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year 5, quarter 3
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Who asked for a stupidly long scene? No one? Just me?
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Caius agreed. After a long, painful pause, he agreed. She could see that flicker in his eye. The doubt. The fear. That idiot. If Caius could throw himself into danger then Celes could too -- if they really were equals as he claimed. She was right and they both knew it. Even if Caius had an advantage in speed, Charon’s magic could catch him at a distance, and he didn’t have much of a defense for it. And if someone had to fly…
Celes’ stomach turned. She’d rather have thrown herself at a hundred men than stay on this dragon alone.
”I’ll cover you.”
Celes nodded. It wasn’t right to say that she wasn’t nervous, but they had a plan -- and a good one, she thought. Caius wasn’t quite as skilled at a distance as she was, but he was nothing to scoff at either -- and neither was his dragon. They wouldn’t take out the whole place, but they’d cause havoc and that’s what she needed. Caius was the center of attention -- he always had been. They knew his skills, they knew how dangerous he could be, and they wanted him dead. Celes was just along for the ride and though she’d shown off her magic against their dragon, they didn’t know much else about her nor did they seem to care.
They’d keep their eyes on Caius. She was sure of it.
Caius grabbed the reins and then they were rushing down at a speed faster than gravity. Celes let out a cry of pure terror as she grasped him, eyes closed, teeth grit, stomach turning and face nearly pressed into his coat. Don’t faint, don’t faint! She was stronger than that, she knew, even as she thought of water and heat and the jutting rocks of desert islands. She hardly noticed the sound of gunfire. Let them shoot her! It would be better than this.
Caius nudged her. Were they done falling? Celes opened her eyes to see the ground mercifully within reach and she let out a breath of relief as she slid off, hitting the ground hard and stumbling as the vertigo caught up to her. No. The sky could spin later. She swallowed hard, took a breath, and steadied herself on her heels.
It was time to fight.
Fire erupted beside her in a brilliant shot of light. She ignored the cries of alarm and the baking heat that threatened to singe her. She felt her magic well inside her as she readied her blade and turned on Charon.
”CELES! IT’S NOW OR NEVER!”
Celes’ lips soured. So much for the element of surprise.
Whatever Charon was, he wasn’t human -- at least not anymore. His skin was gray and mottled. His bones stuck out in skeletal angles, and his eyes were hollow as the dead. Had she not known better, she’d have thought that a stiff breeze could have blown him over, but he looked steady as ever as he recovered from the last echoes of her magic. His eyes darted from the sky to the dragon and then to Caius zipping around in his flashes of light. Those eyes lit with a sour hatred. Celes didn’t waste time on banter.
She rushed forward, sword in hand. She saw his attention shift. Saw the slight surprise in his eyes before they hardened and he was spinning magic like silk. She was ready for him. In seconds, black power was swelling at his fingertips and then it launched at her like a magitek cannon. She raised her sword.
The power overtook her in cold shadows, she shivered, and then it was gone -- sucked into the light of her sword. He recoiled in surprise. Wasn’t expecting that, were you? She didn’t bother with evasive maneuvers. As he hurled another spell her way, she neutralized it just as quickly.
Any mage was powerless before her blade. At least as long as she kept it ready.
She closed the distance. His eyes hardened -- his mouth drew into a sneer. She swung her blade, and he caught it in the magic he’d woven like metal around his palms. Her blade deflected off it, and she spun with its momentum, righting herself so she could strike at his side.
He was fast. Faster than he had any right to be, but his movements were clumsy. He wasn’t used to front-line fighting. He had no idea what she was capable of.
The man’s lips drew into a sneer. “So he’s having you fight his battles for him?” He whipped himself around and shot black sparks from his hands. Celes’ eyes widened as they struck her -- an electric heat -- and she stumbled, raising her sword only in time to block his palm strike against her.
“This is my fight,” she said. “I’m not here for him.”
Behind her, the sound of sword clashes. Gunfire. Caius was doing his best.
“We’ve watched you.” Charon drew a shimmering shield around himself, and Celes struck it wildly. “Your entire organization. You stay behind while he fights. You follow his lead.”
“That isn’t-!”
“And now he’s sent you here.” He smiled with a dry amusement. “You only know how to stand behind him.”
Celes struck it again -- pointless -- before she thrust her hands together and gathered her magic. Charon muttered incantations of his own. It was a quick-draw battle of spells. They cast together.
”Demi.”
”Blizzaga!”
Celes felt the rush of his spell around her. Shadows. Heavy. Suffocating. She stumbled, her knees going weak. It felt like the cold was draining her, and she struggled to breathe against it. Her ice cracked, and she looked up to see his shield shattering from the force. The glacial spell had done its job, but his shield had taken the worst of the damage. By the time she’d straightened herself, he’d already spun magic back to his hand. It flared at her.
Celes’ eyes widened and she back-stepped, just barely avoiding the singe of flames. He shot again, and she dodged back clumsily, too caught off guard to steady herself. His magic had weakened her. She was slower now. And still, he kept on the offensive.
They danced together -- one forward, one back. Her heel met the edge of a wooden shack. She glanced behind her. There was nowhere else to run.
Heat welled on her chest. Charon had ceased his advance. His hollow eyes were sickeningly satisfied. He could cast before she could so much as raise a finger.
”He killed her,” he said. ”My daughter. They say he didn’t hesitate. Her death was...cold.” Charon looked at her closer. ”He isn’t the man you think he is.”
Celes’ grip tightened on her sword. Darlene. She’d heard the story. The pain in Caius’ voice had been excruciating. As always, death was only met with more death.
Charon watched her carefully. ”I’ve seen the way he strings you along. You and that poor white mage girl. Always into danger. Always into his messes.” He smirked dryly to himself. ”My daughter’s murderer is cruel.”
Celes glanced to the side. Could she dodge quickly enough? She braced herself -- ready to throw herself through the burn of magic, to land on unsteady legs, to raise her sword despite the pain -- when the heat dissipated. She looked up in surprise. Charon had lowered his hand.
”Leave here, girl.” His voice was tired. ”Our fight is not with you. And I am not without mercy.”
Celes stared at him. ”What?” Far away, she heard the sound of a dragon’s screech. Gunshots. Caius.”You can’t just-!”
”Quiet. I know who my enemy is.” His gaze drifted to the sounds of chaos. There were no more aerial flashes. Caius’ warping had exhausted itself. ”He is consumed by hatred.” He spoke thoughtfully, musing more to himself than her. ”He is a monster.”
Celes’ head spun. Here he was -- a demon held together with black magic. A head in the hydra of Caius’ nightmare. A murderer. Here he was -- an old man. Tired. Grieving. He wanted Caius’ life. He wanted any life that stood in his way, and any that would suit his cause. The people here had cowered and fled and ultimately been overtaken. He’d stolen their likenesses and waited, scheming in his spider’s web. Her stomach rolled.
He wanted Caius. He would kill Caius. Her throat tightened as she lowered her head, breathing hard. Her voice cracked.
”Why do you think I’m any better?”
She rushed him. Her blade sank into flesh. She smelled his better scent, and then she yanked her sword away. He stumbled, gasping and grabbing at his wound and the blood that swelled between his fingers. He looked to her in surprise. Betrayal.
That look. That same look. Blue eyes wavering with shock, hurt, pain. Tears streaming down white paint, dripping with red lacquer. Her own hand, trembling with the weight of a blood-stained sword and then-
’HATE HATE HATE HATE’
Her grip tightened. This wasn’t the same.
It wasn’t.
He was still pressing on the wound, gasping. His magic welled in his hand. Cure. Celes swallowed hard. That had been her mistake, hadn’t it? She’d acted without conviction. She hadn’t finished what she’d started.
She approached. He looked at her. Their gazes met in a kind of strange understanding and then she slashed her sword across his throat.
He fell in a muffled thump. Celes heard the air rush out of him. She heard his wet gasps struggling through broken flesh. Celes watched him, numb, before the nausea hit her and she heard her sword hit the ground. She stumbled back, hand over her mouth. It smelled of blood.
Murder. Hatred. Monsters. They mixed together in a copper mist and there was only her left standing over the death rattles. Charon’s eyes were set on the sun.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Spira.” Celes frowned. It wasn’t unusual in the slightest. If Seymour had claimed to be from around here, Celes would have laughed, but there was something about what he’d said that caught her interest. A word. She’d heard that word, hadn’t she?
”That’s...somewhere.” Celes bit her tongue. ”Somewhere without a lot of cities, isn’t it? Where did I…?”
Hear that? The thought buzzed just out of reach like an irritable fly. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to catch it. What did it make her think of? It was a different world than this. Somewhere with temples. And swords. And magic…
Magic. Her eyes lit up in recognition. ”Yuna!” She turned to Seymour with a new sense of interest. ”I know someone from Spira. Her name’s Yuna. I’ve been working with her for a while now. She’s a brilliant mage.”
And she didn’t give compliments lightly. Yuna was a healer who could show even Celes a spell or two. She’d been kind and meek and, well, brilliant as far as Celes was concerned. As a medic at least. Celes had never quite had the same gentle touch.
”It’s funny. I don’t think she’s met anyone from there since she came.” Celes shook her head. What were the chances they’d meet someone at a party of all places? Then again, Celes didn’t put much stock in odds anymore. ”She said something about needing to get home. Well, don’t we all? But I’ll have to tell her you’re here. Seymour, wasn’t it?”
Post by Celes Chere on Jan 21, 2020 8:24:41 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@faruja
You made her mad
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Well…” Celes paused. The military? She hadn’t thought much of them to be honest. She knew they existed, but there wasn’t any kind of centralized force. Not like they'd been in Vector. Somehow, she hadn’t minded that much. ”They’re not ready for anything that comes through from off-world. They don’t have the same experience.”
In other words, the people here were weaker than her. Her opinion wasn’t flattering, but it was true.
”What?” Celes gave him an odd look. ”Do I...look like someone?” It wouldn’t have been the first time. If Setzer was to be believed, she just had one of those faces, but the idea that someone would wish her dead based off of a misunderstanding…
Well, she was far more comfortable being wished dead for what she’d done than for what she hadn’t.
”I’ll keep it in mind,” she said slowly. ”I’m not any kind of ’Alexandrian’ in case you were still wondering. I haven’t even heard of the place.” Still, it all felt familiar, didn’t it? Burmecians. The Kingdom of Lindblum. They were conquered people and nations, she was sure. Maybe in her own way, Celes was an ’Alexandrian’ at heart. She’d conquered enough.
’Faruja.’ Celes blinked at him. The rest of his introduction flew by in a series of unfamiliar words and titles sped through on a breath. Just like before, he spoke as though every word was a race to the finish, and mixed into the madness was…
”A duel?” She stared at him. Had she heard that right? He wanted to…?
”Hmph.” Celes crossed her arms. ”If it’s a fight you want, I’ll give it to you. I don’t need tea.” Celes shoved her hair back over her ear and and shot the window a hard look. It didn’t matter the time, place, or reason. She’d been challenged too many times to much care when it came down to it. ”The training yard. You come when you’re ready.”
With that she turned and marched down the hallway, grabbing her sword from the wall as she went. It was already a whirlwind morning. From the time she’d woken to the time she was accepting challenges, it had hardly been ten minutes, but she knew how to stay on her toes. Waiting would be a sign of weakness. She refused to give it to him.
Once she reached the yard, she turned to the door. The sky was set in a pale orange. The morning chill was brisk on her breath. She swung her sword twice in front of her before brandishing it at her side.
She’d show him exactly what kind of soldier she was.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Ah.” For a moment, Celes could only stare at him. Why had he saluted her? She wasn’t his commanding officer, and had he just said-?
’The recruits might think we fancy one another.’
”No. No, no. No one would think-,” she started but he was still going. Celes felt her mouth open in utter bewilderment. He was straight-backed with his ears perked and his eyes level. Why was he talking like that? It was like something out of a medieval drama -- and a pompous one at that. For all his talk, Celes could hardly keep up, and she couldn’t stop staring.
A fair swordarm? Green tails? Wait, what was the direct approach?
With his steamrolling conversation finished, he finally took a breath, looking her over with a sigh. Celes couldn’t even begin to guess what he was thinking. The whole event had happened so fast that she still hadn’t shaken the sleep from her eyes. Last time she’d pull an all-nighter.
”What we believe in?” Now that was something she could answer. It was promising that he was asking too. ”Well, we think there’s a lot to do to keep this place safe. Not just from monsters but from people too. Caius and I put it together after we-.” Celes rubbed at the side of her head. This was a lot to explain when she barely knew what time it was. ”We had a fight with someone off world. This place isn’t ready for threats like that, and we want to help the people here learn how to defend themselves while we’re at it. I’m running training exercises with them at noon…”
Was she talking too much? She felt like she was talking too much.
”I’m, um. What?” Celes blinked at him. ”My...uniform? No, I uh. This isn’t one. I chose it.” It was one of the perks of being a general. She’d gotten more than a few raised eyebrows at her fashion choices. At least she hadn’t dressed like a clown. ”I’m from Vector,” she said. ”The Geystahlian Empire.”
The name felt wrong on her tongue. She hadn’t identified herself with the Empire in over a year. If the wrong person heard it, she wouldn’t exactly win their favor. She’d deserve it.
”If you’re looking for someone, they’ll be hard to find. Hardly anyone comes through. Or it feels like it anyway.” Celes pushed her hair behind her ear. It wasn’t encouraging, but it was true. ”Are you new here? We have resources for that. We always try to help.” She looked him in the eye and tried for a smile she felt came out wrong. ”What’s your name?”
Post by Celes Chere on Jan 5, 2020 17:26:49 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@faruja
Welcome to the Dragonblades. Have a trainwreck of a general.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Celes was tired.
Well, that wasn’t it exactly. She’d felt tired before. Exhausted, actually, between the mountain hikes and the rebel meetings and waking up at dawn for her military training, but this felt different in a way that she couldn’t quite identify. She was overworked, she supposed, between managing the Dragonblades as a company, the recruits, and her own missions in hand. Caius had told her to sleep. She’d told him she’d sleep when she was dead. Still, she couldn’t deny that she felt her eyes drooping as she looked over the last batch of paperwork for the night.
Frederick could be cleared for a yellow mission in the Hotan highlands. That’d be four thousand, three hundred and fifty gil paid upfront by the contractor. Lucille could be cleared for a green mission over by the Divider. There’d been a series of wolf attacks on the local chocobos and they needed...
”Good 'morn Dames and Sirs!”
Celes let out a squeak as the door thundered in two hard knocks. She shook herself hard, shoving a hand through her hair as she blinked into the lamplight. The room was brighter than she remembered. Morning. Had she fallen asleep? Ink smeared across her right hand where she’d rested it against her papers. She checked to make sure they were intact. Fine.
Gods, if she’d ruined that mission…
The door opened and Celes looked up to see...Well, she didn’t know exactly what it was she saw if she was being honest. It walked like a man. It talked like a man, but it clearly wasn’t human. She cleared her initially shocked expression and looked over each alarming feature in turn. The long snout. The fur-covered skin. The haunches like a chocobo. Celes forced herself as calm as she could manage. She’d met all kinds of strange people since she’d come here. There was no use in staring.
Still, how could she not?
”Ah.” For a moment, she could only gape at him. Then his request struck her and she cleared her throat. ”Ah, right.” She stood up and faced him with her head held high, hoping that she’d rubbed the last of her sleep from her eye. This was a recruit. Nothing but a new recruit, and a militant one at that. She nodded at him.
”I’m Cel-” she started and then paused. ”General Celes Chere.” The man was a soldier. She could tell that at a glance, and if there was anyone she knew how to handle, it was a soldier. Her back straightened.
”At the Dragonblades, we field mercenary requests from across Zephon and delegate them to whoever we see as fit. Skilled swords are always welcome.” She glanced from his armor to the over-sized shield he kept at this side. Then she smiled faintly. ”And if you’re new, we can help you get started.”
Post by Celes Chere on Jan 5, 2020 17:03:11 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@caius
She's not flying that dragon, bro
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Ah!” Celes let out a cry, braced herself, and then a hand found her own. She grasped onto it for her life and looked up wildly. Caius. Of course it was Caius. She let out a breath and pulled herself up by his grip, grasping onto him tightly as she regained her balance. Her magic was cast -- just like they’d needed -- and her fingers were shaking. If he ever, ever asked her to do that again…
”Celes. Listen, I’ve thought about it…”
Celes opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. They couldn’t leave Charon alive. Once the magic-infused dragon was fizzled out, he’d be too tired to fight for much longer. People would die if the bandit leader was left alive. Celes’ nails dug deeper into Caius’ jacket.
”You're right,” she said. ”If we can get the shot anyway.” But that wasn’t the end of it. Not at all. And what he said next made her stomach turn.
”I need you to fly Vordun for me.”
”What?” Celes gaped at him. For a moment, she wasn’t entirely certain that she’d heard correctly. Fly for him? Did he know what he was talking about? Did he know who he was talking to? It was such an absurd request that at first, Celes couldn’t say anything at all. He pleaded as though it was a matter of sheer will alone, and then told her to flee and report back if he died.
The idiot.
”No!” She gave him a fierce look. ”You want me to fly your dragon? You can fly him yourself! If someone has to stay out of it then I’ll be the one to kill him!” She didn’t know how to fly. She didn’t want to fly, and all that aside, she wasn’t about to have him sending her off for her own good. She scoffed and eyed the scorched village below.
”We’ll fight him together or you’ll be the one to report it,” she said. ”You wouldn’t do against a mage on your own, and I’d crash if you left me alone on this thing.” Celes glanced at him and smiled wryly. "So you do me a favor and let me off. I'll show him how useless his magic really is."
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
The man switched. It happened in an instant -- one moment he held his sword steady, rage flaring in his eyes. The next, his expression was vacant of all but a hollow smile, and he was brushing the entire matter aside. Celes felt her eyes narrow. He was backing off from a fight he couldn’t win. The coward. She waited until he’d seated himself to cautiously lower her hands. Her magic dissipated in slow order. She didn’t trust him.
Celes glanced at Caius and then follows him, standing behind him like the extra blade she was. It wasn’t usually her position to intimidate. In fact, she’d often found that she had the opposite effect, but this was Caius’ fight and she knew went to let someone else take the wheel. She watched the man for any signs of violence. A twitch of his hand. A side glance to the door. Caius could handle the talking. She’d keep them both alive.
Which left her taken aback when the conversation shifted to her.
”What?” She blinked at Caius and then back at their guest. Had he heard that? Celes felt a familiar heat rise to her cheeks. ”Really, you don’t have to-” She could fight her own battles, and she didn’t need him involved. He said that she could handle himself, but simply bringing it up at all told her otherwise. ”Is this the best time?”
Thankfully the warning didn’t last long. If they’d talked about her any longer, she didn’t know how long she could have bit her tongue.
Celes let out a sigh of relief as their business continued. Caius went on in his usual Caius way. Too much talk. So much that it was nearly drowning, in fact, and Celes could have smirked her approval. Really, the man hadn’t known what he was getting into -- coming here and asking questions. The story he told was as familiar as it was meaningless. Celes had heard all the words before but still couldn’t quite connect them. This was a matter of his world, and his alone. All she could do was sympathize.
And all the stranger could do was listen. He frowned. His eyebrows furrowed, and then a strange kind of humor touched him. He laughed. ”It would seem that perhaps I was long dead.”
”Dead?” Celes gave him a strange look before glancing again to Caius. She’d heard of people who thought themselves dead. Zack for instance. She’d heard all kinds of claims, but this was one of the most absurd. She didn’t know why. A man coming back to life was just as impossible no matter how much time had passed, but the thought left her uneasy all the same.
’I can promise you that not a single name you mentioned is in our history.’
Celes pushed her hair behind her ear. The tone of the conversation had changed. There was some manner of understanding now though she couldn’t say that Caius was helping much with that. The dead king had asked his question, and Caius hadn’t answered it. Maybe Celes would have pointed it out if she’d had anything but contempt for the questioner.
What was this place? Did it really have control over time? What did it mean for any of them if it did?
Celes bit the inside of her cheek. Now wasn’t the time for anything but truth. This was a matter between their worlds, and she was only a bystander. Still, she couldn’t help but hold her breath. She felt that they’d both be rocked by the answer.
Post by Celes Chere on Dec 19, 2019 8:13:27 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@caius
Oh boy you got Celes mad
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Celes jolted into Caius, hands clutching him like claws and mouth clamped shut. She heard herself make a noise. Had she made a noise? Her stomach dropped out from under her as the dragon thrust itself into the sky. ’Hook her legs?’ How had he shown her earlier? Her weight bounced with every flap of the dragon’s wings. She was so loose. So unbalanced. Ready to fall.
She slammed her eyes shut. Falling from the splintering wood of an airship. Falling from island cliffs, braced to dash against the rocks below. Falling…
Gunfire. She glanced down then froze, tense and cold. This wasn’t like an airship. No, this was nothing like an airship. One slip and she’d crash into the ground below. It felt like she was teetering one step from death. Her heart pounded hard in her ears.
”We need to make our opportunity to flee ourselves.”
”What?” Celes couldn’t break her eyes from the ground. The people below were small. Their rifles looked almost harmless though of course she knew that they weren’t. Would Magiteck have reached so far? She didn’t know, but she’d seen what Caius’ guns could do. And then there was the light.
”Magic,” she muttered. But was Charon skilled enough to strike them from this distance? It didn’t matter. Instead of a spell, it manifested something else. It gathered its light, swelling larger and larger until it burst out with a flash. Wings unfolded from its back. A tail smashed against the ground. Celes stared at it, her sense of vertigo momentarily forgotten. Caius muttered the word that both of them were thinking.
”A dragon?”
The dragon opened its maw, flashed his fangs. A light of its own gathered in its throat, growing and growing until-
”Eek!” Celes thrust herself forward, shoving her face directly in Caius’ back as Vordun dodged sideways and her stomach upended. Dry heat singed her back and she swallowed, clutching him with trembling hands. Vordun was weaving in and out and Celes’ head was spinning.
’No, no, no, no, no.’
Vordun righted himself. Caius said that they needed to take out the dragon if they wanted to escape. Celes grit her teeth and pulled back, looking at the thing over his shoulder. It was crimson, ugly, and though Celes had fought several dragons before, this one was particularly massive. It was a bad scenario in the best of times, and this was not the best of times. Caius cried out to her. Vulnerable when it was charging? She could understand that, but her spells…
Casting would mean bringing her hands together. It would mean letting go of Caius. ’No, no, no, no, no.’
Yet there it was. Charging. In seconds, it would launch a fireball that they couldn’t avoid. Those seconds ticked down like the count of a bomb.
8, 7, 6, 5, 4
Celes cursed loudly and thrust herself back so hard that she nearly toppled over. ’Don’t think don’t think, don’t think!’ She swayed as Vordun bucked her back and forth, but a fire had lit inside her. She nearly shouted her incantation, felt her magic chill her straight through, and then let it go with a cry of ”Blizzaga!”
The air cracked around the dragon in instant frost and then icicles sprouted from the dragon’s throat like sharpened spears. It cried out in pain, recoiling as its mouth closed and it staggered back. Celes didn’t stop casting.
”Blizzaga!” She struck it on its hardened scales. It screeched again though she knew it wasn’t as effective. She didn’t care. Her head swam with panic and adrenaline all together.
Damn it all! That dragon, those villagers, and Charon!
”Blizzaga!” She spread her spell wide and icicles shot from all directions, spearing towards the crowds and the men and their rifles. They cried out, and though her magic was weakened by the ground it covered, some of them fell and others fled. Her eyes landed on the mage.
Damn him!
Her blood pumped with panic. It spurred her magic on until it was nearly bursting. She knew she’d run out eventually, but the thought didn’t land. She tangled her fingers together, muttering furiously. Then she cast again.
”Blizzaga!”
As soon as the word left her lips Vordun gave a violent jerk and she was wrenched sideways. She shrieked, but she hardly heard it over the sudden tightness of her throat, the cold only partly taken by magic, and then the flailing panic that took her as she felt herself lose balance, hands still clenched together.
She didn’t see her magic land and suddenly she didn’t care. There was only her cry, the dragon’s wings, and the drop below.
Post by Celes Chere on Dec 15, 2019 9:46:33 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@caius
Mm. What will he choose?
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”Eek!”
Celes stomach jumped to her throat as they jolted through the air, light flashing. She held on desperately to his sleeve, nails digging in hard as the sky turned and her head spun. Then it was over, and she stumbled out of the magic, dizzy and shaking. She’d never get used to it. Never, no matter how many times Caius had to drag her along. She took a few more steps to steady herself, tottering up against Caius until her back hit his arm.
The village melted like something out of a painting. For a moment she saw it -- the burned wreckage of Miranda or Jidoor -- before her eyes cleared and she was only in the forest, hunted and desperate. Her pulse pounded with familiarity. She’d been here too many times.
She wasn’t surprised by the town’s fate. What else could it have been, really? Caius, however, had gone pale. He growled his fury, and Celes glanced to him. ”Now’s not the time,” she said though she knew he wouldn’t listen. He was enraged, and he’d be out for vengeance. Her stomach rolled. Could she force him away if she had to? They were too outnumbered for a fight. There was only one way out alive, and she doubted his pride would take it.
”We have to go,” she said carefully. Something had steadied him. That anger was gone, replaced by something…
Well, she didn’t know quite what exactly, but she didn't think she liked it. It looked like the calm before the storm. Whatever he’d decided to do, he was ready for it.
”Trust you?” She looked wildly into his eyes for something she could hold onto. ”Caius, I don’t think-”
He raised his blade and shot once into the air.
”Ah!” The sound was deafening. She shoved her hands against her ears and fought back curses. What was he doing? She turned to reprimand him when a thought came to her. It wasn’t a gunshot. It was a flare.
”Oh,” she said. ”Oh.” Her heart dropped. Of course he’d call for Vordun. Of course he would in a time like this. They’d get out of firing range, he said. She’d hold onto him, he said. They’d take to the air, and then-
Dizzy. So dizzy. Had she fallen? She couldn’t remember. Oh, from that height-!
”Please! Celes!”
”What?” She looked up, staring at him. Vordun was there. Caius was on his back. He held out a hand for her.
”Oh.” She shook her head sharply. This was no time to be losing her head.
She ran towards him, seized his hand, and used it to vault onto the creature’s scaly back. She thrust herself against him, clenching so tightly that she wondered if he could breathe. It didn’t matter. She’d see this through or she’d die trying.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
She let Caius handle the situation.
Once he’d entered the room, Celes stood with her hand at her hip and her shoulder against the door. She still held her sword though she wasn’t equipped for much else. The stranger was suspicious -- possibly dangerous. After what she’d seen of Caius’ enemies, anyone asking for him specifically was a threat. She wouldn’t put it past any of them to lure him out with lies. Still, this one seemed different. Celes kept a close eye in case he made any movements against them.
Caius dutifully summoned his blade. The stranger recoiled in surprise, eyes shocked and then heated. Celes’ stomach rolled on instinct. She didn’t like the way he looked at him. She didn’t like that self-righteous glint to his eyes.
And then Caius dropped a name. She watched the stranger’s eyes change. Confusion, offense, and then…
Celes dropped her sword and shoved her hands together, magic blaring. Light burst from the stranger’s hand, materializing in a blade of his own that he brought against Caius in an instant. Caius returned in kind, aiming the barrel of his gun into the point of the man’s sword. Celes muttered her words in aggressive rhythm, and the air dropped twenty degrees, frost glinting in the air. It was a warning -- her warning. She knew well enough that magic wasn’t ideal in such cramped quarters, but it was more impressive than her sword. It was only a bluff if he stood down.
She held her magic steady, eyes cold and measured. The stranger wanted to talk about family names of all things. Did he have some kind of vendetta against Caius’ king? It didn’t matter. If he moved to attack, he’d get a bullet for his trouble, and he’d find himself frozen a second later. Maybe Celes would heal him. Maybe she wouldn’t, but that hardly mattered.
