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Violet Tear - Part XVII (Departure)

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Sirus spat red upon the concrete. It didn't matter the cost. No matter how far he had to go, or who he had to fight. He wouldn't let any more innocent blood stain his hands. Enough anguished faces visited him in his sleep already. So: no matter what... he was getting the box.

Even if his legs threatened to give out from under him. Even if he'd already taken blow after blow from bludgeoning spells - this fight was not over yet. Not until he couldn't stand a moment longer.

"Glacia... Just give it to me, already. I'm not going to-"

Every warning light within his thoughts cried red, sirens sounding in silence.

Glacia frowned: the concern upon her face was all too obvious, even as she kept up her attacks.

At the start of this magical tussle of theirs, she was smiling, all too content to lay down the hurt and stand her ground. Now? Hesitance had taken hold. She was going easy, only lobbing enough projectiles to keep Sirus at bay. At one moment she'd looked as though she wanted to cry.

"Stop this," she spoke with fragility, pushing Sirus back, his skin tingling, with a gust of sub-zero wind. "You're about to fall down, love."

"No." A shake of the head. A step forward. And another. And another. One after the other until the gap was closed. "I'm not- I can't walk away. It's the only way to set things right."

Grandfather would've been awfully disappointed. Wherever he was now, be it the far side of the world in Nozakia, or hiding out somewhere in the Union, he'd be shaking his head at his grandson's constant failure: guaranteed.

The truth tasted bitter as the blood in Sirus' mouth. After all, he was a child of magical and Unionist blood alike. He'd learned to fight hand-to-hand like an Elizian commando, honed his skills against the warrior monks of Kai, and dedicated his life in service of Eloria. All of this, and he'd never once managed to save a single solitary life. Until that day came?

I can never look Grandfather Erniz in the eye.

Try as he might to keep going against Glacia, however, the pain simply wouldn't shift, his body bruised and battered from many a blunt, jarring impact. Sirus winced, pleading with Glacia at this point.

"I need-"

"Dammit, fine!" Glacia broke, sucking in a breath, streaks of watery emotion leaking down her pale cheeks. She threw her arms around Sirus, holding him up to prevent his collapse, nestling against his chest as his toned body, usually so sturdy, shuddered with pain.

"You can have your bloody box. If that's what it takes to make you stop. You think I'm enjoying this? Of course I'm not. Just promise me one thing. Do that for me, and you can have the bothersome thing back."

Anything, given she'd held her ground with such dedication. Anything Miss Doiteain asked, Sirus would do.

"Name it."

"When you're finally done with this crazy quest of yours, you and I are going travelling together. We're going to see the world from corner to corner... and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer after tonight."

Sirus smiled, doing his best to ignore the throbbing across his sides. Of course. Glacia had talked so often about the two of them seeing what the world had to offer. Time and again she'd sat by the window on a cold Winter's evening, hope alive in her bright crimsonite eyes that one day she'd be able to leave the inn (and her father) in the care of someone else, even if just for a short time, so that she and Sirus could truly bond.

They'd never done so, even to this day, but with Old Man Zorus gone, there was no excuse not to, anymore.

"I'd be more than happy to, Glacie. It's a promise. We'll leave Rena for a while, go wherever your heart desires. That is- Oww..."

Sirus sighed, his energy spent, a sharp, stabbing knfe of sorts prodding between his ribs.

"It's alright," Glacia shushed him, putting an arm around his middle to keep him from falling in a heap. "I'll take your word for it. Let's focus on getting you healed up. And," the petite lass flushed pink, "I'm sorry I hit you..."

She had nothing to apologize for. Sirus hugged her in return, raw jolts coursing up his back.

"Don't. I can be hard to deal with sometimes. You weren't really in the wrong."

"Sometimes?" Glacia snorted, giving a roll of the eyes. "Boy, if I weren't here watching after you, who knows where you'd be."

Never had truer words been uttered.


Sirus slouched against the bar, the Icy Heart Inn so very quiet at this hour. Several mugs of ale and a few generous white-magic spells later, he slid his arms into his coat, exchanging a serious, determined look with his ever-dedicated lady, Glacia.

She set down an oaken box with a beautifully designed lid, finished in silver trim with the depiction of a mighty, frozen dragon on the front. Its fangs were sharp, its claws regal, like an art piece in one of the many olden scrolls found in temple labraries. Reaching out to touch the simple storage container earned Sirus a bite of cold magic against the fingertips, a thin protective veil humming around its edges.

"It's enchanted," Glacia explained, "it won't open until I put in the key and release the spell."

She removed her necklace chain, the very key she needed hanging beside a tiny travelling pendent of finest silver. Zorus' travel pendant: a gift from her old man. Come chaos or the void, Glacia would never let it go, Sirus knew that much.

"Before I unlock it," Miss Doiteain paused just short of turning the key in the latch lock. "I want to know where you're going on this loony jaunt of yours. What's the plan?"

A simple and fair request.

"Karita mentioned meeting Lady Magissa in Lysidia to hand over the Violet Tear. I'm going to take it while the Parsaani's still resting, and begin on my way: to Ashwood first. Out of all the places on the road to Lysidia, it's the closest. From there I'll lay low for a while, at least until I'm sure Shido isn't following me... and I'll continue the rest of the trek after passing Traders Post."

This way, Sirus could rest assured in knowing he wouldn't drag anyone else into danger, at least. Ashwood was a less than important village. Little more than a tavern as a communal hub, a couple of log mills and a small smattering of townsfolk. Maybe a population of around two-hundred at the very most. An old and traditional place yes, protected by a handful of earth mages from Hara's Order. That made it all the better a place to hide. Nobody of note, save the odd trade caravaneer, ever stopped there.

Quiet. Sleepy. The last place a Ronin of Kai would bother to look.

"Ashwood?" Glacia wore confusion on her sleeve at the idea. "Why take such a long route? Now you have the box back you could just use your grandfather's-"

"That's too risky, Glacie," Sirus waved off her suggestion, "Besides... I haven't used it in years. Not since the Mining Belt. I'll go on foot. It might take me a few weeks but it'll be safer."

"Okay. So long as you'll manage. Let's get this thing open."

With a turn of the key the lock clicked loose. Glacia brought back the lid, peering nervously inside, frowning. She took a deep breath, exhaling before sliding it across to Sirus, still keeping her hold around the sides.

"Having second thoughts?"

Even if he were, it was too late to go back now. Sirus readied himself: took in the gravity of what he was about to do.

"There's no choice."

Glacia relinquished her hold upon the box, giving a stern, drawn-out sigh. "Alright."

Sirus stared down his legacy. Everything that his family had once stood for waited patiently, having been forgotten by the sands of time and the sting of regret. This box had kept it safe - kept it away from sight and mind five years too long. The very thing that threatened magic, that was loathed and feared by this part of the world was now, and once again, his to wield.

A sleek, compact handgun of chrome silver. One of the many pieces within Grandfather Erniz' sizable armory. A parting gift from patriarch and teacher to his grandson before leaving again on a long mission - one to this day he had not returned from. Alongside it sat a small plastic card with a metallic strip down the middle, Sirus' photograph printed on the front.

"Keep calm," Sirus told himself, putting away the card, and eying the gun. He took hold of the dangerous implement by its grip with both hands. "Don't fear it."

His heartbeat thundered. First things first. Remembering the steps. Check the safety was still on, which it was. Good. Second? Eject the magazine with a press of the protective catch at the top of the grip. Done. The ammunition slid out with a gentle tug, the magazine placed down on the bar.

"Hey." Glacia gave him a short hug. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sirus replied, somewhat sobered by the experience. "Takes a moment to sink in."

"It's ironic, Glacia. Weapons like these? They're the reason the Union have won almost every pitched battle against Avalon and her kin for decades now. Might not look it, but this handgun is one of the more basic weapons they have, a simple sidearm for civilian use. And it could easilly kill a dozen mages before they've even finished casting a lone spell."

A pebble in an ocean, its ripples born of destruction: made to deliver quick and brutal suppression if a battle called for it.

Glacia was unmoved by his sentiment: showing not the faintest hint of doubt or distress.

"I'm not afraid, Sirus. They look down on us like dogs from their metal cities... but don't have the same things we do. Heart. Soul. Love. I once killed a Unionist. They're mortal just like us...,"

No way had Sirus forgotten. A band of mage hunters arrived not too far from Grett. They'd brought an Interceptor with them. One of the biggest, baddest bastards in the world. Part machine and part human: a hybrid of technology and science built for one purpose: delivering death. When Glacia broke the news that she'd fought and killed him to protect the villagers, Sirus clung to her all night long, not daring to let her go. Somehow this young woman, small and unassuming, had survived hell itself.

Then there was Karita. Sirus smiled. Most distanced themselves when news of his Union roots came to mind. Not her. She'd asked questions, wanted to know more, treated him with the same kindness. A guilty twinge crawled from the pit of the stomach the more he thought on it.

"Karita asked me if I knew how to use Union tech. I dodged the question. Didn't want her to judge me..."

"She wouldn't do that," Glacia insisted, hands in her lap: calm, confident. "Women's intuition. Yes, I hardly know the girl, but believe me. She wouldn't."

A bold assumption if there ever was one. "What makes you say that?"

"The way she... looks at you."

Sirus gave a chuckle, "You're not making any sense."

Pouting, Glacia held her icy hand against Sirus' cheek. Cold! He flinched, caught off guard as she shot in and stole his lips away. There she held him, overpowered him, her entire body dropping to a deep, consuming freeze. Sirus felt each thump of her heart, the two of them joined in harmony. And he couldn't help but wonder why she'd made such a swift move.

She broke away a moment later, trailing her tongue across the surface of her lips before hopping down from the barstool.

"Of course you wouldn't get it. Dense as always."

Glacia breezed past, making her way to the staircase.

"I'm going to bed. Please remember to say goodbye before you hit the road... to both of us. You have a habit of forgetting your farewells. Not this time, you hear, mister?"

Cold, much? Sirus turned, ready to say something, anything in the way of a retort. But Glacia was already up the stairs and out of sight before he could, her shoes creaking across the wood overhead.

Again he found himself fixated upon the unloaded gun within his hands.

"Long road ahead of me. I just hope I'm ready."

There, across the bar top, sitting beside a large bottle of dusty, cobwebbed wine, sat a piece of paper and pencil. Sirus set down the gun, reaching for them, the booze too. Farewells weren't something of a strength, never had been. Still, if he were to leave like this, to take Karita's responsibility upon his shoulders: he at least had to bid her a proper farewell. Glacia? He could give her another kiss before departing come morning.

The words didn't come as easily as he hoped they would.

Miss Karita. You've done much for me in the short time we've travelled side by side. We've laughed, smiled, and learned plenty about one another. Though short, our time was precious to me, and I see you as a true friend, worthy of respect and admiration. That is why I must take the rest of your journey for you. And also why I must say goodbye.

In the name of all those who have died already, and to keep you safe from harm... I 've left Grett with the Violet Tear. I'll deliver it to Lady Magissa on your behalf. Call this my final gift to you, for saving my life. That said, I couldn't bear seeing you beaten like a dog by that bastard, Shido. It hurt me deeply... and I pray I never have to witness something like that again.

Be angry if you wish for my sudden departure, but least this way, I can be sure won't come to harm twice. And more than that. For once in my life I can move forward knowing I made the right choice: feel as though I did what was best for somebody I care for. It's likely we won't cross paths again for some time, if ever, considering the circumstances.

Worry not about me. Return to Parsaan and see your mother again, as you always wanted. I've left some Silver Looma by your bedside. There should be enough there to cover a skyboat fare and some new clothes. Your doctor's bill's already paid.

I wish you well, Lady Karita. Farus Ashee.

Warmest regards, Sirus Lesat.

It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. Sirus set aside the pencil, folded the paper in half, and grabbed for the wine.

Goodbyes were most assuredly his biggest weakness. The dead weight in his chest, told him that much.

To be continued...


Elania. A world ruled by magic. A world as divided as it is beautiful - where almighty elements and the first who hold them in their hands are still worshipped to this day. Within the industrial port town of Leesia, home to one of the few temples of Eloria, Goddess of Water, lives Sirus Lesat. An Acolyte of Eloria and freelancer, he uses his skills of magic and combat to protect caravans and dazzle pretty girls. However, with the toll of a temple bell, his life will soon change.

Could this be the beginning of something even bigger?

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