Walking Delusions

a/n: Update time! I hope you enjoy! Big thanks to MistressSubmission for her review! I really enjoyed it!

Chapter Sixteen: A Bittersweet Lament

In sadness and destiny, there is no way,
No straight path to take away the pain.
If there is just one more chance,
Then by the gods, the dead will dance.
I was lost in my own deeds,
A repeated past revealed in the dreams.
Still, he cackled that sulfurous breath,
And stealthily, I find that iniquitous death.

I was lucky. Within the first few minutes, I stumbled across a thick overhanging of pine-like trees which had managed to protect a small area from the effects of the rain. There I found three small logs which were dry enough to burn. Feeling rather proud of myself, I headed deeper, keeping the sight of free sky between trunks within my sight.

It took some scrounging, and lots of creeping and jumping behavior on my part, but I managed to collect a sizable amount of firewood. One wretched rabbit had darted across my path, causing me to shriek in absolute terror before realizing that it was harmless and laughing at myself for being such an idiot. I was even auspicious enough to find a small patch of that long burning moss that Ryou had pointed out to me not long ago. It was crap for starting a fire, but once you got one good and going, it helped it burn hotter and longer. Great stuff.

With victory held in my hands, I returned to the camp. I was covered in mud but found that I didn’t care, too damn proud of myself for managing this one simple task. At least they couldn’t say I was useless any longer. In all, it had probably taken me a total of twenty minutes to slog through the ridiculous mire of the forest soil. That I didn’t understand.

It was hard-packed out on the plains, resistant to the soaking that the storm had provided. But beneath the thick canopy, the dirt had quickly turned to mush so gooey that one step had me sinking in to my ankles. It was thick and black, too, making for nasty stuff to clean off. And with no river in near sight, I was doomed to wandering around covered in mud. How fun.

“Dammit Ryou! That fuckin’ hurts!”

The moment I stepped out of the trees I was greeted with Ivory snarling angrily as she pulled away from Ryou, the monk attempting to apply a poultice to the wound on her collarbone. She had stripped down to the waist, except for the small undergarments that barely covered her breasts, and one hand was pressed to his chest, trying to force him away.

His jaw was set stubbornly, furrowing his brows close together. “Stop squirming,” he chastised in a tone I wasn’t used to hearing him take. “Screechers aren’t exactly the cleanest of beasts. Who knows what nasty things are in their claws.”

I lifted a brow, sweeping my gaze over the campsite. Neither Vincent nor Melath were in sight, not that it was unusual in the slightest. Still, seeing Ivory and Ryou acting like that towards one another was strange. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. And pretty certain that they hadn’t heard my approach, I stepped heavily, squelching through the ground and coughing as if there were a tickle in my throat.

Ryou looked up and smiled. Ivory scowled. Now those were more predictable.

I gestured towards them with my burden. “Where do you want this?”

The monk tilted his head towards a space he had cleared in the mush, a few large and dirty stones half-attempting to make a fire pit. I complied, dropping the kindle and piles of moss into the circle with a grunt. My arms itched from the bark and I shuddered as I hurriedly brushed insects from my cloaks and tried my best not to show it.

There was another hissed curse behind me. “Ryou!”

I turned to find him not so gently wiping at the jagged cut, blood still seeping freely. He shook his head, dropping the rag. “I’m going to have to pack it,” he said frankly, deftly avoiding her annoyed swat and stepping towards me. “I’ll need some salica.”

“I don’t need any of that herb bullshit,” Ivory snarled, grabbing a cloth and pressing it to the wound. “Just wrap it like you usually would.”

The look he gave her amused me. “And have you complain later of sickness? No.” He gestured me closer with a smile. “Will you stay here, Miss Anne?”

I frowned. “Why?”

I didn’t relish for one moment remaining alone with Ivory. We tolerated each other at best. Not that she would do much physically but who was to say that I would restrain myself from attacking her if she kept up her usual disdain. No, the last thing he needed to do was leave us alone together.

He reached into one of the pouches hanging at his side and shook it, attempting to prove its emptiness. “I’ve no salica.”

“I can find it,” I suggested hurriedly. Anything to get out of babysitting Ivory, which was surely what he wanted me to do. “Just describe it or something. I was a Botany major; I’m pretty sure I could recognize it.”

He blinked. “Botany?” Ryou repeated before shaking his head. “Never mind. It’s probably better I don’t ask.” He sighed and hitched up his robes, kneeling and smoothing over a portion of the ground.

I crouched and watched as he sketched out the leaves, narrating it the best he could. “It likes damp, dark places and grows low to the ground,” he explained. I watched his sketches with interest, surprised to find that it closely resembled a four-leaf clover. Everyone and their brother knew what those looked like. It should have been a piece of cake.

“I think I saw it,” I offered helpfully, vaguely recalling lots of light green foliage against the ground. I wasn’t lying, per se, but exaggerating the truth. I wanted to be of some use again.

Ryou nodded though his forehead was furrowing in worry. I could see his mothering instincts riling up, almost as if they were spines on his back. “If you’re sure,” he began slowly, not sounding certain at all.

But I most definitely was. I backed away, trying not to appear as if I were escaping. “Positive,” I said with more bravado then I felt. “Just leave it to me,” I finished lamely, and with that, I hurried back into the forest.

I liked Ryou well enough. He was the closest thing I had to a friend, but sometimes, his concern left me stifled. Granted I probably need the protection since I was so disastrously inept, but it didn’t help my pride any.

I returned to the tightly grown trees and thick canopy with more confidence this time. I had survived my first lone foray into wood-gathering and so, it stood to reason that I could successfully procure a plant and live to tell the tale. I was feeling marginally better as well, with no Vincent dogging my steps and insinuating things.

The ground remained soft beneath my steps and I looked down to find that my footprints were clearly distinguishable. If anything, I could easily follow them back. Which meant I could head deeper into the forest without worrying if I lost sight of the edge. I kept my gaze on the ground as I walked however, keeping my eyes peeled for what was essentially a four-leaf clover. I only hoped it wasn't as difficult to find as they were at home. Three-leaves? Piece of cake. Four? Near an impossibility.

I pushed through brush, wincing every time a drop of water slithered from the branches above and down the back of my cloak. I could hear the steady drip-drop of the forest around me, but surprisingly enough, no sounds of wildlife. A slight fog was beginning to hover around, likely an after effect of the storm. I had seen it often enough back home. Still, the forest didn't have the same creepy aura as the one I had seen Maya in. I was glad for that, not ready for any more strange encounters.

After around twenty minutes of walking in aimless circles, pretending I knew what I was doing, I caught sight of some light green herby stuff growing under a sea of bushes I had been avoiding. I immediately dropped down to peer closer at them, nearly crowing when I realized it was what I was searching for, albeit only one or two of them. However, there was more further in. All I had to do was crawl in the mud to get them.

I debated for all of a moment before deciding that my clothes couldn't possibly get any messier than they were. Hitching up the robes, I dropped to my hands and knees and started forward, cursing every time a branch snagged my hair. Ryou wasn't kidding when he said the damn plants liked shaded places. If any sun could get through these leaves it would be a miracle.

It took great effort for me to turn around and crawl right back out. Grumbling to myself, I rose to my feet and tried to brush the mud clumps off, salica being shoved unenthusiastically into one of the few pouches I had. My hands paused mid-process however when I happened to glance up and catch sight of something I hadn't expected to see. Without second thought, I darted around a tree and peered around it.

Not far from my current position, barely visible through the thick press of trees, I saw Melath and Vincent engaged in conversation. Not a rarity considering all that I had learned about them. But my curiosity had unusual times to rear its head and I was dying to know what they were discussing. Wary of my position, I tried to creep closer, hiding behind trees until I could just barely make out scraps of their words.

“I've told you before...” Melath was saying, but I didn't catch the rest of it.

It almost sounded like they were arguing. I hadn't realized, until that moment, just how short Vincent was compared to Melath. Nor had I understood just how tall the elf was either.

Vincent had his back to the other man, hands clenched into fists at his side. It was the most emotion I had ever seen on his face and boy, was it telling.

Melath said something else and a flurry of emotions crossed over Vincent's face. My eyes rounded when I realized that of all things, he looked hurt. Like he had just been dumped or something.

I watched as Vincent whirled on his heels, snapping in return. “I didn't ask for this!” he hissed through clenched teeth, just loud enough for me to hear. “You can't expect me to--”

“I didn't ask you to,” Melath countered, visibly calm. “I only wondered what it would take to make this go away.”

My curiosity climbed to astronomical heights. I longed to know what they were talking about.

Vincent shook his head, almost violently, looking as if he really wanted to punch something. I pitied the nearest tree since it would probably take the brunt of his anger. He muttered something that I couldn't catch and moved, probably meaning to walk away. But before he could even managed to turn, Melath's arm shot out and grabbed his, stopping him in his tracks.

“You do not trust me?” the elf asked, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I wanted to get closer but didn't think I had the stealth skills enough to pull it off. I peered cautiously around my tree instead, ready to duck back at a moment's notice. No way in hell was I planning on getting caught.

Something glimmered in golden eyes. “I don't trust anyone,” Vincent responded, significantly less angry than he had been before.

“Pity,” Melath murmured, reaching up with one hand and cupping Vincent's face rather gently, to my astonishment. It was the type of touch more suited to lovers than the type of relationship I had seen between them.

His finger briefly brushed Vincent's cheek before he drew their mouths together for a kiss that was more gentle than I would have expected. I couldn't see too much from this distance, but it definitely was nothing like the voracious claiming I had witnessed before or the dominating sex either.

At that moment, I felt as if I were intruding on something very, very private. I suddenly didn't want to witness anymore, and couldn't explain the strange gripping inside of my chest. It felt as if something were squeezing my lungs and heart with a massive paw.

My forehead itched and I irritably reached up to rub at the spot before turning away from the randomly romantic scene, creeping as quietly as I was capable away.

Releasing a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding in, I found my footprints and began following them back to the camp, mind abuzz with what I had witnessed. Just when I thought I had a handle on the situation, that I understood what was going on around me, something rose up to smack me in the face, reminding me of how truly ignorant I was. It was disappointing.

It took me a good thirty minutes to carefully pick my way back. I hadn't even realized that I had journeyed so far out and my stomach twisted at the thought of all the dangerous things that could have happened to me. While my stubbornness and will had grown, my courage had not. I was in no hurry to die... again.

On the edge of the forest, just before I stepped beyond the cover and out into the plain, I caught a glimpse of something crimson from the corner of my eye. It was startlingly bright against the dark and green. I swiveled my head to the side, pausing in my tracks, but could not find any trace of what I had seen.

“Probably seeing things again,” I mumbled under my breath. In all likelihood, it was just a bird or something. Even if I couldn't hear or see any wildlife, that didn't mean there wasn't any.

I dismissed it without a second thought and stepped out of the trees, into the open plain. It took me a moment to realize what was going on since I had looked down, double checking to make sure that I still had the salica in my pouch. But when I finally lifted my eyes, it was to gasp in surprise and drop all of my carefully gathered plants to the mud.

Twenty men or more had surrounded our makeshift camp, and both Ryou and Ivory were under restraint, shoved on their bellies on the ground with weapons pointed at their backs. The men weren't like the Rajab tribe, all savage-like and painted. No, these were civilized men in clothes resembling something from the sixteenth century though they wielded swords and not anything close to guns.

Without a second thought, I turned on my heels with every intention of racing back into the trees where it was safe. It was perhaps cowardly, but I wasn't a hero. My first thought wasn't to save my friends, but my own skin. Besides, what good could I do against twenty-armed men when I couldn't even protect myself against a bat three-quarters of my size?

Maybe a small part of me had remembered Vincent and Melath, locked in their loving embrace somewhere in the forest. It was possible that I might have intended to seek them out and warn them, or in all rationality, I was out to save myself. Thinking back, I can't be sure.

Either way, I didn't get very far in my flight. The moment I turned, there were three more men there behind me, one of them wearing a bright red bandana wrapped around his upper fore arm. The irony of it was a painful smack in the face. If I had only known a bit more to be wary, I could have escaped my fate.

I darted to the left, thinking maybe I could evade.

“No, you don't,” one of the men gruffly spat out, moving far faster than I would have expected. His hand shot out and wrapped around my upper arm, dragging my fleeing body to a halt.

I fought back when he grabbed me, jerking my body from side to side and desperately trying to get away. His friends quickly came to his aid and I fought them, too. I stomped on one of the men's foot and scratched at the arm of another, pulling up long welts with my nails. But it was useless. A quick backhand across the face, hard enough to cut into my cheek and make my head spin was enough of a distraction for them to subdue me.

My knees weakened from the blow, ears ringing in my skull, and they dragged me towards our camp, dropping me unceremoniously to the ground besides Ryou. I hit hard as they shoved me down, immediately grabbing my hands behind my back and roughly binding them with twine.

“Miss Anne,” Ryou said with miserable surprise, his eyes blinking at me a bit blearily. He had a wound, his forehead bleeding profusely from where they had struck him with something.

I gasped when a booted foot planted itself on my back, driving me downwards until I was face first in the mud. I quickly turned my head to the side, spiting out the foul dirt.

“Ryou,” I managed to croak. “What's going on?”

“More trouble on your part most likely,” Ivory said with a snort, seemingly unconcerned with the arrow protruding from her shoulder, haft broken in two. She was bleeding and her own eyes glazed over with pain, but damned if she was going to have her pride to the end.

She couldn't see the guilty look that crossed Ryou's face as he turned his head away and stared down at the mud. “It's not Miss Anne's fault this time,” he mumbled under his breath, looking slightly shamed of himself.

I furrowed my brow, trying to ignore the massive boot grinding down into my spine. “What do you-- agh!” The heel shoved down into my back.

“Quiet you!” A voice above me ordered, stomping down a bit too eagerly.

I promptly closed my mouth, biting my lip against the pain. It was a flashback back to the beginning, when I had been taken by the Ectow. Only, these were humans this time and probably more inclined to raping. Wonderful.

It hurt my neck to look up, but I could listen well enough. I laid my head on the mud, ignoring the disgusting squish and tried to imagine I was somewhere else. Preferably somewhere tropical where every confusing thing that was swirling around me had vanished. I had a Pina Colada on the table next to me and stared at beautiful blue water while my hot boyfriend surfed on the waves.

“There were two more in the group, Emon,” one of the men above me said, pulling me out of my little fantasy.

I caught sight of thick brown boots shifting from side to side on my periphery. Next to them was a more calm set, black leather standing firm and resolute. Most likely Emon since he seemed to be the one in charge.

“It doesn't matter,” responded a deep-chested voice, making me think of a lumberjack or something similar. “We have the one we're after.”

'Me,' I thought miserably. Considering all that had occurred, my assumption wasn't too random.

However, I was surprised when a few seconds later, it was Ryou who was being hauled to his feet. I craned my neck to see, watching as the twine on his hands was replaced with something much larger. The shame on his face was practically radiating as he looked at the ground and refused to match eyes with me. I know the sound of my jaw dropping was probably audible for miles.

Brown Boots strode towards Ryou, smirking with glee. “One of their own and still thought ya could run, hmm?” he asked, though it was more mocking than actual curiosity. “There's a pretty high sum for your capture, monk. Alive or dead. So behave and we'll let ya live.”

Ryou didn't answer, just keep his eyes on the ground. He sagged in the hold of the two guards to either side of them. Brown Boots didn't seem to like his silence. He sneered and violently struck out with a fist, catching Ryou in the belly. My friend doubled over, gasping and dry retching from the blow. But the hands on him kept him from falling over to the ground.

I winced and looked away. Violence was all well and good, but not when I had to see it against my friends or against myself. Save that shit for the movies. This was really freaking me out and that fear cropped up again, dropping my breath into my belly and making my heart pound in my chest.

As Ryou gasped for breath, they left him alone and headed our way. I heard their footsteps but didn't want to look up. That childish belief that if I didn't make eye contact, the monster wouldn't see me kept me from even raising my head.

“And these ones?”

'Don't look. Don't look. Don't lo-- “Owww!” Hands grasped into my hair and pulled, yanking me upwards by the head and my bound wrists. I was dragged onto my knees and forced to look up at the man towering over me, Ivory facing the same treatment.

The man was dark, the darkest I think I had seen since I stepped foot onto this world. Teeth a startling bright white against his skin and hair glossy black down to his shoulders. As if he were the very darkness itself. I gaped at him for a moment before remembering that yes, this was not the time to be ogling our captors.

He sneered down at us, his eyes flickering between Ivory and I, brow raising when they settled on her. “You look familiar,” he said to her. She didn't dignify that with a response, glaring poisonously. “I think there's a bounty on this one as well.”

Gee, some good people I was traveling with here. Half of the crew had bounties on their heads. I was willing to bet that Melath and Vincent did as well. I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe I would have been safer with Constance, perish the thought.

One of the men stirred beside him, digging a hand into his pocket to pull out a crumpled piece of parchment. He scanned it quickly before nodding. “Yer right.” His brows lifted in surprise. “Whoah, boss. Way more than I'd think for a woman.”

The 'boss' twisted his lips into a happy smirk. “Then she'll live.” He turned his intense gaze on me and I quailed, feeling myself grow stronger. “And this one?”

Brown Boots, whose voice and shoes I had come to recognize, shook his head. “Not a damn copper. She's too small to be a slave.” He frowned at me, mentally evaluating my use. “I doubt she'll survive being a whore either. Completely worthless.”

If I had thought my self-esteem was low then, that probably would have made it sink further. As it were, I was too terrified to think like that. A part of me wished that being worthless meant they would just let me go and be on my merry way.

My luck didn't hold.

Boss man turned on his heels and shook his head. “Kill her and be done with it,” he said as he gestured for Ivory to be shackled much like Ryou. “We don't need the extra baggage.”

My eyes widened as my breath caught in my throat, a sudden fear gripping me. “What?” I exclaimed, aghast and instantly struggling in the arms of those that were holding me.

“No!” I heard Ryou shout before my head was tugged backwards by my hair and I found myself staring up at the grey sky, gasping for a breath that wasn't coming.

There was no ceremony, no waiting, no debating. I caught a glint of something metal from the corner of my eye; I felt the tightening of fingers in my hair. I heard Ryou's horrified cry before it was muffled. Terror gripped and I wanted to scream.

Then the knife slit across my throat in a matter of seconds, so quickly that I didn't even feel the pain. I gurgled, the horrible taste of my own blood bubbling in the back of my throat. My lips moved but nothing emerged as warmth cascaded down my front. They released my hair and arms, letting me fall forwards and I collapsed on my face, world dimming around me.

There was commotion, something going on around me. I didn't know what, concentrating too much on the disconcerting feeling of choking on my own blood. My last thoughts were surprisingly blank except perhaps for the repeated, 'Oh shit. I'm dying. They really killed me. Oh fuck.'

And then there was darkness.

However, if that were all that happened to me, then the story would end here and now. And if you were reading this, you would notice that there is probably a good bit of book left, which meant something must have happened. And you would be right.

I felt as if I were falling forever into darkness, floating in an endless sea of nothing without fear or pain or happiness. It was just pure emptiness and I couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. I couldn't really feel at all. I wondered, in that darkness, if I even had a body or if I was just a consciousness drifting along.

“Is this heaven?” I said aloud, though I felt no lips move and no passing of breath through my throat. Perhaps I only thought it within my mind that I had spoken since I didn't even hear it. I couldn't be sure.

Then something slithered out of the darkness, a voice that was familiar and yet not. It made a shiver race down my spine. “If that is what you believe than you are more foolish than I initially thought.”

I knew, in a moment, that it was not Ixion or the weeping man from the other dreams. Nevertheless, I felt as if I had experienced this in some manner before. I turned my head to the side, felt the sloshing of some liquid. And then realized that my eyes were closed. No wonder it was so dark.

It took great effort for me to peel my eyelids upwards, as if great weights were dragging them down. When I finally managed to look around me, I found that I was actually floating in water within a wide open space, lit by some unknown source. I was on my back, which was freaky because in real life I don't know how to swim. My nose twitched at the scent of something syrupy sweet in the same moment that something brushed my ear.

Predictably, I flipped out and started flailing around in the water. I gasped and desperately splashed my hands, sinking downwards in the tepid liquid. Then my ass hit the bottom and I found myself sitting waist-deep in the water, illuminated by a whitish blue light. I whipped my head around but the place was deserted. Looking down, I discovered that the thing that had touched me was just a water lily. There were dozens of them scattered about the pool or lake or whatever it was.

“I'm not dead?” I asked myself rhetorically, more to fill the silence than an expectation of something answering me.

I was incredibly confused and my hand automatically lifted to my throat but it was whole, not even an evidence of a scar. I could still taste the blood on my tongue and it made my stomach churn.

Behind me, I heard the sudden sound of legs swishing through the water. “Oh no, you are dead. A knife to the throat will do that to you.”

I whirled around and tried to look at who had spoken to me, but all of the sudden I was faced with a blinding light that made me cringe. I closed my eyes and turned back around lest I go blind, my head spinning from the brightness.

“Ah, apologies,” the voice said, not sounding the least bit contrite. In fact, if I had to guess, he sounded annoyed. “It slipped my mind to warn you.”

Placing my hand over my eyes so that I wouldn't accidentally take a peek, I scrambled to my feet, uncomfortable with my vulnerable position. “Where am I?” I demanded, not quite sure what I was supposed to believe. “Who are you?”

“Well, you're not in Heaven. And I'm not Jesus,” he answered drolly, stepping forward with another sound of movement through water.

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. Just like Ixion, this man was only treating me like some sort of idiot. “I didn't ask what you aren't but what you are.”

He chuckled and my hackles rose. I resisted the urge to turn around and attack, knowing that if this person brought me to this place, then he was likely strong enough to kill me in a single blow. Unless I was already dead. Then I supposed I couldn't die again. Still, I had no desire to experience pain of any kind. I shuddered at the mere thought of the knife against my throat, that sick feeling climbing further into my belly.

“Dear Anne, I am nothing. I know what I am not but since I am nothing, I therefore cannot answer the question.”

More games. I was getting sick of them. “Why am I here?” I asked through a squared jaw, hoping that answers would be provided on a new subject.

It took me that long to notice how dreadfully still the air was around me, not even the barest whisper of wind. And it was so damn quiet that it was unnerving. I couldn't even hear the lap of water on some far shore. There was absolutely nothing.

Hands settled on my shoulders and I jumped in surprise, especially when he leaned forward, closer to me. “Do me a favor, ne?” he said lowly, practically whispering the word in my ear and causing me to shiver. “Stop dying.”

Unlike the other dreams, his touch did not burn. It did not cause me pain or anything. Instead I felt pleasant, natural... soothed even. A part of me wanted to fall backwards into his arms and let my life drift away on some unknown, invisible wind. I thought perhaps there would be peace in a silent eternity. Yet, another, more stubborn side of me, wanted to turn around and slug him just out of principality's sake.

“I... what?”

“It is rather irksome to continue restoring you,” he responded with a hint of amusement. “So use your bow for Tears' sake and learn some fighting skills. Get Ryou to teach you if you must.”

My eyes widened as my heart leapt into my throat. This was the one! The same that had spoken for me in the judgment and the one who had warned me with the freaky poem. Which meant he knew something, anything. Hell, this could all be his damned fault for all that I was aware.

“You know what's going on!” I yelled, fighting in his grip to turn and face him, blindness be damned. But his fingers were like damn iron bars. “You know, dammit! Tell me why this is happening! Tell me!” I twisted in his grip, frustration fueling my actions.

His hands bore down on my shoulders, squeezing hard enough to make my bones creak. I gasped and stopped moving, knees buckling slightly. “And lose my fun?” he asked in a growling voice that slithered across my skin. “I think not.”

Indignation made me bristle like an angered cat. “Fun?” I spat angrily, my hands balling into a fist. “This is a game? My fuckin' life is a game?”

On the very edges of my vision, a darkness was beginning to creep in. I realized with growing horror that the dream or whatever I was experiencing, was fading. “No, dammit,” I cried, not really speaking to anyone in particular. “I don't know yet.”

“It is much more than a game, Anne,” the man said, his hold loosening just slightly though he continued to speak directly into my ear. “Do not disappoint me. And do not waste my gift.”

The lax grip was enough for me to slip free and I whirled around, hands striking out to grab the unknown man and shake him until he told me what I wanted to know. But I grasped at empty air, the darkness swiftly overtaking my position. Then the world dropped out from under me and I was falling, scrabbling at empty air.

I felt cold, like an icy winter storm, swirling around me and then my blank eyes opened to a gray sky, hard rock and mud beneath me as I propelled into consciousness. Immediately, I rolled over on my side and ended up on hands and knees, my stomach emptying of its contents. I spat up huge clots of blood and anything that I had eaten, barely able to hear anything over the retching.

I moaned piteously when I felt the skin of my throat knitting itself with a burning, itching feeling. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of rapid movement and only dimly registered the sound of weapons ringing one on another. Weakness trembled in my limbs, my stomach turning flip-flops inside my body. I felt ill all over again and groaned, expecting to violently vomit once more.

There was a pulse of something-- power, magic, I could not say. I looked up from spitting and found that creature, Ixion, had again made an appearance. He was tearing into the men from before with a sadistic kind of glee, flinging body parts left and right and not seeming to mind the blood that painted his face a garish color. It rattled my composure once again and I hastily looked away, squeezing my eyes shut against the madness.

I took several deep, gulping breaths, ignoring the nauseating scent that permeated my nostrils before shakily trying to rise to my feet. I couldn't seem to get past my knees however, despite the fact I knew it was suicide to remain in such a vulnerable position with a fight raging around me. None of the bad guys had noticed me yet, but that didn't meant they weren't going to.

I slumped but a hand on my elbow prevented me from going far. Expecting it to be Ryou, I looked up and was shocked to find that it was Vincent, his eyes glued to my forehead. I gaped for a moment before rationality returned and struggled in his grasp.

“Let me go,” I demanded, not wanting any help from him. I would rather wallow in my vomit and the mud.

He seemed to actually notice me when his eyes snapped to mine, an accusation in their golden depths. The feeling that he knew who and what I was rose up again, so strongly that I couldn't ignore it. His fingers on my arm burned my skin, despite the fact that I was wearing long-sleeved robes.

“Why aren't you dead?” Vincent hissed vehemently, giving my arm a shake.

I responded with as much violence as I could muster, lashing at him with my other hand and breaking off contact. I jerked away, stumbled and dropped to my knees, scrambling through the mud to get away from him.

“That's what I'd like to know,” I spat, my eyes hurriedly glancing around.

I caught sight of Melath fending off a few men with graceful movements and Ryou wrestling hand to hand with another. Ivory was hacking at two more and corpses littered the ground, many of them with arrows sticking from throats or eyeball sockets – Melath's work most likely. The scene was gruesome, blood churned into the mud and turning it a garish color, and I gagged.

Beside me, Vincent made a movement that caught my attention and I slid away on instinct. His eyes were boring into my skull. “Why won't you just stay dead?” he hissed. “Why did you have to come here?”

I was startled by the tone in his voice, somewhere between vulnerability and despair. My mouth gaped like a fish, the intention to speak lost somewhere in my surprise. Before I could form the words however, his head jerked upwards and he darted to the side, deftly avoiding an attack. The two of them were quickly engaged, leaving me alone to wallow in the mud.

Or so I thought.

I felt a presence at my side and swiveled my head around, just in time to catch sight of someone grab my arm and haul me to my feet. Angered by the ill treatment, I reacted without thinking, striking out at him. The man – one I recognized as being the one to slap me earlier – easily dodged the feeble blow but wasn't ready for the punch I threw at his face. His head snapped backwards when my fist collided with his nose, and the sickening crunch of it breaking was music to my ears.

He stumbled backwards, releasing his hold on my arm and clutching his nose as blood poured from his nostrils. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline rushing through me, and attacked again, kicking him in the balls as hard as I could. He crumpled like a house of cards, letting out a whoosh of air and a keening cry of agony.

But it wasn't enough. Not for the blood lust inside of me. The hatred. Everything, the confusion and the anger, all that Vincent and the confusing dreams had caused, it burbled up inside of me until I could taste it on my tongue, like nausea and hate combined. I snarled and snapped my leg forward, kicking him across the face and watching his blood splatter on the ground, some of it even spraying onto my boots. I was fully prepared to kick him again when a hand gripped my shoulder.

I was getting really fucking tired of people touching me.

I whirled around, fist raised to strike but it was promptly caught by Melath's larger hand. “It's over,” he stated impassively, face unreadable as my fist smacked into his palm.

Behind me, the man uttered a whistling groan and collapsed face forward on the ground. It wasn't in me to feel the least bit sorry. Nope, a part of me wanted to kick him until he stopped breathing, smash his head into the ground. I blinked to clear away the sudden murderous thoughts and chanced a look around.

Sure enough, the battle had been won. Ixion had fucking disappeared to no surprise and my associates stood victorious over scattered bodies. I had woken just in time to catch the end of it, it seemed.

Melath's hand fell from my shoulder and released my hand and I sagged, the adrenaline rush flooding from my body in a wave. My knees were buckling and I slipped to the ground, doing my best not to look at the carnage. I still couldn't face it. On tv, it was something entirely different than the real life gore.

I didn't even realize it as the elf turned away from me, paying more attention to Vincent than to whatever I was torturing myself with.

“Miss Anne!” Ryou's cry of relief echoed around the clearing and he rushed towards me, dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands settled on my shoulders as he looked at me, eyes dark with concern. “But I thought--”

I knew exactly what he thought. What he saw. But I didn't have any explanation for it. The stare I gave him in return was sufficiently blank.

“He fucking killed you,” Ivory spat as she approached with a squelch of her boots over the mud. She seemed unconcerned with her many minor wounds, reaching with one hand to yank the arrow from her shoulder. “I watched him slit your throat and the light fade from your eyes,” she added accusingly, frowning at the arrow before tossing it aside and turning her glare onto me.

I looked up at her, feeling miserable all over. “I don't have any answers,” I said hoarsely, my throat still sore from the unexpected slicing. In my mind, the words of the dream still reverberated. It wasn't a game, this was a gift, what did it all mean?

“I just...” My words cut off and I sucked in a deep breath, shaking my head in hopes to clear the dizziness. I was through arguing or trying to make excuses. I just didn't know.

“That's not important right now,” Melath inserted suddenly, probably trying to cut off an argument before it began. He gestured towards the carnage surrounding us. “I think it's time we moved on, don't you?”

From the corner of my eyes, I caught sight of Vincent laboring towards us. “They were from Arnak,” he said lowly, tossing a piece of paper towards Melath which the elf caught nimbly. “Trailing after him.” He jerked a thumb towards Ryou.

The monk looked ashamed of himself, his cheeks coloring slightly as he stared at the ground. “I thought that after two years, they would have given up.”

Ivory snorted. “You must have done something pretty damn gruesome, monk, if even the Arnak are coming.”

Her words weren't helping in the slightest and I immediately bristled on Ryou's behalf, shooting her my most scathing glare. “Leave him alone,” I growled protectively. “I'm sure the reason for your bounty's ten times worse.”

She lifted a blood-spattered brow. “As if that were something to be shamed of,” she declared haughtily before spinning on her heels and flipping one wrist in our direction flippantly. I was more than glad she was heading away.

“Stupid bitch,” I muttered under my breath. I sighed and turned my attention back to Ryou who was determinately staring at the ground as if it held every answer in the universe. “Ryou?”

He didn't so much as stir, not even to look at me. It was very disconcerting.

“Ryou.” I repeated his name, a bit louder and more insistent this time.

He started and gave me a thin smile, lifting up a somewhat empty gaze. “I apologize, Miss Anne.” Then he seemed to notice my hand, which I just realized had begun to ache. His eyes widened. “What did you do?”

I winced, lifting it up and inspecting it. My knuckles were split and bruised, blood already seeping from the reddened flesh. “It's the first time I've ever punched someone,” I admitted with some embarrassment.

“I can see,” he said gently, one hand taking mine as he automatically dug around in his robes for some bandages. “You didn't do it properly. You should let me teach you; I can at least do that much.”

Despite the pain flaring through my hand, I managed a light smile. “I'm a sorry student,” I responded, my gaze flickering to Melath for all of a moment.

I remembered his failed attempts at teaching me to use my bow. He, however, didn't seem to realize that I was looking at him, too busy rooting through the pockets of one of our assailants.

“Nonsense,” Ryou said dismissively. “It is much easier to use one's body than to learn to master a weapon.” His tone could have been taken as light-hearted, but I was learning to read him rather well. The conversation was stiff somehow, and I could tell that he was worried about what had just happened. I really hated Ivory in that moment.

I let him sit in silence for a moment, gingerly wrapping my aching and bleeding knuckles before I spoke. “It's not your fault,” I said softly, half-wondering where this sudden kind side of me had come from. “You can't have known they were after us.”

His hands paused in their movements before he exhaled softly and went back to work. “Yes, I realize that. And though I don't understand it, I thank Babel that you aren't dead. I don't know what I would have done knowing I am partially to blame.”

I wasn't sure what to say about that. I blinked, regarding him curiously. A question was on the tip of my tongue and yet I stalled. How could I have been so blind, or was it merely arrogance? Was I hoping that he... cared for me? Was I imagining it to fulfill my own selfish desires?

Ryou was a friend, a dear friend and the only one I had in this godforsaken place. I had never expected it before then but now... now I wasn't so sure. By the gods, I didn't want to hurt him.

Closing my eyes in dismay, I steeled myself for an uncomfortable question. But I had to know. “Ryou--”

“If the princess is done with her pampering,” Vincent inserted with a sneer, tossing both of our packs down into the mud beside us, my bow included. “Then Melath has suggested we be on our way, storm or no.” He whirled on his heels and promptly stalked away after delivering his kind message.

I glared after him and returned my attention to Ryou, who was already rising to his feet. “Shall we go?” he asked, offering a hand down to me.

I repressed a sigh and reached up with my uninjured one. “Yeah, let's go.” There was always time for questions later, after I had sorted out my own thoughts on the matter. No need to press it further now.

******

a/n: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. A bit more is revealed here. I look forward to your comments!