Walking Delusions

a/n: Back again with an update! I do hope you like it! And big thanks to Miss.Curroption for her review! I'm grateful for the support. I've often wondered myself why it's not that popular, but that's pretty much the same way I started in my fanfiction so I'm not surprised. I'm sure people will notice my little fic eventually. Until then, I'll just keep posting.

Enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen: Matters of Denial

Waking eerily and lost in sight,
A lover's press and denied,
Sorrow reigns stronger then steeled for naught,
And still I skim behind the darkness.
Queries lacking in innocence,
And demands abhorred,
Of that bitter taste in sin I crave.

Yesa was far different than I imagined it would be. A swirling mass of people crowding every available space within the streets. Buildings built practically one on top of the other and the market stuffed to the gills of the most exotic items and spices. There were more people than I could count, of all different races and shades, some dark and some pale. I found myself drawing nearer to Ryou out of sheer discomfort from the masses.

The journey across the plains to reach this bustling town had been uneventful after the attack. I had learned from Ryou that not long after they attempted to kill me, Melath and Vincent had burst from the forest. In the distraction, Ivory worked herself free and untied Ryou, freeing them for battle as well.

He had explained, in stilted words, that the mercenaries had originally been after him, but were perfectly willing to turn Ivory in for money. If they had been able to get a hold of Melath and Vincent, both would have been sold as slaves, Melath especially, though probably for pleasure and not physical labor.

I was distinctly glad in that moment that every last one of them had been killed. There was no excuse for slavery in my mind, especially not those that were forced as sex slaves. Consensual and role-play was fine, but not forced.

That would be the kinky side of yourself, yes? Ixion's voice slithered into my mind and I cringed, hating the disgusting feeling.

That was a new little treat that I had only discovered that morning, Ixion's good morning shout jerking me awake. Why I could suddenly hear him without having to resort to that dream world was beyond my understanding though I suspected it had something to do with my recent death. And I was no more closer to understanding anything than I was before.

'You'll talk to me but not answer my questions,' I replied scathingly. Of course, I did so within my mind. I wasn't a fool. I didn't want anyone knowing that I was hearing my voices. They would think I was crazy... err, crazier.

Ixion laughed at me in that same mocking tone I had come to despise. If I did that, then I would lose what little entertainment I do have. I heard the sound of him licking his lips, a wet smacking noise that echoed nastily in my skull. Let me out.

Like hell.

I snorted negatively. 'Even if I did know how, I wouldn't,' I answered him with a dismissive huff. 'Unless you want to answer my questions...' I left the rest trailing off, hoping he would be gracious for once. I should have known better.

He grumbled and ceased his fidgeting in my skull, the strange pinprick feeling of talons on my brain disappeared. See if I help you again.

'I didn't ask for your help,' I reminded him in a tone that was far too haughty for my own good. I couldn't help it; he crawled under my skin like a splinter and rankled at me.' You should just stay... wherever the hell you are.'

I would gladly leave; just get back my jewel.

It wasn't much but it was something. That one little line caused me to pause mid-seething and cock my head to the side, completely lost to this internal conversation. 'Pardon?'

He sighed in exasperation. Don't play coy with me. What Constance stole from you belongs to me, remember? So as long as I'm with you, you cannot leave here. Don't you want to go home?

Oh, I did. I longed to return home more than anything. But I had begun to lose hope of that happening anytime soon. Whether I was dead or dreaming or locked in some strange twilight zone... I wanted to go home. His words caused something which was dangerously similar to hope to build up in my heart.

'Is it possible?' I asked, sucking in a breath through lungs that were suddenly clenching.

Anne, Anne, Anne, he chided mockingly. I could just imagine him shaking his head at me in a derisive manner, golden eyes gleaming maliciously. I cannot wait to see you fail.

I furrowed my brow, curious as to what he meant. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to learn. The outwards expression of my inner dialogue was noticed by the ever-watchful Ryou.

“Miss Anne?”

I blinked out of my thoughts, realizing that I had drawn to a complete halt in the middle of the streets. I looked around, having no clue where we were, and it took me that long to realize that the others had vanished as well, to who knew where. One minute I was walking beside them and the next, the other three had melted into the press of people. Had I really been out of it that long?

“Where is everyone?” I asked, half-wondering why I even bothered. I would prefer not to speak to Ivory, Melath was confusing, and I didn't feel up to fending off Vincent's vicious vindictiveness.

Ryou shifted his pack on his back, half-turning to glance around us and scanning his eyes over the shops nearby. “They went their separate ways,” he answered. “We're supposed to meet at the Inn later tonight.”

I could pretty much guess what the other's were doing. Ivory was finding a local bar; she seemed the type. Vincent and Melath were seeking out privacy, a rarity on this type of journey. I wasn't sure what Ryou intended though. It was fine. I would prefer spending time with him than the others.

I shrugged. “Okay.” My eyes flitted around, trying to find something that would interest me. I was still overwhelmed by the sheer size and diversity of Yesa, however, not to mention the oppressive heat. “So what should we do?” No way in hell I was going to wander around my own, especially not in place that was as eclectically crowded as Donnil had been. I didn't have a death wish. At least, not anymore.

The look of surprise on Ryou's face was unexpected, but the smile that took over his lips wasn't. It looked, dare I say it, rather pleased. “I need to stop by the herbalist first. I'm running low on my medicine.”

That sounded fair to me. It was then that someone bumped into me from behind, most likely unintentional. I started forward, nearly crashing into Ryou who hurried to steady me. I whipped my head around, glaring at the offender, but there was no one around. I belatedly realized that I was in no position to be offended considering I couldn't back up anything. Speaking of which...

“You said you could teach me some stuff, right?” I posed as his hands lowered from my shoulder and I tugged a bit on my cloak, pulling it away from my sweaty skin. “We could get started.” I had the sudden urge to hack off my hair as my boots kicked up dust beneath my feet, adding it to the mud already caking my clothes. “And maybe a bath or something eventually.”

I barely caught the dark flush that attacked Ryou's cheeks as he hastily turned his head away. “There are baths at the Inn that you can indulge in,” he explained, moving into the press of the crowd as I followed him. “But yes, I will try and explain a few useful moves to you.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, fingers rubbing over the knuckles of my hand.

Punching that man had hurt more than I expected, making my entire arm ache. They were still bruised and raw. Even though I was glad to have defended myself, I'd rather do it without unnecessary injury.

Despite Ixion's words, I still feared that I would be stuck in Tears forever. I didn't even know if I was capable of truly dying. Would that man bring me back to life time and time again? Was I doomed to walk this world in an unending existence? That prospect was terrifying. I hated this place, hated the people, hated the confusing turn my life had taken. I wished something would explain itself.

Yet, all I received were more and more questions.

Conversation between Ryou and I was nonexistent as we pushed through the mid-afternoon madness. Truthfully, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep up with him, and the heat made breathing difficult. It was easier to keep my silence as I gaped at the oddities surrounding me.

We passed a few shops that I recognized. The butcher's with the lovely smell of blood and meat wafting out, causing my stomach to churn unpleasantly. Any hunger I might have had vanished in an instant, especially when my ears picked up the distinct crunch of blade through bone. I shuddered.

Iron striking iron next reached my ears, that of a blacksmith. The warmth of heated fires and black smoke billowed from every crack in the stone building. A few groups of men, dressed in battle leathers and talking quietly, hovered impatiently outside the shop. I was infinitely glad that we had no reason to go inside.

I was very grateful when we finally stumbled on the herbalist, the small building tucked between several others. It was rather squat with a thatched roof, a thin curl of pale smoke drifting lazily from a round chimney at the top. I was intrigued by the scents wafting out of the open doorway, however, a nice mix of fresh herb and incense.

Ryou was the first to step inside and I followed at a leisurely pace. He made a beeline for the woman at the back, the owner I assumed, while I wandered around touching things I probably shouldn't have. Dried plants hung from the eaves and there were potted ones on multiple shelves. There were powders, crumbles, leaves, roots, and stems in varying containers.

I paused a few interesting tidbits, touching and sniffing. One powder in particular caught my eye, a lovely mix of grey and black and something speckled. It looked like something that would be expelled from a volcano. I pinched it between my fingers and brought it up to my nose.

The resulting sneeze should have been expected. The next two were nearly painful as I desperately wiped my hand off on my robes, trying to regain a breath. My eyes began to wander yet I couldn't, for the life of me, remember what that tentative sniff had smelled like.

It was then that Ryou appeared. “Miss Anne?”

I sneezed again and gestured towards the stuff. His eyes followed my movement. “Pipera?” he explained, with a lifted brow and a bit of a smile. “You cook with it. It's a seasoning but I wouldn't recommend sniffing it.”

“So I learned,” I wheezed. My nose twitched again and I wiped at my eyes. “Did you get what you need?”

He nodded. “Yes. The owner tells me there's a practice field not too far from here. We could go there if you like.”

My eyes were still watering; I was ready to leave. “Lead the way.” I rubbed my nose and glared at the offending spice once more before following him out of the shop.

It seemed impossible but the crowds grew thicker and more oppressive. Most were far taller than me. Scarred men, intimidating women. Creatures that were sentient but terrifying. I grabbed onto Ryou's sleeve and refused to let go, keeping my eyes down so that I didn't lock gazes with anyone.

Yes, I'm a damn coward. Get over it.

Ryou gave me a look but didn't comment. I watched his fingers flex on his staff as we continued. We eventually ducked between two buildings, squeezing through a thin alley that was fortunately empty of debris and people. It brought us into an open field, half grass, half empty dirt.

I dropped my hold, blinking somewhat at the abrupt change. It was even quieter here, as if that small bit of separation was enough to lock out the noise.

Ryou glanced around as if pleased and then dropped his staff to the ground as well as his pack and a few other odds and ends. He gestured to the left, pointing out a larger building a few buildings down.

“That's the inn,” he directed. “Just in case you need to know.” He lowered himself to the ground and rolled up his sleeves. “I hope you don't mind, but I'd prefer to mix this before the herbs lose their potency.”

I shook my head. “Can I watch?”

He looked startled at the request but nodded. “It is not a secret.”

I sat down on the grass, momentarily frowning at the thought of what kind of bug could be crawling up my robes before watching Ryou with a bit of fascination.

He dug into his pack and pulled out a small bowl which looked rather heavy and a thick, glass-like object. It was a pestle, like for grinding and crushing stuff. The bowl must have been a mortar. He set the two in front of him and then pulled out a pouch as well as his waterskin.

He carefully poured some of the water into the mortar and then pulled out a smaller pouch, even smaller than my pouch. Pulling open the strings, he pinched out what looked like sand and dropped it into the water. He did all of this with intent concentration, lips moving without audible sound as if going over the necessary steps in his mind.

“Is this another reason we came to Yesa?” I asked as he pulled out the herbs he had recently purchased, laying them out in a long line in front of the bowl.

He looked up from his counting and measuring by hand. “Yes. I was running low.”

His eyes returned to his work. He selected something long and stringy, looking a lot like grass, and put a few blades into the bowl. He crushed those for a few minutes until they were pulpy and added the petals of a bright purple plant.

“Is it toxic?” I couldn't help but be curious. He looked so serious, which he often did, but I had never seen him this focused.

“I wouldn't recommend eating it,” he replied with a light chuckle, dropping a few more herb bits and pieces. He used roots and stems and petals and even pollen of more than eight different plants before grinding it all up in the mortar. The sound of the pestle striking the bottom of the bowl was almost relaxing.

While he was mixing, I reached forward and grabbed one of the plants he had been using, pinching the leaves between my fingers. I sniffed the crushed vegetation, surprised to find that it smelled a lot like a sassafras tree.

“It's peaceful,” Ryou commented out of nowhere. I started and looked at him, twirling the leaf in my fingers. “I mean, right now anyways. No one's trying to kill us and there is no arguing.”

He had a point. I sniffed the leaf again. It smelled like home and was sort of comforting. I hoped he didn't need it so I could keep it.

“Yeah,” I agreed, watching him add a few pinches of some powder to the mixture which promptly sucked up half the moisture and making it more of a paste than a liquid. “S'kinda nice.”

Time passed, the sun slowly fading into the sky and arching towards late afternoon. Some of the heat finally vanished so that I was no longer soaking up my robes. For that I was grateful. By then, Ryou had finished his strange mixture, touching up a few spots on his arms and neck with the substance. He then carefully cleaned up his mess, packed up the herbs and was done.

Now was as good as time as any to learn some moves, I supposed.

He started simply by teaching me how to throw a proper punch. He explained that a woman's legs were stronger than their arms and that I would be better off kicking, aiming for ankles or knees. A man automatically protected his groin so it was often better to go for something else. All valuable stuff.

Then he moved into more complicated maneuvers. How to get out of a hold if someone grabbed me from behind. What to do when faced with a weapon. A few powerful kicks and punches. He made me do stretches to test my flexibility. You wouldn't guess it from his kindness but he was a hard taskmaster, refusing to listen to me whine about muscles aching and such.

It was actually kind of fun.

After that, it was time for practical maneuvers. This consisted of him attacking me and me trying to defend myself. More often than not, I failed miserably. It seemed that even basic hand to hand was too difficult.

Growing a bit aggravated with my failures, I threw a wayward punch at him, then danced backwards to avoid his attack. That was my mistake. With a startled yelp, I tripped on the edge of my robe and pitched forward, destined for a collision with the ground. I felt his arms wrap around me at the last moment and together, we both struck, though he absorbed most of the blow. I laughed at my own ineptitude even as we sprawled across the ground, his weight on top of me. And then it hit.

It was one of those moments, you know where the wind whistled and the sun kissed you and your eyes met. I could feel the warmth of him against me and he blushed. He licked his lips and it was then that I knew, I would have to do something to hurt him.

“Miss Anne,” he began, slow and stuttering. “Could I... could I kiss you?”

I knew it was coming.

I swallowed thickly. He was the sweetest guy I knew but he did nothing for me. “Ryou...” I trailed off, my eyes shifting to the side. Oh, Anne, you are a bitch. “I'm not the kind person you think I am.”

He looked at me with those eyes, loyal earthy tones of adoration and reluctant understanding. “I think, Miss Anne, that you are kinder than you give yourself credit.”

There was a lump in my throat. “I wish that were true.”

Ryou sighed and disentangled from me, rising to his feet. He stuck out a hand to pull me up as well. “You don't need to protect me. I can handle rejection,” he said. “I would have never forgiven myself if I hadn't tried anyways.” The smile he gave me was obviously fake and plastered on. It made me feel lower than shit.

I didn't let go of his hand, wanting to soothe what pain I had caused somehow. I knew it only made things worse but I wanted him to know that he was important to me.

“You do know that I wouldn't be here without you, right?” I asked, not knowing where this sappy crap was emerging from but glad for it. “You are my best friend here. And I'd hate to ruin that. I'm not... I'm not made for good guys like you.”

He let go of his hold on my hand and I let him go. “Good guys like me?” he repeated, the disappointment in his gaze heart-breaking. “Once upon a time, I might have been that.”

I looked at him in confusion, a question on the tip of my tongue. Until my stomach chose that moment to give a very loud, very awkward grumble, cutting into the tension. I flushed, one hand patting my hungry belly. It had been a while since we'd last eaten and we'd been walking all day.

He raised a brow in my direction, somehow managing to find some humor. “Hungry?”

The look I gave him must have been pathetic. “Incredibly so,” I sighed.

A small laugh escaped from him which I was infinitely pleased to hear. “Dinner then? We passed a place a little while back.”

I winced. “Is there anything normal? Like meat and potatoes. I don't think I want to try anything weird... uh... unusual.”

“I'm sure we could find something,” he responded, raking a brief hand through sweaty hair. “We should go now.”

He turned from me and started to gather his stuff. There was a polite distance between us now I noticed. I supposed it was a defense. I didn't blame him. Yet, I chewed on my lip in indecision. I wished that there was something I could do to chase away the pain.

He had only ever been kind to me.

“Ryou?”

He turned and that was when I attacked. Before he could get a chance to escape, I rose up on my tiptoes, grabbed his face with my hands and pressed my lips to his. He froze in surprise, mouth slack against mine, before finally accepting the embrace I was offering him. His lips moved tentatively against mine, almost wonderingly.

It was brief and nothing compared to the heat I experienced with Melath, but it was the best I could offer him. Kissing Ryou was sweet, comforting, like sharing a hug with someone important to me. I pulled back and put space between us, the faintly stunned look on his face well worth the impulsive decision.

“Why?” he asked, fingers rising to touch his lips.

I smiled. “I'm an absolute bitch but you deserve it. If I could make you happy, I would.”

It was the honest truth. If I was a lot less selfish and lot kinder, I would throw away everything to be with him. I had a feeling he would treat me better than anything. But I simply couldn't do it.

Some of the sadness in his eyes faded, his smile becoming a bit less like enduring pain. “Then dinner it is. With meat and potatoes.”

And just like that, things were much easier again. I breathed a breath of relief and together, we sought out dinner.

*****

Pain. Indescribable pain lanced through me. I found myself screaming but my throat had long gone hoarse and all that came out was a thin wail of agony. My body arched before I collapsed against the surface behind me.

The counter was usually cold, ice cold thanks to to the air and it being made of metal. But as much as I had been sweating, as long as I had been lying here, the gurney had turned warm. Nearly burning. Then again, Constance could have been doing something to make it so hot.

I heard him chuckle. I caught a whiff of his onion breath.

“You do feel pain,” he remarked in a distinctly awed and yet, scientific voice. “It would have been interesting otherwise but no matter.”

There was a pause. The pain disappeared. He sat back, watching me. I was afraid to take the moment's reprieve and learn to breathe again. I didn't want to know what he had planned next.

I peeled my eyes open and winced, almost blinded by the sheer brightness of the lights above me. The whole room smelled sterile and bitter, and the coppery tang of blood stained my tongue. I had bitten my lip, chewed on my cheek, anything to distract myself from those cold, unfeeling hands.

“I think it's time to extract the jewel, your holiness.”

Tucker. I recognized that voice. I groaned as I turned my head, catching a glimpse of that damned monk from the corner of my eye. He wasn't even looking at me, instead frowning as he spoke with Constance.

The archbishop sat back in his stool, one hand idly tracing lines with the scalpel on my thigh. Little burning marks, as if I were a canvas and the knife a paintbrush with which he were doodling. After everything else, this pain was nothing. Like several paper cuts at once. Annoying, stinging, burning, but endurable.

“You're probably right,” Constance replied with a faint hum. “Though I was having so much fun. Truly, a fascinating creature. The bidder likely grows impatient.”

The scalpel hit the table with a clatter, splattering blood against the metal surface. I clamped down on nausea as I felt it trickle down my leg. I doubted I had anything left to heave, my throat feeling like sandpaper and my gut sore from clenching.

The two of them puttered around, mumbling things to each other that I couldn't distinguish in my delirious fog of pain. I heard drawers open, heard the clink of metal utensils together. The smell of chemicals wafted to my nose, burning and making me even more dizzy than I already was. Something akin to fear burbled up inside of me, quickly turning to absolute terror.

I didn't want to but I wondered what they had planned, what else they could possibly do to me. It was disconcerting, laying here in my underwear, ankles and wrists pinned down by iron shackles. I could barely turn my head and breathing was difficult. The light made sight painful.

And here I thought I was saving the world. How arrogant of me.

Then the two of them were hovering over me, their eyes gleaming evilly. I gulped at the sight of the shining instruments in their hands. Constance looked at me with a smile that could only be described as bone-chilling.

“How are we doing, my dear?” he asked with fake politeness and cheer. “Not too bad, I hope.” He must have noticed the fearful widening of my eyes as I stared at some kind of sharpened item in his hand. “Oh? This?” A dark chuckle. “Don't worry. It won't hurt for long, I should think.”

A terrified gurgle began in my throat. I tugged my wrists against my bindings, felt blood trickle down my arms as I cut myself on the metal. The gurney rattled beneath my motion and I wished to holy hell that I could speak. I couldn't even work up the spit to display my fury, could only watch with fearing eyes.

His eyes flickered to Tucker. “Hold her down.”

“Yes, your holiness.”

Tucker moved above my head and then I felt his hands on my shoulders, pressing the blades of them into the hard surface beneath me. He must have been using his full weight because it was just as painful as everything else and I was certain I would have bruises later. More of those pathetic, rabbit-like cries echoed in my throat.

Oh god. Somebody. I didn't want this to happen. If this weren't real, then it was a nightmare not a dream. I couldn't decide if I would rather be with the Ectow's or not. All I felt was this paralyzing fright.

Constance loomed over me, calloused fingers gripped his instruments of torture. “Now... be still, Anne.”

I watched with widened eyes as the sharp end moved towards my chest and pressed into my skin without preamble. Blood welled up but the pain hadn't yet begun, as if I had been numbed. I felt pressure and the cold slide of the edge.

Another slash and then another until there were five criss-crossing each other. He set the bloodied utensil to the ground. It became hard to breathe. I pulled in a shuddery breath and my entire body was trembling, whether from fear or holding back the pain I didn't really know.

Constance returned with something else, looking like a terrible mockery of salad tongs. Except these had jagged edges and looked capable of cutting off a finger. A look of malicious glee flitted across his face as he angled it towards my sternum and the injury he had caused.

And then I felt it. I screamed soundlessly as he dug the thing into the wound, rooting around as if looking for buried treasure. I felt my insides tear, blood gushing up to squirt on his face. He grimaced, wiped it away with the back of his hand, but kept going. Tucker's hands clenched on my shoulders but he didn't let go, even though my body kept trying to twist away from the cause of my agony.

Black spots dotted my vision and I tried to sail into unconsciousness but was slapped across the face. It jarred me out of the darkness and I felt something warm dribble onto my cheek. Peeling open eyes I hadn't realized were closed, I turned my head and stared at something gem-like and covered in blood.

“This,” Constance crowed, holding the item up to the light with a triumphant look on his face. “This is what we have been seeking, Tucker. Isn't it beautiful?”

Nausea surged in my belly and I twisted, trying to vomit. But I couldn't anywhere and ended up vomiting in my mouth, forced to swallow it back down. My body was growing so cold, like ice had invaded my organs and was shutting me down from the inside.

But the archbishop wasn't yet finished.

“Help me!” I sobbed in my mind, pain washing over me in waves as his hands found new surgical tools, new ways to torture. “Someone! Anyone!”

I thought of the others. Ryou... Ivory... Melath... Even Vincent. I was desperate, so very desperate. There was nothing in me but agony, sheer burning agony that ripped through my body. I could feel my heart pumping blood onto the gurney and Constance's cruel laughter echoed around me.

I moaned, tears in my eyes. Someone, please... save me.

I jerked awake with a sharp gasp, flailing about in the covers and twisting myself in the sheets. I nearly crashed to the ground and only by grabbing the bed did I maintain my perch. My heart was pounding in my chest and one hand groped at my belly, feeling the scar of the wound and yet, swearing that the wet warmth of blood still lingered.

A terrified groan slipped from my lips before I could stop it as I hunched over on the bed, fighting back waves of nausea and fear. The darkness of the room was all too enclosing and it only added to my terror. That... that was why I had been near death when the others found me. Was that gem Ixion's power?

You caught on quicker than I expected.

Ixion's voice poured into my mind as I clenched my eyes shut, trying to block out the images that were memories and not just some terrible dream. Constance had wanted my power but had gotten Ixion's jewel instead.

Feeling a sudden urge to be free of the enclosing darkness of the room, I detangled myself from the covers and threw my legs over the side of the bed. I paused with bated breath, listening to the sounds of the others as they slept. Ivory, Ryou, and I were sharing a room while Melath and Vincent had another. I was lucky I had fallen asleep at all with the way Ivory's nose was carrying on. Like a train and monster mixed in one.

I dressed hurried and silent, grabbed my bow and escaped from the room. I didn't feel like I could breathe again until I had stepped out of the Inn and into the early morning crisp air. It was just before sunrise, when the sky was that beautiful light blue and you could still see the stars. It took away some of the stifling fear.

I supposed now was as good as time as any to practice my archery. I wasn't expecting to improve but the mindless monotony of nocking, firing, retrieving and beginning the process over again might help to drive away lingering memories of the nightmare. I headed for the open field behind the buildings that Ryou and I had been in earlier. Luckily, this early, no one else was around. My nerves gradually settled.

I didn't stop thinking however. Even as I set up a target, got into position and started to aim, my mind didn't stop moving. I thought of everything. It was easy in the solitude and silence.

I remembered Maya's words. I pondered Tai's identity and what he had to do with Ixion's jewel. I wondered what terrible thing Ixion had done to get sealed into the jewel and why Vincent had reacted to his name and face with such surprise. The two shared the same color of eye. I wondered if that had any significance.

I wanted to go home. That thought crossed my mind more than once. Even if there was nothing waiting for me, at least I wouldn't have to spend every waking moment fearing for my life. But I didn't know how. It wasn't as if I could click my heels together and wish I were there. This was far too fucking bloody to be a fairy tale.

I paused mid-motion, head cocking to the side.

Fairy tale. A fantasy. A fiction. Like an anime or a novel or a manga or a story.

Like a world that's been created by someone with an active imagination, carefully crafted to tell a tale. Like a world that's been fashioned from the sweat and tears of a writer, painstakingly put together, each detail altered until perfection. Like a little girl's dream that morphed into another world as she aged.

I felt something drop into my belly then.

Those feelings of familiarity, those feelings of deja vu... it all made fucking sense. There was enough that was the same, that was similar, that I had to be right. Sure, the people were a surprise but the places, the locations, the races, everything. It was mine, all mine.

The Ectow's. The elves of the wood that weren't really elves. The bounty hunters. The Anuran and the Rajab tribe. The shapeshifters. Tears. Ruscit.

Vincent.

Could it be that this world was actually based on my creation, based on the world I had so carefully constructed in long hours of boredom and dreams? It made so much sense and yet, left me just as confused. Was I really dreaming then? Was I delusional? Was I alive or dead?

It was impossible and yet, here I was. Standing in Yesa which I remember intentionally designing as a trader's town. Everyone was to be accepted here and the ruling lord had strict rules about beginning conflict. It was the last outpost before the Wastelands where bandits roamed and aboriginal tribes defended their territory without mercy.

Reeling from my self-discovery, I fixed my slack hold on my bow and aimed once more, idly firing at the target. This game that the god had spoken of, had it something to do with my dream? What did it all mean? Why was I here? I wished I knew.

The arrow missed by a long shot.

“You really haven't improved.”

The abrupt voice startled me and I dropped the arrow I was about to nock as I jumped. I whirled to find Melath behind me, casually leaning up against the wall of a building. In the early morning light, he looked positively delicious. I wondered how long he had been watching and why I hadn't noticed anyone was there.

I swallowed thickly and turned back towards my makeshift target, crouching to pick up the dropped arrow. “I don't think I will,” I responded, shaking dew from the fletching. I took a deep breath and notched the arrow.

He didn't respond and I took the opportunity to aim and fire. As before, the arrow barely nicked the side of the target before careening wildly into the tall grasses. It joined several others already hidden by the waving vegetation. I was not looking forward to having to search for them later despite knowing it was a necessity. My arrows were limited and I didn't have the funds to replace them. The bag of jewels and coin that had been given to me were long ago lost thanks to Constance's manipulation.

I was overly aware of Melath's presence, crystalline still watching me. It made me on edge. I couldn't help but wonder what he wanted.

“Are you even aiming?”

It sounded like something Vincent would say.

I gritted my teeth, hissing in annoyance. “Yes. Not everyone can be as perfect as you.”

There was a low chuckle before I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Melath wanted me to know he was coming, otherwise I wouldn't even have been able to hear him. My senses prickled, a sense of anticipation building. Yet, Vincent's warning reverberated in my mind.

“I never claimed to be perfect,” he responded from just behind me, probably only an arm length and a half away.

I turned to look at him. “What do you want from me?” I asked.

The question is, what do you want from him, Ixion countered in the back of my mind.

I ignored him and focused my intent stare on Melath. Those beautiful blue eyes watched me and I, in turn, watched his tongue as it moistened his lips. I recalled how that tongue had felt on my skin, over my body, flicking and teasing. Something inside of me tightened with want as the memories attacked my mind, making a flush spread across the bridge of my nose and the tops of my cheeks.

“I should think it obvious,” he replied, stepping closer, one hand reaching out and laying on the bow. He pushed it down, my slack grasp making it much easier. My heart picked up a faster rhythm.

I swallowed thickly, trying not to be caught up in his sensual allure. “I've been informed that I face death if I dare touch you again.”

His brow twitched, a faint frown decorating his lips. “Vincent?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

I nodded, pretending nonchalance though a part of me wanted nothing more than to card my fingers through his hair and devour his lips. He was so damn beautiful. It really wasn't fair.

“What is the deal with you two?”

“Deal?” he repeated in confusion. I forgot that they tended to misunderstand slang. I was about to explain myself when he gently tugged the bow from my hand.

“I'm not sure what you mean, but our relationship is complicated,” he began, idly testing the flexibility of the bowstring before lifting those eyes back to mine. “For some reason, I'm inexplicably attracted to you. If I could understand it, things would be much simpler.”

I watched him, realizing that he was actually fidgeting, a strange behavior for the assured elfin man. “He says you belong to him,” I commented, wanting to understand. “But Ryou tells me that it's actually the opposite.”

“Ryou spills his secrets much too easily,” Melath countered with a sigh. A wind stirred, blowing some hair into his face. “Yes, Vincent belongs to me. But I do not consider him my... slave.”

He had no choice in fucking you.

She betrayed the true one, the chosen one, why should she be forgiven?

Why those words came to me in that moment, I didn't know. But it was enough to cause me to take a step away from Melath. I asked myself again why someone like him would be interested in me, especially when it was obvious there was something between he and Vincent. Something more than just a casual encounter.

I wanted Melath again but there was a lingering doubt on the edge of my mind, a pressing uncertainty. It niggled and nagged, coloring my decision.

“Are you saying that you want me again?” I demanded, confusion swirling inside of me.

His fingers traced the smooth curve of my bow. “Yes.”

My mouth dropped in shock and I reeled. Even after I had witnessed his behavior with Vincent, even after he had heard of my death and subsequent rebirth, nothing had changed. He still wanted me. Me. It made no sense.

I sucked in a breath, intent on voicing those very questions but I never received a chance. Melath's gaze flicked away from me to something behind me even as he shoved my bow into my hands. I took the weapon with some confusion, turning to find that the others were approaching. A quick glance to the sky informed me that the sun was quickly rising, casting orange and red beams everywhere.

Ryou was carrying my stuff for me and Ivory was grumbling under her breath, idly tightening the strap for her axe sheath. I was receiving the Glare of Death from Vincent, probably because I was standing too close to Melath. Then again, Melath was receiving an angered stare as well.

“You wanted to leave at dawn, didn't you?” Ivory posed, usual scowl on her face as she joined the two of us, the others trailing a few steps behind.

Melath jerked his head, the motion resembling a nod as he put some distance between us. “That was the initial plan. We've yet to decide a destination, however.”

“We should continue north,” Vincent suggested in a practically dead tone.

I was half-relieved that his glares weren't solely for me. I unconsciously edged closer to Ryou, always comforted by his presence. I tried not to notice the small smile on his lips at my proximity. I felt like such a bitch for taking advantage of him but I couldn't stop either. He was the only friend I had.

“I agree,” Ivory commented, thumbing her chin with a calloused thumb. “Word in the taverns is that there's a guy looking to hire mercenaries for some big campaign. Pay's pretty good, too.” She paused, her eyes flickering between us in a strange manner before continuing. “Otherwise, there's nothing in Yesa but fetch jobs.”

Melath grimaced faintly. “A war?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe. But it's not like we take sides.”

Ryou frowned thoughtfully, his staff thumping an idle rhythm on the ground. “Who is this man? And how much is he paying?”

“Pure gold,” Ivory answered. “None of that processed cheap stuff. As for who he is, I only caught a name... Dainichi.”

“Dainichi?” Ryou repeated, quizzically. “A strange name. It doesn't sound like any culture I'm familiar with.”

To me, it sounded Japanese. I thought I might have recognized it but wasn't about to speak up. They didn't know the same history and religious folklore as I did. It would be pointless. I kept my silence for personal reasons as well. My opinion didn't matter.

Melath folded his arms over his chest, looking towards the sky to gauge the time. “We'll have to cross the Orinoco Plains, correct? I'm assuming this Dainichi is requesting the gathering in Nyorai?”

At her nod, Melath seemed convinced. I could already tell his decision had been made. Not that it stopped Vincent from commenting.

I heard a derisive snort. “And is the princess okay with this direction?”

I internally bristled at the comment, but held my tongue. It was beneath me to argue with the bastard. “It's fine,” I responded through gritted teeth.

“It'll take us through Hruby territory,” Ryou put in, trying to eliminate the bead of tension that had arisen so swiftly.

Melath waved a hand of dismissal. “Between the four of us, we have nothing to worry about,” he replied. I noticed that he distinctly left me out of the count. If I didn't know it was true, it might have actually rankled me.

As they started discussing routes and plans of avoidance, I quickly jogged across the field to retrieve my arrows. I didn't know if they would do me any good but it was best not to leave them behind. I didn't like the sound of this Hruby tribe nor did I look forward to being a mercenary but I had no clue where to head next.

Head to Yesa, Maya had said. There Tai would be revealed. But here I was, and there none of the answers were. I was left simply going with the flow, dragged along as useless baggage with these mercenaries. I didn't know why they bothered me with me anymore.

But it seemed there was only one way to find out.

*****

a/n: Let's see here... six more chapters to go. And I'm working on a few side pieces to go with the story as well. Thanks for reading! I look forward to your comments!