Violet Tear - Part V (Awakening)

Regret.

An emotion so intense that it flooded every inch of Sirus' heart. Like the raging seas it churned, bringing the young man to the point of despair, his thoughts invaded by the howling voices of the fallen. He fought with all he could muster, battled against the furious current and the bruising waves, somehow managing to stay afloat - even as the salt of the sea filled his mouth and choked him. With every night it became harder to push back. What started as a mere bag of sand now felt as though a blacksmith's anvil, pushing harder and harder upon his shoulders, breaking his back.

"You are worthless. In Eloria's name... your duty remains unfinished."

Too many good souls had joined Eloria already, bathed in the warmth of her embrace. One by one their lives had faded into nothingness like magical residue upon the wind. There one minute. Happy. Laughing. Sharing jokes as they travelled Sirus' his side. Gone the next. Poisoned by shadow magic. Taken by plague. Cut down by the polished edge of a straightsword. Devoured by Furbanx. Those he cared for, those he held in high regard, were ripped away by the icy wraith-like fingers of demise.

"You cannot do anything right, can you, Sirus?"

"Be quiet," he protested in a quiet whisper, rejecting the haunting echos as they crept through his skull.H e'd done his best. By the goddess he'd stood his ground. "It was out of my power!"

The sea wailed in denial - Sirus kicked his legs harder to avoid drowning. He knew these waters, feared them, and hated them.

"Poor Barry would not agree with you, would he? What will become of his wife and children now he lay sliced open in the dirt?"

The voice was right. It was always right. Poor Neria would be forced to work in the mines. Worse, whore her body to men twice her age. Her children? A life of servitude awaited them with one of the many blue-blood houses still unmoved from the top of the ladder, at some faraway town in the Mining Belt. Sirus cursed himself, kicking harder as the abyss latched on, wrapping its claws around his legs.

"I did-" The Leesian flailed, panic shooting throughout his body, heart thundering as the bitter taste of salt strangled him - liquid flooded his mouth, eyes burning as his head sank below the waterline. Murky blackness reached out from all corners - Sirus' lungs filled to bursting. His digits shot around his neck in a desperate attempt to find air where there was only ocean.

Deeper and deeper he sank, guided to the depths, toward terror. Toward the end.

"Witness their pain, Acolyte. The sea is your mistress. May you find naught but torment eternal as you sink into oblivion."

Sirus spasmed, tendrils wrapped him and throttled his will to resist. His bones snapped, his joints popped, limbs ripped free in misty clouds of red. Furious convulsions forced his eyes into the back of his head.

"Eloria welcomes you home, knave."

Screams cascaded over what remained of the young mage. His strength waned. Ghostly visions of the dead penetrated his every agony-fuelled thought. Defeated, as the waves devoured his tattered remains.

"You deserve to suffer."

"Yes," Sirus answered the voices of the dead. "Yes I do."

"LET ME GO!"

Sirus shot bolt upright, sweat misted his face. He shivered fearfully, running his fingertips across shirtless torso. Everything looked intact, save a gory red wound along the length of his chest, stopping just before his stomach, held shut by simple, neat stitching.

"Thank Eloria," Sirus took a deep breath and exhaled his unease. "Just a nightmare."

A warm orange campfire crackled off to the side, its soothing orange flames calmed the hurried pounding of his heart.

The scent of fresh forest air filled Sirus' nostrils, a sensation sorely missed. He drank up a hearty mouthful, quietly treasuring such a simple pleasure. Fireflies buzzed around - tiny yellowy-golden shimmers at the edges of his vision.

"Wait," the Leesian paused. Flashes of blood and gore stuffed his thoughts. That burning blast of white light, and the disgusting smells of death and demise. They were both coming back. "Shido!"

Sirus craned his neck off to the right, and nothing but trees greeted him - while there was only a small dirt road off to the left. Where was the caravan?! "How in the- What happened?"

Leaves crunched at Sirus' back. He breathed hard and sucked in a mouthful of air. Despite the burning across his mid-section, he clambered upright. The simple act of moving felt as though a knife tore at his chest wound.

"Y-You're awake? Thank goodness. I can aid in answering your questions." A woman took Sirus by the shoulders and helped him stay upright. Her ample lips lifted into an uneasy smile, her violet eyes widened. "'Tis fortunate that I was able to help you, if no one else..."

"Karita," Sirus smiled faintly, comforted in the knowledge that he wasn't alone. There was no mistaking the girl's smooth olive skin and long, black silky hair - nor her familiar serpentine-patterned dress. "Where are we?"

Everything was the same no matter where he looked. Trees, trees and more damn trees. Only the small, half burned-out campfire he'd awoken beside, acted as a marker. An orange dot amidst countless Avalonian Oaks that climbed high into the night sky, their branches, long; regal, and flush with green leaves.

"Hmm?" Karita blushed. She eased back and released Sirus from her grasp - as timid as a mouse of the Hersan Valley. She threw her head down in a bow of apology. "Forgive me for getting so close! I am merely relieved to see you standing. The others?" Karita shivered. "All dead. T'was luck that I found you. Your heart had seldom a beat left in it."

"I'm not important. It's alright," replied Sirus, "I'd much prefer to return to the caravan," he sighed.  Barry, the old bear, his dear friend, deserved a proper burial if it were at all possible.

"I can take you there," said Karita. "But you should rest, first. It will do no good if you worsen your injury." She pointed at Sirus' chest. "The bodies of the departed will remain in place. Your cut is fresh. It needs the care of medicine and spellcraft."

Sirus felt his stomach tighten. The idea of standing around here was... frustrating. His hand pulled into a fist, beyond rhyme or reason. "Great. Just great." The Acolyte scoffed. "Another person I couldn't protect... Fan-fucking-tastic."

"You-" Karita spoke shakily. She sat upon a small collapsed log off to the side of the makeshift campfire. Sirus started her dead on - eye to eye. "You fought hard. I watched from behind the carts as Sir Barry and yourself encountered the Ronin."

"For what good it was worth." Sirus fought in vain to forget his failure. He averted his gaze and caught sight a large stitched brown pack beside the weakly crackling fire. It was filled to the brim with non-perishable food goods in paper packets, glass alchemy bottles, and cloth bandages. "Karita. Did you drag me all the way here by yourself?"

The Parsaani girl nodded meekly. "Carrying you was the easy part. Come now. Sit down and I'll explain."

"There wine in that backpack?"

Karita frowned at Sirus. "Yes... But perhaps now isn't the time to-"

"Then I'm listening." One uncorked bottle of hooch later and Sirus was all ears to the situation. Each sip turned into a hearty swing, until half the bottle of the sweet, fruity tipple was gone. There was one piece of knowledge in particular that caught him off guard - his alcohol-dulled senses be damned.

"A whole day?! I've been asleep for an entire day?"

Karita held her open palms close to the dancing flames of the fire, rewarding its orange glow with a sweet chuckle. Any closer to those embers and Sirus feared she'd burn herself. Not that she seemed to care in the slightest.

"Tis closer to two, Sirus. I began to wonder if you would wake. Praise be to Princess Asha you did."

"Hold on." A shiver crawled up Sirus' back at the mention of Asha. "You're a Shadow Mage? You didn't heal me using Life Arts, did you?"

Karita gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "I-I didn't. I promise you. B-But- You know about Life Magic?"

"You could say that," Sirus necked a good, stiff mouthful of the red stuff for courage. His heart still sank like an anchor cast to the depths of the sea. "A girl I was sweet on... she was kinda like you, a Parsaani. She followed Adema's teachings, though. Life Magic."

"Wonderful." Karita's fear turned quickly - becoming a bright smile. She hopped up from her seat upon the log and came around the campfire. Sirus made space so that she could sit beside him, though he didn't overlook the sudden change in her persona. "You are versed in the ways of my people," continued Karita. "You surprise me."

Sirus nodded, sucking the wine bottle dry. His much needed buzz hadn't come around yet. Then again, nowadays it took two bottles instead of one. "My girl- Nisha. She told stories about your desert homeland. Your class-system's shit... but then again, is any country perfect?"

Silence descended. Karita's smile faded into nothingness. Her violet eyes became glassy, distant even. "That's why I saved you. B-Because you've been kind. You risked your life to defend us - to defend me." The Parsaani shuffled nearer and placed her hand atop of Sirus'. "On the Desert Trail there's no such consideration for commoners."

An admission Sirus far from expected. He felt his heart kick within his chest. He'd not fought against Shido for thanks, or praise. Murderers were just that - murderers. They brought nothing but pain and misery to any and all they touched. "T-Thanks. But I don't need gratitude."

"Yes, you do," Karita pulled her hand away. She hid her face behind strands of black hair. "Because- Because this is all my fault."

Karita broke like glass. Her eyes became misty, tearful. "I shan't hold it against you if you hate me... but I'll not hide in plain sight any longer. My actions have pained you twice now." She lifted her skirt, revealing one of her smooth curvaceous legs.

Sirus rasped. "Is that... what I think it is?" A tattoo. A sensual cobra, mighty, fanged; and beautiful, stretched out across Karita's skin, swirling from the top of her thigh and coming to a stop just below the knee. At a snap of its owner’s fingers the tattoo pulsed - an aura of darkest night resonated forth in a low, nauseating hum.

"My full name is Karita Kei Asani," she admitted heavily, bringing her skirt back down. "We first met in Leesia."

A dozen flashed memories and recollections alike, gripped Sirus tight. His eyes shot wide. Karita Kei Asani. Kei. What a damnable fool he'd been! All this time she'd been sat right in front of him! She'd been travelling in the same direction as he drink cups of wine with his friends.

"So, this is it then?" As much as it hurt, Sirus struggled to his feet. "Lady Eloria, a hand, if you will." An orb of water phased into being within the palm of his hand. He prepared for the worst. "You're here to kill me, are you?"

"No..." Karita continued to cry. Her whimpers became painful sobs. And she threw herself at Sirus' feet in surrender, "It was not supposed to be like this," she kept repeating over and over. "They're dead... They're all dead... because of me."

Sirus backed off, disgusted at his own short-sightedness. He took up a stance of battle (as much it stung to do so) - arms held wide. "You played me for a fool. Why steal the Violet Tear? Do you still have it? I'd like an answer, if you please!"

"B-Because," Karita crumpled into the dirt in total submission. She dared not move, choking out a sob, reduced to sorrowful mess. "Shido desired to gather a band or his fellow Ronin and strike Leesia. His wish was to take Eloria's Tear by force," Karita explained, finally finding the will to meet Sirus face to face. "I'm a spy, good sir. Lady Magissa of Black tasked me with stopping Shido. When word of his true plan reached my ear... there was nary enough time left to act. I had no choice."

"So you mislead Barry? You lied to my face?"

"Please..." Karita melted into a sorrowful heap, "I didn't want such an awful fate to befall our travelling companions..."

Oh she didn't, did she? Sirus bit back a furious snarl, whipping up an orb of fluid, watery energy. A storm raged within his palm; boiled with the ferocity of a typhoon on the eastern coast. "You used us as bait to smuggle your dirty secret."

"I'm sorry! With Asha as witness I am sorry... But hundreds would have met their ends if Shido attacked Leesia."

Karita's words froze Sirus solid. "So your idea," Sirus felt comfy in assuming, at least to a point, "was sneaking out with the Violet Tear to spare Leesia from harm?"

"Yes. I did not expect him to give chase," Karita whispered in admittance, gazing shamefully into Sirus' blue eyes. "Those traders have joined Asha beyond the veil because of my mistake. That is why I gave my all to treat your wounds. T'was not simple. Three times I almost lost you to bleeding."

A jolt of remorse made Sirus' blood run cold. What was he doing, allowing his anger to take control of his senses like this? He exhaled and brought his hands to the sides. The bubbling spell within his palm evaporated in a cloud of steam. "No... I should cool my temper. Barry wouldn't want this. C'mon, Karita. Stand."

The Parsaani didn't budge.

In golden desserts of Parsaan to the south, trade convoys travelled in their dozens. And two white-stone cities stretched close to the clouds. It was a place with culture just as diverse and different as it was here in Rena. Sirus had read about it during his frequent trips to the temple library; he'd wanted even more to see it for himself. Such literature spoke of how forward and unguarded the Parsaani were with their emotions. They'd shower their friends and lovers with praise and affection when happy; likewise throwing themselves at the feet of those they'd slighted or wronged.

The reality was far from romantic.

"Karita," repeated Sirus, kneeling and offering his hand, "There's no need to cry. C'mon... stand."

Karita rose her head, hesitating. "Don't worry," Sirus reassured her. "You're not in Parsaan. You've no reason to hurl yourself into the filth and grovel. Sit beside me and we'll talk. Getting angry won't chance the situation we find ourselves in. What's done... is done."

"Okay..." Karita took Sirus' outstretched hand and came to her feet. She brushed the leaves and dried mud from the edges of her dress. The pair sat again beside the dying flames of the campfire. For the longest time there was quiet, stillness. Nothing but the hoot of owls and the chirps of crickets broke the weighty, painful silence.

How despicable Sirus felt to have lost his temper - and in the presence of a woman so beautiful, no less.

""It's within your right to be angry," said Karita, dabbing away the last of the tears in the lacy fabric of her gloves. "My actions were far from noble, even if my goals were. At least I was able to protect you, Sirus..."

"You had to save someone, eh?" Sirus scoffed at that. "Goddess help me. You and I are more alike than you realize, Miss Asani." Too many good people lost their lives in this harsh world, and sometimes far too young. They were there one minute and gone the next. You've seen people die, haven't you? I can tell. It's in the way you speak."

"You have too, haven't you, Sirus?"

"Too many times...."

Sirus flinched as Karita placed her hand atop of his, linking their fingers together. Her warmth was... comforting. "Then let us carry on walking," she said. "Once you heal we could continue to the first town in Avalon. You are a priest. Surely you do not wish to see the Tear come to harm?"

"Acolyte," Sirus reminded Karita. "And you're still carrying it? Shido didn't get his hands on it?"

"No. He did not. It is still safely in my possession."

"Fine..." Sighed Sirus. "Let's make their deaths mean something. But on one condition," he said sternly. "No more secrets. You lie to me again and I'm out of here, as soon as I can walk."

"Agreed... My lack of honesty has cost too much already..." Karita gave Sirus' hand a supportive squeeze. "Shez vien tay. El estaart vonz ko-si sho res ya."

"Well shit," now that was the last thing Sirus expected to hear. "You're fluent in the old Parsaani tongue. Isn't that a dying language outside of nobles? Karita kept on talking. Her rolls of the tongue flowed with whimsical melody, the intricacies of her native speech, utterly lost upon his ears. "Hey... slow down there. Just cuz I understand the wording, it doesn't mean I'm fluent."

"Oh... forgive me," Karita blushed softly - her cheeks shone a soft shade of rouge. "Zei los ro san-es to vaan, sura."

This time her words were far slower, even if Sirus still didn't have a clue about the specifics.

"You're gonna have to help me. Nisha didn't teach me a word."

Karita giggled in response and leaned closer; the softness of her breath tickled his ear. "Zei los ro san-es to vaan, sura. My undying gratitude for your kindness, friend. Sura. 'Sura' means 'Friend' in the words of my people."

"Just... keep your word on the honesty front, Karita. And we'll do just fine as friends."

Side by side, hand in hand, the duo watched as the final embers of the fire flickered out. Tiny rays of fresh orange sunlight peered through the treetops. And Sirus, despite all he'd been through, breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

He'd avenge those who had so tragically lost their lives.

And he'd give Barry the funeral he deserved.

To be continued....