Categories > Anime/Manga > Escaflowne > White Nymph
Who the Hell are You?
0 reviewsRephina, aka Refina, Rephiinu, or Rafina, pilots a white Alseides. Only the Ispano make white Guymelefs...but first, she has to deal with her cousin Ryuon and some guy named Dilandau.
0Unrated
Chapter Two: Who The Hell Are You?
"Dilandau Albatou?" Kagero's left eye was so puffy his glasses wouldn't sit straight on his face. "He's all everyone talked about today. And he's nuts."
"He cut off that general's head to keep him from surrendering so the battle would continue," added Ryuon grimly. "Or at least that's what I heard."
"He first piloted a 'melef when he was twelve, and upgraded to a guymelef six months later after trashing the old one in an Energist mine." Kagero's eyes kept flicking to the clock on the wall, checking the free time he had left. Apparently he didn't want his commanding officer to turn his eyes into a matching set.
"Why would they upgrade him if he trashed the one he had?" asked Rephina, refilling Kagero's piscus juice.
Ryuon snorted. "Apparently a dragon came to the graveyard to die and got helped along a bit. He ripped out its Energist with his bare hands. While it was still breathing."
"I wonder if he kept it?" wondered Kagero with the morbid curiosity unique to sheltered adolescents.
"You're disgusting," Rephina told him flatly, but she hung onto every word. It was fascinating. Why had no one heard of this man until now? Where had he come from, that he could commit such reckless acts and not only survive, but be promoted for them? Personally, she thought Dilandau had indeed kept the Energist. She could see him in her mind's eye, a mere slip of a silver-haired boy, standing disheveled and discolored yet triumphant amid the carcass of the dragon, one pale hand gripping the hard-won jewel as if to say, "I won this myself, so no one may deprive me of it. I rely on no skills but my own. What I need, I take-no questions asked." All her life, she had wanted that to be her own creed. Yet things kept piling up...how did he manage to keep his outlook so simple? Didn't he have a family?
"Is he native?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "You'd think a twelve-year-old killing a dragon would merit a mention somewhere."
"That's the creepy thing," said Kagero, dropping his voice. "Nobody knows."
"And anyway," interjected Ryuon, "why do you care? Where'd you hear the name, anyway?"
Touchy that he hadn't remembered it yesterday? Ryuon, that was almost cute. "Oh, I met him today," she said casually, steepling her fingers lightly and resting her chin atop them. "How was training?"
"Hold on." Kagero adjusted his glasses, blinked at her. "You're saying you-met Dilandau Albatou? Where?"
"In HQ. You forgot your lunch, Ryuon," she told him ruefully. He sighed.
"I know. The cooks wouldn't feed me in the mess hall since I usually pack. When you never showed up I thought you'd figured I made one. Where were you?"
"Sidetracked."
"With Dilandau?" asked Kagero.
"You could say that." She gave them her best enigmatic smile, thoroughly enjoying watching them writhe in anticipation. Finally, someone else's turn to be on tenterhooks. "Trying to find you, I ran into him and a few of his friends."
"What was he like?" For all of Ryuon's apparent disdain for the man, he certainly was inquisitive enough. Perhaps it was the "communications specialist" in him... "Did you talk?"
"Not really." Awkwardly she fought the blush squirming to rise in her cheeks. "I said excuse me, and he said who the hell are you, and I explained, and General Adelphos confiscated your lunch as he disapproves of special treatment, and Strategos kindly sent me on my way." She sipped her juice, full lips puckering from the sour flavor. "Nothing too exciting." She didn't mention, though she'd enjoyed it, seeing Adelphos sneak a bite of Ryuon's lunch. Why tarnish the man's image? He'd seemed to like the food, so in return she'd keep his sheep in the dark.
Besides, more important things had happened in that hallway. Brilliant, blazing eyes had met her own, a beautifully self-assured voice had addressed her directly. True, the words it had used were harsh and abrupt, but the fearlessness even such words conveyed was staggering. Both Adelphos and the Sorcerer had tried to conceal their suspicions-but Dilandau Albatou was too good for any mask.
They were both gaping at her now, at the mention of General Adelphos this time. Rephina wondered if either knew what "Strategos" meant-probably not, or else Kagero at least would've had a heart attack. She herself wondered how she'd managed to make it through the encounter. Had she sounded too flustered? Too helpless? Too suspicious? Had her hair looked all right when Dilandau saw her?
And what kind of an inane question was that?
"Stop staring at me!" she ordered, embarrassed. "It was nothing, all right? Dil...Lord Albatou just makes quite an impression, that's all. I figured since he's sort of the guest of honor you might..."
"Well, I didn't see him," said Ryuon darkly. "I guess he's just too good for all of us."
This confused Rephina. "But...he was heading for the barracks!" Remembering the purpose of the meeting, she smiled conspiratorially at her cousin and his friend. "He's been given permission to form an elite group of guymelef pilots. So be on your best behavior...although I guess you don't care, Ryuon."
She'd lost Kagero to battle fantasies on the word "guymelef," his eyes shining with imagined glory behind both glasses and bruise. Ryuon, on the other hand, was perfectly lucid...if a bit incredulous. "Why wouldn't I care? This...if you're right, this could be my big break!" Suddenly restless, he stood, pacing the length of the table while running his fingers through his teased blond hair. "Every small-forces group has at least one infiltrator...if I play my cards right, it could be me...Reph, how could you think I wouldn't care?" The question was tinged with an almost whiny hurt, odd in a boy with such a low voice. "This could be it for me!"
"But you don't like him." She said it emotionlessly, trying to understand. She hadn't pegged Ryuon as the type who'd follow someone he hated for the sake of his own petty glory and felt a bit disappointed in her cousin. Don't tie yourself to the wrong place, Ryuon. You'll never be freed... Though it would be nice if Ryuon made the team and invited his commander for dinner.
"I don't like some of his methods," he corrected, still pacing. "But that doesn't negate the fact that he's a brilliant soldier. We should not have won that Ezgardian skirmish-but we did. Why? He cared more about defending Zaibach than what might be said afterwards. And the dragon...that was unnecessary, but he was young. Jeture, the fact that he killed the thing is credentials enough for me to follow him anywhere!"
"You lost me."
Ryuon sighed. "To slay a dragon, Rephina, is to stare down death and win. Not just physically-think about it: an agitated heart draws dragons, so to kill one means you're destroying the consequences of your own anger and fear. You're taking responsibility for your weaknesses so no one suffers because of them. How can you not follow a commander like that?"
She hadn't put it in that light, but while Kagero heckled his metaphor-spouting friend Rephina mulled the words over in her mind, tasting them carefully. Did she agree with him? That Dilandau was worth following went without saying; he transcended the petty tethered flocks of humanity's weaknesses with too much grace to be anything but. She didn't doubt his bravery, either. But the agitation...Fervently she hoped it had not been his heart drawing the great beast to that particular graveyard. In her golden world of the true Free Man, angst and fear were unwelcome guests; a conflicted mind held no appeal at all.
His face flickered before her eyes, a wide smirk distorting features she would have otherwise called attractive. Silver hair framed his pale face, jeweled eyes burned holes in her puny flesh and left her naked and shivering despite the invisible heat waves of confidence rippling from his slender body. Those eyes had narrowed in derision; how could she make them warm with admiration? This man, this untouchable pillar of self-reliance-she wanted to impress him, to leave a mark on that marble soul. Those eyes that had met Death's and laughed-what could she do that would earn their warmth? For all his strength, she was certain he could also be gentle in the presence of one he truly respected; she could almost feel the arms that had ripped free the Energist embracing her lightly, smell the well-worn leather of the true warrior, hear his voice like droplets in a pond savoring her name as she nestled close, safe from the world's involvement in her life as long as he was near: "Rephina. Rephina. Rephina..."
"...Rephina? Are you all right?"
"Just grab the damn juice, Ryu. She's brain-dead. The Sorceror extracted it to experiment on."
"Kagero!" The horror in Ryuon's voice shocked Rephina back to reality. What had she been thinking?--only stricken fools behaved like that! She laughed behind the backs of the starstruck masses demanding to hear about foreign dignitaries and millionaires after her trips; how could she let herself fall into the same pit? Yet if the snare was worth the trap...
"Can women join the army, Ryuon?" she asked suddenly, frowning, and barely heard his reply. Nearly every nerve in her body screamed not to follow the path her mind was mapping out in the footsteps of the silver-haired soldier. How could she willingly submit to the institution against which her spite and her hatred was directed; how could she let herself be herded to the slaughter? Preposterous. She'd die before she'd let someone order her around just because they had more spikes on their armor!
On the other hand, though: what could be a better confession of devotion than to throw everything, including her old prejudices, away? Her livelihood, her lifestyle, even her family would be abandoned if she let herself be swept onto that path. By securing this one tie, she'd sever the rest, most likely permanently. No one in her current life would ever forgive her. But she would be free. And it would have been her own choice.
/What the hell/, she thought in sudden decisiveness. /What kind of cousin would I be if I encouraged Ryuon to become a spy while my hands were bound against reaching my own dreams? It's about time I determined my own fate. And at the end of the road.../She would bend, she would slave, she would kill, all to impress one man with her sacrifice, a man she gathered wouldn't impress easily. And she had no way of knowing if the trade-off would be worth it.
Standing up and pushing her chair far away from the table, Rephina drew her sword and angled it towards Ryuon. "If you have time, I need to spar," she told him, not caring that her eccentric behavior was etching a worry line between her cousin's eyebrows and making Kagero wish he hadn't returned. Combat was nothing new to her. On the road, every member of a merchant caravan had to be able to defend themselves against marauders. Uncle Paxton was twice the man in girth and half in valor that he used to be, so Rephina trained for them both. One-on-one swordfighting always cleared her head, showed her what truly mattered to her by the thoughts fueling her blows. Someone had once quoted once of Gaea's three master swordsmen to her, and she'd taken the words to heart-- "It's yourself you must hone." Steel would point the way to her future. Rephina had a feeling Dilandau would approve.
O0o0o0o0o0
When had Ryuon gotten so damned good? She hadn't lost to him in ages, but look at her now!
"You want to call it a day?" he asked, offering her his hand; panting, she swatted it away and clambered to her feet, palms slippery against the hilt of her blade. It was no good. She couldn't focus. She was kidding herself.
No, that couldn't happen! Snarling, she charged Ryuon, who blocked her wild swing with a deft maneuver that turned into a thrust of its own; she barely parried in time. What kind of idiots are we, sparring with real swords? Someone's going to get hurt...but I don't want it to be me! She attacked again. He blocked almost effortlessly. She abandoned technique altogether and swung her weapon like a club; decisively he sent it flying from her sweaty hands. She made a grab for it, but he pressed his foot down hard on the blade to keep her from retrieving it.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked, concerned yet insistent.
"Aw, what's wrong?" she panted haggardly. "Am I not charging aggressively enough?"
"You're trying to kill me, that's what you're doing! Reph, if you need to vent, just tell me what's wrong! You've been out of it all day but I left you alone. Now I'm just scared! Reph, you aren't yourself! What's eating you?"
She collapsed into the chair Kagero had vacated shortly after the spar had been proposed; his excuse had been that he whacked enough people with sticks all day without doing it on his time off too. Neither cousin knew where he'd gone, but neither cared. Their attention was given solely to each other. "Ryu, I don't know..." she mumbled, burying her face in her arms. "I just don't know."
"Oh yes you do. You know, and you can't tell anyone, and that's what's gotten you this upset. You can trust me. It's just me." He sat next to her, squeezed her hand.
She grinned weakly. "That's what the spy always says."
He didn't return the smile. "You're not funny, Reph. Is it Father? Is he still mad about that pompous Fassa and his pet king? So the man provoked you. You think you're alone in that? He didn't get to his position of power by being anything but a conniving little bas--"
"I hate it when you swear." The frenzy was beginning to drain from her system. She was starting to see what had gotten her so disoriented. There had never been a true conflict in her mind at all-only a decision she'd known all along, hiding behind cowardice in the face of something new. "What you said earlier, about the dragons-where'd you get that?"
"I thought of it myself, based on what I've read about them. Rephina-is it Dilandau you're thinking about?"
Scrunching her eyes closed in shame, she nodded. He squeezed her hand again, then leaned over and shrugged her into a one-armed hug. "Gods, are you that nervous about my wanting to be in his unit? Don't worry-the man's a bit aggressive but I'm sure he's not a total maniac. No soldier worth his spit's that reckless."
She nearly laughed but instead found herself choking back tears. "No, Ryuon, I was just thinking about your poor father. Between your dreams of Soldier Baby and me we're going to send him to an early grave. See-Ryuon, I'm tired of everyone dictating my life. All I want is-gods, Ryu, it sounds so backwards, but I wanna join the army!"
o0o0o0o0o0
"I won't let you," said Paxton Jetura bluntly, pale eyes locked on his niece's with deadly gravity. "Even if they were willing to let you in, which you don't know for sure."
"And which I'll never know if I don't at least try!" snapped Rephina, throwing her arms wide in unexpected desperation. It was like arguing with a castle wall. No, harder. Castle walls could be knocked down with the right guymelefs, and Rephina didn't foresee any synthetic giants arriving to squash her uncle flat anytime soon.
Paxton's frown deepened, spread to the rest of his craggy face. Nervous fingers plucked at the lace on his sleeve in an uncommon sign of emotion from a man used to wearing others down. He was beginning to see for the first time that his perceptions of the world had been backwards: while he had thought Rephina dependent upon him for her livelihood, he in fact relied much more heavily on her. In one last bout, he switched tacts from obstinacy to reason. "We made a contract," he protested slowly. "In exchange for a position in my shop, a position coveted by many applicants more qualified than you, as well as your room and board, you would allow Ryuon to stay with you. Would you abandon your cousin? The boy cannot survive on his own yet."
"So three years later you let him join the army?" As his scowl spread, hers began to dissipate. Her merchant's mind, the frame of thought this very man had taught her, had wound its way through his arguments and stuffed itself in every chink. Oh, she was going to enjoy this. "If he's so helpless, why'd he kick my sorry behind all over the flat when last we sparred?--and you've seen me in action, you can't deny that I can handle a sword."
"For a woman, you wield your blade admirably," her uncle conceded in placating tones, but Rephina wasn't quite finished and had no intentions of stopping. If you could see me now, Dilandau, realizing how free I've always been-would you be proud, or scornful that it took me so long to discover? Someday I'll know.
"Hear me out, Uncle. Ryuon is receiving no favors from staying with me. Did you know they won't feed him? His reputation is being ruined-and you know how important reputation is. Let him stand on his own two feet; you'd be surprised how tall he's gotten." Why, that was almost poetic. In spite of herself, Rephina flushed with pride. She had him; oh, she had him now! Watch him, Dilandau. See the crafty look fade from his face as he builds his wall again. He has to hide behind the wall because now he's afraid of me. But I'm only just starting my argument.
"I will not allow you to leave my employment!" he insisted, jabbing a finger to make his point. She arched a honey-coated eyebrow and countered the blow.
"Why not? You said yourself that droves of people-better-qualified people-were after this position. Will I honestly be that hard to replace? After what happened in Asturia, you'll be better off alienating me from now on. Actually, I'm rather doing you a favor." A dagger called "guilt" pricked her stomach; he had been charitable to keep her on after she'd offended a king.../but/, the obstinately independent part of her mind argued, did I ask for his charity? No. He just used it to bind me tighter to him. It's all a control game, and I'm ready to break the rules! "True, when we made the agreement, I was starting out on my own and needed assistance. I thank you for being there in my time of hardship, but the time has come for our agreement to be terminated. I'm not cut out to be a merchant, as I'm sure King Aston would concur. I say too many radical things." Like that a man I've only seen once can be more important than you, whom I've known for years.
"You are a merchant as long as I say you are, and you work for me as long as I say you do," insisted her uncle before he was interrupted by a fit of coughing, the harsh Zaibach smog agitating his already-distraught condition.
"So what are you going to do if I fail to come to work? Fire me? I leave either way, Uncle Paxton," Rephina stated firmly, confidently-/oh hell, admit it/-triumphantly. "I am leaving your shop. I am joining the army, and you cannot stop me. As long as my superiors allow it, I shall continue to room with Ryuon in the flat, if you are still concerned about his well-being. That much at least I will do for you. But I will pay you rent like a tenant." Victory's embers glowed within her; basking in their light, she allowed her professional facade to crack, and a smile slipped through. Look at him. He was speechless!
Well, not quite. Paxton had one card left in his hand. "You cannot leave whenever you wish. I thought you understood, girl. As my niece, you have an obligation to help me. As family."
So that was why he was so bent on her staying. Not because of her skill at her job...and he had a point. All her tethers, everything she wrestled with, were all tied to that one stake. Family. How had it twisted into such a cage? Distressed, she pursed her lips. Help me here, Dilandau. If I'm giving everything up for you, you owe me this much. What do I say?
The answer was on her lips before she knew it, and she was shocked at its coldness even as it slipped from her tongue, but now there really was no turning back.
"I don't believe I chose to be your relation," she told her uncle crisply. "Why should I honor what I did not select?" Turning on her heel, she walked smartly away before he could stammer a reply, her long ponytail swishing like a satisfied cat's tail behind her. Despite herself, she did not look back.
O0o0o0o0o0
That night, Rephina opened the beaded logbook she'd bought in Palas and began a diary. Yet merely writing for herself was not enough.
Dear Lord Dilandau Albatou,
What a difference mere moments can make in a life. I am forever indebted to you for showing me the error of my previous ways and shall strive to further improve myself according to those ideals which you and I profess to share.
Tomorrow I take my first steps to your side. The army shall not be an easy place for me, but I can hardly believe that you are satisfied with unquestioning loyalty either. Perhaps together we can stand tall above the flock? Look for me; rest assured, my eyes shall be upon you.
Only a very cunning and talented snoop would have noticed the attachment to the entry, scribbled upside-down in tiny print along the bottom margin of her page.
Dear Jeture, help me! Am I doing the right thing?
"Dilandau Albatou?" Kagero's left eye was so puffy his glasses wouldn't sit straight on his face. "He's all everyone talked about today. And he's nuts."
"He cut off that general's head to keep him from surrendering so the battle would continue," added Ryuon grimly. "Or at least that's what I heard."
"He first piloted a 'melef when he was twelve, and upgraded to a guymelef six months later after trashing the old one in an Energist mine." Kagero's eyes kept flicking to the clock on the wall, checking the free time he had left. Apparently he didn't want his commanding officer to turn his eyes into a matching set.
"Why would they upgrade him if he trashed the one he had?" asked Rephina, refilling Kagero's piscus juice.
Ryuon snorted. "Apparently a dragon came to the graveyard to die and got helped along a bit. He ripped out its Energist with his bare hands. While it was still breathing."
"I wonder if he kept it?" wondered Kagero with the morbid curiosity unique to sheltered adolescents.
"You're disgusting," Rephina told him flatly, but she hung onto every word. It was fascinating. Why had no one heard of this man until now? Where had he come from, that he could commit such reckless acts and not only survive, but be promoted for them? Personally, she thought Dilandau had indeed kept the Energist. She could see him in her mind's eye, a mere slip of a silver-haired boy, standing disheveled and discolored yet triumphant amid the carcass of the dragon, one pale hand gripping the hard-won jewel as if to say, "I won this myself, so no one may deprive me of it. I rely on no skills but my own. What I need, I take-no questions asked." All her life, she had wanted that to be her own creed. Yet things kept piling up...how did he manage to keep his outlook so simple? Didn't he have a family?
"Is he native?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "You'd think a twelve-year-old killing a dragon would merit a mention somewhere."
"That's the creepy thing," said Kagero, dropping his voice. "Nobody knows."
"And anyway," interjected Ryuon, "why do you care? Where'd you hear the name, anyway?"
Touchy that he hadn't remembered it yesterday? Ryuon, that was almost cute. "Oh, I met him today," she said casually, steepling her fingers lightly and resting her chin atop them. "How was training?"
"Hold on." Kagero adjusted his glasses, blinked at her. "You're saying you-met Dilandau Albatou? Where?"
"In HQ. You forgot your lunch, Ryuon," she told him ruefully. He sighed.
"I know. The cooks wouldn't feed me in the mess hall since I usually pack. When you never showed up I thought you'd figured I made one. Where were you?"
"Sidetracked."
"With Dilandau?" asked Kagero.
"You could say that." She gave them her best enigmatic smile, thoroughly enjoying watching them writhe in anticipation. Finally, someone else's turn to be on tenterhooks. "Trying to find you, I ran into him and a few of his friends."
"What was he like?" For all of Ryuon's apparent disdain for the man, he certainly was inquisitive enough. Perhaps it was the "communications specialist" in him... "Did you talk?"
"Not really." Awkwardly she fought the blush squirming to rise in her cheeks. "I said excuse me, and he said who the hell are you, and I explained, and General Adelphos confiscated your lunch as he disapproves of special treatment, and Strategos kindly sent me on my way." She sipped her juice, full lips puckering from the sour flavor. "Nothing too exciting." She didn't mention, though she'd enjoyed it, seeing Adelphos sneak a bite of Ryuon's lunch. Why tarnish the man's image? He'd seemed to like the food, so in return she'd keep his sheep in the dark.
Besides, more important things had happened in that hallway. Brilliant, blazing eyes had met her own, a beautifully self-assured voice had addressed her directly. True, the words it had used were harsh and abrupt, but the fearlessness even such words conveyed was staggering. Both Adelphos and the Sorcerer had tried to conceal their suspicions-but Dilandau Albatou was too good for any mask.
They were both gaping at her now, at the mention of General Adelphos this time. Rephina wondered if either knew what "Strategos" meant-probably not, or else Kagero at least would've had a heart attack. She herself wondered how she'd managed to make it through the encounter. Had she sounded too flustered? Too helpless? Too suspicious? Had her hair looked all right when Dilandau saw her?
And what kind of an inane question was that?
"Stop staring at me!" she ordered, embarrassed. "It was nothing, all right? Dil...Lord Albatou just makes quite an impression, that's all. I figured since he's sort of the guest of honor you might..."
"Well, I didn't see him," said Ryuon darkly. "I guess he's just too good for all of us."
This confused Rephina. "But...he was heading for the barracks!" Remembering the purpose of the meeting, she smiled conspiratorially at her cousin and his friend. "He's been given permission to form an elite group of guymelef pilots. So be on your best behavior...although I guess you don't care, Ryuon."
She'd lost Kagero to battle fantasies on the word "guymelef," his eyes shining with imagined glory behind both glasses and bruise. Ryuon, on the other hand, was perfectly lucid...if a bit incredulous. "Why wouldn't I care? This...if you're right, this could be my big break!" Suddenly restless, he stood, pacing the length of the table while running his fingers through his teased blond hair. "Every small-forces group has at least one infiltrator...if I play my cards right, it could be me...Reph, how could you think I wouldn't care?" The question was tinged with an almost whiny hurt, odd in a boy with such a low voice. "This could be it for me!"
"But you don't like him." She said it emotionlessly, trying to understand. She hadn't pegged Ryuon as the type who'd follow someone he hated for the sake of his own petty glory and felt a bit disappointed in her cousin. Don't tie yourself to the wrong place, Ryuon. You'll never be freed... Though it would be nice if Ryuon made the team and invited his commander for dinner.
"I don't like some of his methods," he corrected, still pacing. "But that doesn't negate the fact that he's a brilliant soldier. We should not have won that Ezgardian skirmish-but we did. Why? He cared more about defending Zaibach than what might be said afterwards. And the dragon...that was unnecessary, but he was young. Jeture, the fact that he killed the thing is credentials enough for me to follow him anywhere!"
"You lost me."
Ryuon sighed. "To slay a dragon, Rephina, is to stare down death and win. Not just physically-think about it: an agitated heart draws dragons, so to kill one means you're destroying the consequences of your own anger and fear. You're taking responsibility for your weaknesses so no one suffers because of them. How can you not follow a commander like that?"
She hadn't put it in that light, but while Kagero heckled his metaphor-spouting friend Rephina mulled the words over in her mind, tasting them carefully. Did she agree with him? That Dilandau was worth following went without saying; he transcended the petty tethered flocks of humanity's weaknesses with too much grace to be anything but. She didn't doubt his bravery, either. But the agitation...Fervently she hoped it had not been his heart drawing the great beast to that particular graveyard. In her golden world of the true Free Man, angst and fear were unwelcome guests; a conflicted mind held no appeal at all.
His face flickered before her eyes, a wide smirk distorting features she would have otherwise called attractive. Silver hair framed his pale face, jeweled eyes burned holes in her puny flesh and left her naked and shivering despite the invisible heat waves of confidence rippling from his slender body. Those eyes had narrowed in derision; how could she make them warm with admiration? This man, this untouchable pillar of self-reliance-she wanted to impress him, to leave a mark on that marble soul. Those eyes that had met Death's and laughed-what could she do that would earn their warmth? For all his strength, she was certain he could also be gentle in the presence of one he truly respected; she could almost feel the arms that had ripped free the Energist embracing her lightly, smell the well-worn leather of the true warrior, hear his voice like droplets in a pond savoring her name as she nestled close, safe from the world's involvement in her life as long as he was near: "Rephina. Rephina. Rephina..."
"...Rephina? Are you all right?"
"Just grab the damn juice, Ryu. She's brain-dead. The Sorceror extracted it to experiment on."
"Kagero!" The horror in Ryuon's voice shocked Rephina back to reality. What had she been thinking?--only stricken fools behaved like that! She laughed behind the backs of the starstruck masses demanding to hear about foreign dignitaries and millionaires after her trips; how could she let herself fall into the same pit? Yet if the snare was worth the trap...
"Can women join the army, Ryuon?" she asked suddenly, frowning, and barely heard his reply. Nearly every nerve in her body screamed not to follow the path her mind was mapping out in the footsteps of the silver-haired soldier. How could she willingly submit to the institution against which her spite and her hatred was directed; how could she let herself be herded to the slaughter? Preposterous. She'd die before she'd let someone order her around just because they had more spikes on their armor!
On the other hand, though: what could be a better confession of devotion than to throw everything, including her old prejudices, away? Her livelihood, her lifestyle, even her family would be abandoned if she let herself be swept onto that path. By securing this one tie, she'd sever the rest, most likely permanently. No one in her current life would ever forgive her. But she would be free. And it would have been her own choice.
/What the hell/, she thought in sudden decisiveness. /What kind of cousin would I be if I encouraged Ryuon to become a spy while my hands were bound against reaching my own dreams? It's about time I determined my own fate. And at the end of the road.../She would bend, she would slave, she would kill, all to impress one man with her sacrifice, a man she gathered wouldn't impress easily. And she had no way of knowing if the trade-off would be worth it.
Standing up and pushing her chair far away from the table, Rephina drew her sword and angled it towards Ryuon. "If you have time, I need to spar," she told him, not caring that her eccentric behavior was etching a worry line between her cousin's eyebrows and making Kagero wish he hadn't returned. Combat was nothing new to her. On the road, every member of a merchant caravan had to be able to defend themselves against marauders. Uncle Paxton was twice the man in girth and half in valor that he used to be, so Rephina trained for them both. One-on-one swordfighting always cleared her head, showed her what truly mattered to her by the thoughts fueling her blows. Someone had once quoted once of Gaea's three master swordsmen to her, and she'd taken the words to heart-- "It's yourself you must hone." Steel would point the way to her future. Rephina had a feeling Dilandau would approve.
O0o0o0o0o0
When had Ryuon gotten so damned good? She hadn't lost to him in ages, but look at her now!
"You want to call it a day?" he asked, offering her his hand; panting, she swatted it away and clambered to her feet, palms slippery against the hilt of her blade. It was no good. She couldn't focus. She was kidding herself.
No, that couldn't happen! Snarling, she charged Ryuon, who blocked her wild swing with a deft maneuver that turned into a thrust of its own; she barely parried in time. What kind of idiots are we, sparring with real swords? Someone's going to get hurt...but I don't want it to be me! She attacked again. He blocked almost effortlessly. She abandoned technique altogether and swung her weapon like a club; decisively he sent it flying from her sweaty hands. She made a grab for it, but he pressed his foot down hard on the blade to keep her from retrieving it.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked, concerned yet insistent.
"Aw, what's wrong?" she panted haggardly. "Am I not charging aggressively enough?"
"You're trying to kill me, that's what you're doing! Reph, if you need to vent, just tell me what's wrong! You've been out of it all day but I left you alone. Now I'm just scared! Reph, you aren't yourself! What's eating you?"
She collapsed into the chair Kagero had vacated shortly after the spar had been proposed; his excuse had been that he whacked enough people with sticks all day without doing it on his time off too. Neither cousin knew where he'd gone, but neither cared. Their attention was given solely to each other. "Ryu, I don't know..." she mumbled, burying her face in her arms. "I just don't know."
"Oh yes you do. You know, and you can't tell anyone, and that's what's gotten you this upset. You can trust me. It's just me." He sat next to her, squeezed her hand.
She grinned weakly. "That's what the spy always says."
He didn't return the smile. "You're not funny, Reph. Is it Father? Is he still mad about that pompous Fassa and his pet king? So the man provoked you. You think you're alone in that? He didn't get to his position of power by being anything but a conniving little bas--"
"I hate it when you swear." The frenzy was beginning to drain from her system. She was starting to see what had gotten her so disoriented. There had never been a true conflict in her mind at all-only a decision she'd known all along, hiding behind cowardice in the face of something new. "What you said earlier, about the dragons-where'd you get that?"
"I thought of it myself, based on what I've read about them. Rephina-is it Dilandau you're thinking about?"
Scrunching her eyes closed in shame, she nodded. He squeezed her hand again, then leaned over and shrugged her into a one-armed hug. "Gods, are you that nervous about my wanting to be in his unit? Don't worry-the man's a bit aggressive but I'm sure he's not a total maniac. No soldier worth his spit's that reckless."
She nearly laughed but instead found herself choking back tears. "No, Ryuon, I was just thinking about your poor father. Between your dreams of Soldier Baby and me we're going to send him to an early grave. See-Ryuon, I'm tired of everyone dictating my life. All I want is-gods, Ryu, it sounds so backwards, but I wanna join the army!"
o0o0o0o0o0
"I won't let you," said Paxton Jetura bluntly, pale eyes locked on his niece's with deadly gravity. "Even if they were willing to let you in, which you don't know for sure."
"And which I'll never know if I don't at least try!" snapped Rephina, throwing her arms wide in unexpected desperation. It was like arguing with a castle wall. No, harder. Castle walls could be knocked down with the right guymelefs, and Rephina didn't foresee any synthetic giants arriving to squash her uncle flat anytime soon.
Paxton's frown deepened, spread to the rest of his craggy face. Nervous fingers plucked at the lace on his sleeve in an uncommon sign of emotion from a man used to wearing others down. He was beginning to see for the first time that his perceptions of the world had been backwards: while he had thought Rephina dependent upon him for her livelihood, he in fact relied much more heavily on her. In one last bout, he switched tacts from obstinacy to reason. "We made a contract," he protested slowly. "In exchange for a position in my shop, a position coveted by many applicants more qualified than you, as well as your room and board, you would allow Ryuon to stay with you. Would you abandon your cousin? The boy cannot survive on his own yet."
"So three years later you let him join the army?" As his scowl spread, hers began to dissipate. Her merchant's mind, the frame of thought this very man had taught her, had wound its way through his arguments and stuffed itself in every chink. Oh, she was going to enjoy this. "If he's so helpless, why'd he kick my sorry behind all over the flat when last we sparred?--and you've seen me in action, you can't deny that I can handle a sword."
"For a woman, you wield your blade admirably," her uncle conceded in placating tones, but Rephina wasn't quite finished and had no intentions of stopping. If you could see me now, Dilandau, realizing how free I've always been-would you be proud, or scornful that it took me so long to discover? Someday I'll know.
"Hear me out, Uncle. Ryuon is receiving no favors from staying with me. Did you know they won't feed him? His reputation is being ruined-and you know how important reputation is. Let him stand on his own two feet; you'd be surprised how tall he's gotten." Why, that was almost poetic. In spite of herself, Rephina flushed with pride. She had him; oh, she had him now! Watch him, Dilandau. See the crafty look fade from his face as he builds his wall again. He has to hide behind the wall because now he's afraid of me. But I'm only just starting my argument.
"I will not allow you to leave my employment!" he insisted, jabbing a finger to make his point. She arched a honey-coated eyebrow and countered the blow.
"Why not? You said yourself that droves of people-better-qualified people-were after this position. Will I honestly be that hard to replace? After what happened in Asturia, you'll be better off alienating me from now on. Actually, I'm rather doing you a favor." A dagger called "guilt" pricked her stomach; he had been charitable to keep her on after she'd offended a king.../but/, the obstinately independent part of her mind argued, did I ask for his charity? No. He just used it to bind me tighter to him. It's all a control game, and I'm ready to break the rules! "True, when we made the agreement, I was starting out on my own and needed assistance. I thank you for being there in my time of hardship, but the time has come for our agreement to be terminated. I'm not cut out to be a merchant, as I'm sure King Aston would concur. I say too many radical things." Like that a man I've only seen once can be more important than you, whom I've known for years.
"You are a merchant as long as I say you are, and you work for me as long as I say you do," insisted her uncle before he was interrupted by a fit of coughing, the harsh Zaibach smog agitating his already-distraught condition.
"So what are you going to do if I fail to come to work? Fire me? I leave either way, Uncle Paxton," Rephina stated firmly, confidently-/oh hell, admit it/-triumphantly. "I am leaving your shop. I am joining the army, and you cannot stop me. As long as my superiors allow it, I shall continue to room with Ryuon in the flat, if you are still concerned about his well-being. That much at least I will do for you. But I will pay you rent like a tenant." Victory's embers glowed within her; basking in their light, she allowed her professional facade to crack, and a smile slipped through. Look at him. He was speechless!
Well, not quite. Paxton had one card left in his hand. "You cannot leave whenever you wish. I thought you understood, girl. As my niece, you have an obligation to help me. As family."
So that was why he was so bent on her staying. Not because of her skill at her job...and he had a point. All her tethers, everything she wrestled with, were all tied to that one stake. Family. How had it twisted into such a cage? Distressed, she pursed her lips. Help me here, Dilandau. If I'm giving everything up for you, you owe me this much. What do I say?
The answer was on her lips before she knew it, and she was shocked at its coldness even as it slipped from her tongue, but now there really was no turning back.
"I don't believe I chose to be your relation," she told her uncle crisply. "Why should I honor what I did not select?" Turning on her heel, she walked smartly away before he could stammer a reply, her long ponytail swishing like a satisfied cat's tail behind her. Despite herself, she did not look back.
O0o0o0o0o0
That night, Rephina opened the beaded logbook she'd bought in Palas and began a diary. Yet merely writing for herself was not enough.
Dear Lord Dilandau Albatou,
What a difference mere moments can make in a life. I am forever indebted to you for showing me the error of my previous ways and shall strive to further improve myself according to those ideals which you and I profess to share.
Tomorrow I take my first steps to your side. The army shall not be an easy place for me, but I can hardly believe that you are satisfied with unquestioning loyalty either. Perhaps together we can stand tall above the flock? Look for me; rest assured, my eyes shall be upon you.
Only a very cunning and talented snoop would have noticed the attachment to the entry, scribbled upside-down in tiny print along the bottom margin of her page.
Dear Jeture, help me! Am I doing the right thing?
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