new clothing, and provisions for the four of them, he had little left to use in the way of transportation. A carriage would attract too much attention, and renting horses would require one of the stable guides accompanying them to be sure that the animals were returned. As Sydney was a reported criminal, this was unacceptable. It would have been easy to state that Sydney was a prisoner of the two VKP agents, but that sort of news would circulate quickly through a small town such as Bevllou. If those rumors reached the Grand Steward an escort would most likely be sent. Moreover, if Ashley never returned it would be assumed that some foul play was being conducted. In any case, Ashley hoped to draw as little attention to themselves as possible while he decided on a course of action. In the end, he settled for purchasing a pair of chocobos from a small farm on the town’s outskirts. The large, gentle birds had lost popularity over the decades as mounts, guaranteeing him a fair price. Though horses would have been faster he was satisfied; the pair he selected had sturdy, three-toed feet and intelligent-seeming eyes. They would do well. After helping himself to some of the food he’d bought, Ashley returned to the inn and roused his travel partners. Though Sydney regarded the choice of transportation with a doubtful expression, Joshua was beaming. He reached out his hand to the first bird, which sniffed at him curiously. He giggled and scrambled back to Merlose’s side. Ashley smiled faintly at him. He thought perhaps that he should have felt some regret, faced with this boy that reminded him so much of Marco. Strangely, having Joshua calmed him. The boy’s kindness to him the night before had felt like forgiveness, which his weary heart drank of fully. “Sydney, you ride with Agent Merlose,” Ashley instructed. “I’ll ride with the boy.” When he noticed Merlose’s uneasy expression he added, “To keep our weight more evenly distributed. These chocobos have had little experience with long distance riding, and I alone will be enough of a burden for one.” Merlose was still frowning, but she pulled herself into the saddle of the first bird just the same. She even lent Sydney her hand so that he could join her more easily. Ashley lifted Joshua onto the second and mounted behind him. After making sure they were all settled, he led the way out of the town, following a dusty path into the forest. “You said long distance,” Merlose questioned abruptly, just as they had entered the woods. “Our destination is but a day’s journey from here.” “Our destination has changed,” Ashley replied calmly. “Where do you take us, then?” “To Albren.” Albren was another small town to the west of Graylands, several hours of travel away even by carriage. Merlose frowned, clearly not understanding the purpose behind his decision. Sydney, however, caught on. “You intend to circle the city.” Ashley nodded. “We will not return to Graylands until a plan has been made. In the meantime, we must be wary of the VKP’s spies-- more Inquisitors shall be sent, I imagine. We may not be able to stay in one place for long.” “Agent Riot,” Merlose rejoined, “I cannot be gone for very long without them noticing. And once they notice they will suspect.” “Aye. From Albren, you and Joshua shall return alone.” “But--“ “On this issue I will not be swayed,” he interrupted sternly. He fixed her with a firm eye. “You and the boy will return, as if we had never met after the city’s collapse. You will be well met and give your report of all you know. By the time it is known that Sydney and I yet live, we will have come up with a course of action.” Thoughtfully, Sydney added, “It would be best to listen to his advice. If you tarry with us long, you will be made a rogue yourself. And you must look after the boy.” Merlose glanced at Joshua, who was gently patting the chocobo’s head, not paying attention to them. She then looked to Ashley, who was able to interpret her gaze well enough. If Sydney is going to tell Joshua that they are brothers, then he shall do so. It is not our concern. She seemed to understand the look he gave her, and turned her attention forward once more, remaining silent. Ashley shifted, collecting his thoughts. “Now, Sydney,” he began directly. “I trust you are well enough prepared to begin our lessons?” “If you so wish.” The cultist raised a slender eyebrow. “That is, if you are satisfied with our present audience.” He nodded toward Merlose. “Even having heard your instructions,” Ashley pointed out, “could she execute them?” Merlose frowned at his obvious opinion of her abilities, but Sydney hummed thoughtfully. “No, I suppose not. But she will quickly learn what you are capable of.” “If you’re thinking that I would report to—“ Merlose quickly began to defend herself. “There’s no need for that,” Ashley interjected. “By the time we progress to such important matters, she and the boy will be gone. Besides,” he added for her benefit, “she would not tell.” She stared at him, surprised by the unusual show of faith. He merely nodded in affirmation. After last night, he felt a mysterious kind of affection for the younger agent. Had it not been for her misguided advances, he would not have reached the resolve within himself. “In any case,” he continued a bit awkwardly beneath her appreciative gaze, “there is one question I would like settled before we begin. About my memories.” Sydney’s expression sobered. “Ashley, you know my answer well enough.” “I am not searching for the absolute. I merely wish to ask how it is possible that I have these memories.” He raised his head slightly, gazing up at the clear sky that resembled one he knew so well. “Both truths… are as real to me as that sky. If one or both are lies, how did they come to be?” Sydney frowned as he pondered the question. Ashley and Merlose waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. “Several possibilities exist,” he concluded. “I would hear them all, then.” “I expected as much.” The cultist shifted on his mount--clearly he was unused to chocobo riding. “When I first touched your soul I reached your original memory very quickly. Leá Monde has a habit for curiosity, you see-- she draws out the whispers within the minds of her inhabitants. Lays her wounds to the bone, so to speak.” “Is that why your powers are so amplified in the city?” asked Merlose. “The city opens our pages, and you merely flip through them.” “Aye, very much as you say. However, as Ashley journeyed deeper into my labyrinth I began to hear more voices-- a change in the whispers,” he continued. “Which led to my conclusion of VKP intervention.” Ashley pursed his lips into a straight line as he recalled that event in the forest clearing. In the aftermath he had fought carelessly--his mind had been in disarray from the horrible visions he’d witnessed. “And Rosencrantz corroborated that story,” he murmured. “There are several explanations.” Sydney counted them off on his slender claws. “First: the memory of your family was created by the VKP, as Rosencrantz and I deduced. Second: the memory of you killing the innocent family was a fabrication, created either by Rosencrantz or the city itself. Though I do not believe Rosencrantz to have been capable of fooling even I.” “Created by the city, then?” Merlose’s brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of the claim. “All this talk of a city with thoughts. Is it possible?” “Aye, I believe so,” Ashley rejoined as Sydney chuckled faintly in amusement. “Sometimes, I could hear it, as Sydney claims to. Every room and street in that place remembered the scenes played out upon them. The city has its own memories.” Sydney’s voice took on an almost nostalgic air. “The walls speak of days past, gossiping among themselves like a flock of senile old men. Each soul has left its mark upon them.” He paused, looking Ashley over. “It may even be possible that one such soul has resided in you, Ashley. You entered the city as a man without a soul-- Leá Monde prefers her dead to dance, ‘ere the souls rot. You may have been mistaken for a corpse, and was filled.” The Riskbreaker didn’t approve of such an analogy, and proved this with a sour look. “Were I possessed, could such a thing escape your attention?” “It is not an impossibility to fool the master, on occasion.” The group fell silent momentarily, considering all that had been said. Merlose was the first to speak. “Even if that were so, how would you determine which memory was the phantom, and which true? Could you exorcize the ghost?” But Sydney wasn’t listening, caught in his own thoughts. He glanced up sharply when Ashley called his name. “Pardon?” “Exorcism,” Merlose repeated. “Could you cure Ashley?” “I’m not so convinced the city is at fault here,” he said distractedly. “There… is something more I neglected to report. Something the dearly departed commander said to me.” “You mean Guildenstern?” Ashley said curiously. “Aye. Just before he… relieved me of my burden.” His shoulders rotated, and for a moment his eyes grew dark with the memory of that pain. “I retained but half of my senses at the time, and I only remembered until early this morning.” He looked at Ashley then, with a kind of penetrating, meaningful look that was almost unsettling in its intensity. “He said that this was not the first time he had ‘won the game,’ and called me by a name other than my own.” Ashley’s straightened, his senses suddenly focusing. He couldn’t help but glance about, as his skin was prickling with the weight of many pairs of anxious eyes. Sydney’s words raised a peculiar apprehension in him; Merlose must have felt the same, as she was chewing her lip. Joshua had also grown still, though whether he had grown bored of the chocobo or was affected by the declaration was undeterminable. “Can you provide an explanation for this?” Ashley asked quietly, feeling oddly disturbed. “You had not met him previously, had you?” “As the head of the Crimson Blades, twas only natural that our paths crossed now and again,” Sydney replied with a vague wave of his hand. “I have always proven too clever a quarry for him, as with his predecessor. However.” His voice lowered suspensefully; Ashley wondered how much of his attitude was merely theatrical. “When he spoke those words within the cathedral, I felt something very profound. I can think of no words to describe it. But they remained in me, hauntingly, and they are with me now. I remember them whenever I look at you.” Ashley stared back at him, still uneasy. Carefully, so as to remain unnoticed, he reached out with his gift. Every time he used it, he felt his mind reacting more quickly to his silent commands. Just as Sydney had described, he quickly came upon the voice, rumbling like a wolf’s growl. “The game ends again, dear friend.” He frowned, and as he puzzled over this new mystery, another voice surfaced-- he’d called upon it without even thinking. “I felt something very profound. It was the first time I feared not for my life, but for my soul.” Ashley broke the connection with a shake of his head. Meeting again… for the first time. Guildenstern knew something we didn’t. As I saw Sydney and myself this night past, engaging in a conversation we could not have shared…. Is there some chapter of life we are all missing? He glanced up at his group, taking in Merlose’s wide, curious eyes, Sydney’s lips twisted in a grim smile, and Joshua, who had returned to patting the chocobo’s crown feathers. I feel as if there is someone here, watching us, expecting something of us. This strange bond I have with Agent Merlose…was I not bound to Guildenstern’s lady as well? As Sydney seems bound to Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz to us both…. “I fail to see what connection you are implying,” Ashley said abruptly. “What has this to do with me?” Sydney’s expression was calm, but also thoughtful--he had been thinking the same. “Perhaps a great deal, perhaps not. But it is possible that both your truths are valid. There may very well be some common past we all share, merely forgotten.” Joshua yawned, interrupting the seriousness of the discussion. Ashley didn’t mind, as he was somewhat grateful for the break of tension. Something within him stirred as the boy stretched and leaned against him. It had been a long time since he’d felt another body this close, especially one so small, and he welcomed it. Joshua wriggled sleepily before letting his eyelids drift shut in slumber. Sydney smiled fondly at the boy, but did not speak. A glance shared with Ashley decided the end of the conversation for now. Being careful not to disturb the child whose pillow he served as, Ashley detached the bag of rations and handed it to Sydney. “Eat up. They’re won’t be any more until we reach Albren.” |