Scars: Part Nineteen

Soran woke with a silent start, blinking warily at the unfamiliar ceiling above him. Throwing off his dreams like so many nets tossed over his head, he scanned the room and found Sid still where he'd left him, lying on the couch near the window. It had been a long night after the battle, seeing to Sid's wounds and convincing him to sleep. Seeing the normally-optimistic man so crushed by his despair was a first for the elf. Sid's depression hadn't stopped him from making a shameless fuss while Soran treated his wounds, though. It was a long night before they were both able to go to sleep, and even then, Soran kept waking from his dreams.

The rogue was accustomed by now to his haunted visions of the past, but tonight it was different. It wasn't himself he was seeing, but the girl, always in danger, always screaming out to him. He dug his fingers into his hair and thought. She'd been trying to tell him something. Was she in danger? Should he care? He'd always maintained a strict distance from the girl, and firmly rejected any attachments that threatened to develop to her. So why? Why was her face haunting his dreams? He'd learned from his experiences that attachments represented danger. That was the way it had to be in this world. It was foolish to afford to be concerned with anyone but yourself. He thought of how Reya always talked about the "other world", asking questions about forbidden rumors that had somehow reached her ears. A dangerous fascination, but perhaps a justified one.

The elf got to his feet from where he'd been sleeping on the floor and went to Sid, checking him for lingering signs of the fever he'd been dealing with earlier.

"Who'd have thought "Soran Nightblade" would be such an attentive nurse," Sid said, his mouth pulling up into a smirk while his eyes remained closed.

"You're awake."

"Don't feel like sleeping. But really, I'm fine," he said, opening one eye to look up at the rogue. "You've been checking on me all night. Get some sleep."

Soran moved his hand away from Sid's forehead and looked out the window. It would still be several hours before dawn. "It's not that I'm worrying. I just woke up," he said flatly.

Sid grinned and closed his eye again. Soran didn't move, just staring outside.

"…Something you want to talk about?" Sid prodded a minute later after the elf still hadn't left.

"No."

Sid opened his eye again at Soran, who was facing away. "Something about that girl that was with you?"

Silence.

"What was she doing there in the first place? A girlfriend of yours?"

Soran frowned. "She's not…probably. Just a kid who hangs around me when I practice."

"A kid, huh? Looked like quite an attractive woman to me."

"Well not to me," Soran said too forcefully. "She was trying to tell me something."

"It was dangerous here," Sid commented knowingly. Soran wasn't sure he was comfortable with how easily the man was reading his concerns, even if he was completely wrong about his relationship to Reya.

"I'm glad. It's the first time you've told me about anything personal. Sort of a relief, you know?"

Soran's cold eyes shot down to Sid thoughtfully. "I didn't tell you something. You just brought it up on your own."

"If you say so," Sid teased, though emotional exhaustion crouched within his voice.

"What's your excuse?" Soran said, changing the subject. "For being up."

Sid seemed surprised to be asked a personal question by the elf, but looked up at the ceiling and obliged. "Plenty to think about."

"Oh," Soran commented when Sid didn't elaborate, not about to pry.

"I didn't send it this week," Sid said. Soran's eyes queried him blankly. "My report to General Rone, on your status. I wrote about half of it, and chucked it."

Soran blinked. Shock, anger, and confusion battled in his expression, but the result was something closer to pain. He got a mental image of what his face looked like and struggled to make it anything else instead. Of course, Sid had been there to spy on him. He'd known that from the start, but somehow… He stared at Sid speechlessly, trying to hate him, but instead he just felt…numb.

Sid felt guilt stab him as he registered the expression on the elf's face. He'd been convinced by Soran's cold behavior that the rogue never trusted him for an instant, but now the elf seemed…unmistakably hurt. "Listen, Rhen. I didn't just come here to spy on you. It was Rone's one condition to my leaving that I maintain a correspondence with him on your status. The information I give him stays with him, and he gave his word not to try to come after you. I don't know what happened between you, but something seemed wrong with the story that was going around, so I confronted Rone on it. When I heard you weren't dead, I left to find you for my own purposes, alright? Not Rone's."

Soran finally managed to bring his expression into a glare, though it was an empty one. He turned away and returned to his side of the room, sitting down and leaning back into the wall.

"Rhen-"

"Soran."

"…I didn't expect you be upset."

"I'm not. I anticipated this," Soran said stiffly.

"I told you, that's not why I came after you."

"Is that so," the rogue returned coldly.

"I'm serious."

"Go to sleep."

"You're strong-willed, but you also think differently from the rest of us. As fascinating as it makes you to watch, it's dangerous also. No matter how strong you are, acting on values like yours will eventually get you killed," Sid explained sharply.

"You're one of Rone's pet dogs."

"I came to watch out for you, and that's what I've been doing. That's why I'm telling you the situation!"

"It matters very little either way." Soran's voice was so cold that Sid's next retort seemed to freeze in his throat. He hadn't expected this reaction. It made him feel guilty and strangely helpless, like someone who'd just handed over his kid brother to a gang.

Soran stood up again, restless. "Tell the men I'm returning alone. Everyone is to meet at the Boar's Head this evening to discuss last night."

"The sun hasn't risen yet."

"What? Wanted to follow me?" the elf's eyes met Sid's in a challenge for a difficult moment before he left the room.

Sid watched the door close, stunned. He'd just made an irretrievable mistake. He swung his fist sideways into the back of the couch in frustration, making no move to trail him.

Soran's gait was swift and tense as he walked back toward the village. When it came into sight, he headed for the wilderness to the right of it instead, where the ruins were. It was mid-morning when he arrived there, and found the place empty. Part of him had thought the girl might have been there already. Avoiding thought, he went to the clearing in the middle of the ruins, passing among the worn marble walls that jutted haphazardly from the earth. He stopped at their center and stood there calmly, almost regally, like the king of a forgotten dynasty. He was in his element in this place.

Soran was hardly conscious of this as he lowered himself into an attacking stance and threw himself into a vicious form. The familiar weight of the heavy blades on his arms was a release for the rogue, and as he flew full-force through the motions of the form, he was able to take a break from consciously avoiding thoughts of what Sid had told him. He thought only of kicking, spinning, ducking, striking; yet there was a ferocity to his movement that normally only showed during real battles – the ferocity of fighting for survival. He felt it driving him forward, and embraced it. He didn't need Sid. In the back of his mind, he'd always known what was happening. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't betrayed. Betrayal first required trust. What bothered him more was that he caught himself attempting to see past Sid's actions, to find sincerity in his words, when he was no different from everyone else.

A sudden awareness that someone was behind him made him halt and glance backwards. Robed in blue, the girl was there, walking towards him with her usual graceful shyness.

Reya couldn't prevent the faint smile that found its way to her lips as he looked back at her with that entrancing stare. She was relieved to find him safe. Without thinking, she ran the rest of the way to him, jumping over a low wall of stone and jogging to a stop a touch too deep into his personal space. She tipped her head shyly down as he took an involuntary step back.

"You're early."

"So are you," she said almost sadly, raising her eyes to his.

Soran looked her over inconspicuously. She seemed fine. Maybe he'd been thinking about it for nothing. He closed his eyes and turned away, walking to a low wall and sitting down. Reya followed behind him and perched lightly next to him, no longer afraid of him as she was once, but not secure in his presence either. She was safer with him than anywhere else, but was she welcome?

"How is your shoulder?" she asked him.

Soran wouldn't have answered except that the topic seemed to bring a bit of her usual spunk to her eyes. She seemed different from usual today. Subdued.

"It's taken care of," he responded to her for once.

"I can heal it," she offered tentatively.

"It will heal itself," Soran said calmly, looking out across the ruins.

Reya bit back a protest, studying her lap. He seemed different; more distant than the last few days.

"Is everything alright?" Soran asked her unexpectedly. She glanced up to find his green eyes studying her quietly.

"N-no. Yes!" she sputtered. Soran arched an eyebrow at her. "Yes," she clarified, the spirit draining from her voice.

"I see," he said, though her tone seemed strange.

Reya looked up at the sky anxiously. He seemed worried for her. It should have filled her with excitement, but instead she felt her soul slip to the floor. "Soran…have you ever thought about joining the army?"

The rogue's expression chilled. "No."

"You wouldn't, then," she said carefully.

"No," he said, harshness creeping into his tone.

"Do you enjoy living as a rogue? Would you do it your whole life?" She posed the question as carefully as possible, but the elf's gaze still hardened enough to make her flinch.

"I will." His voice was steady, cold.

"But do you want to?" she pushed quickly.

Soran frowned and looked away, not answering. She was more persistent than usual with her strange questions today.

Reya looked away also. She was blinking too much. Even if he wouldn't answer her, she'd been around him enough to understand that he would not be controlled. He would never submit to Tromik's demands. They would kill him.

No, it would be worse. She would kill him. It was too cruel to think about. He'd been betrayed by his parents, and now she would betray him as well.

After the girl seemed to have given up her question, Soran got up and sat down on the sun-warmed ground next to the wall. As strange as she was acting, he was persuaded now that she didn't seem to be in any danger – not that he was worried – and the fact that he hadn't slept last night finally struck his consciousness. Glancing up at Reya, he lay back on the grassy earth and closed his eyes. She made no sound, but he knew she was there. She was the only person he allowed to be there with him. She had been there for so long, quietly reading or watching him day by day, that he no longer gave a second thought to things like drifting off to sleep around her. In fact, only when she was there did he sleep at all. He was keenly aware of how frail the bonds of loyalty were, yet now he found himself accepting this girl.

He didn't analyze the tolerance he extended toward her, or the way her presence calmed him, even on days like this. She was just there, a part of this place. "Why don't you trust me?" she often asked him when he didn't answer her questions. He never answered that one either. As much as he didn't want to admit it, wasn't it obvious he trusted her most? What did it matter whether she knew about his past?

The sun glowed red-orange through his closed lids. He squinted them open slightly as a shadow changed the color from red to black. He saw Reya standing over him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands were posed in front of her, thumbs pressed together and fingers spread out like wings. A warm, heavy tear dropped onto Soran's cheek.

"Reya?" he said warily. "What happened?"

Reya shook her head, a silent sob making her shudder. Soran's eyes narrowed protectively. He moved to sit up, but found his body strangely heavy. He looked down as if expecting ropes to be holding him down, but he was free. A blue light glowed around him, growing steadily stronger. It took a long moment for it to occur to him he was being betrayed. "Reya!" he demanded, throwing all of his effort into climbing to his feet. He clutched her wrist and looked intensely into her eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked her quietly, his voice aching with disbelief as a sense of unnatural exhaustion consumed him. His hand slid off her wrist and he collapsed to the ground, barely able to think. Her image faded as magic forced him into unconsciousness.

oOoOoOoOo

Reya lowered her eyes. It was unbearable to watch. His icy green stare was locked onto her, full of cold emptiness and stern agony. She no longer had the right to look into those eyes. It was her fault, all her fault. Salt stung beneath the bridge of her nose, but she refused to release it. How dare she, when he had not wept – had shown nothing when she let them take him away. She had betrayed him, and as though he had expected it all along, his cold stare was free of blame, making Reya's throat tighten with shame. Even now, hung in irons and brutally beaten, he remained proud and wild. She stared at the floor, cheeks burning, flinching inwardly as she listened to each blow fall.

Soran could see the girl standing at the edge of the room. Her finely braided red hair and smooth, gentle face seemed out of place in this stone chamber full of chains and blades, a scar on its perfect cruelness. Tromik's spiked whip rose and fell, its barbed surface ripping jagged gashes across the elf's back, but the pain had already lost its novelty. He watched the girl solemnly, his vision blurring with each choked cry that escaped him. After what felt like hours, the beating stopped, leaving the rogue's back with more flesh than skin exposed. The blood laced down his waist and legs and ran into his boots. Soran turned his neck to follow Tromik with an icy glare as the man circled around and stood in front of him.

"Well, have anything new to say?" he smiled, tapping the coiled whip against his shoulder cockily.

"I'm not signing my men over. You're wasting your time," the rogue growled. He'd already made his decision.

"Oh, that's such a pity," Tromik said lightly, digging his finger sharply along the length of one of Soran's cuts, "But that's all right. I was rather hoping to use my alternative plan anyway."

Soran looked almost demonic as he glared upward at his captor, long dark hair hanging wildly about his face. "If you kill me, my men will never follow you."

"Of course not. Who said I was going to kill you?" He gestured toward Reya with an eerie grin. "Dashing rogue general, murdered by his secret lover. Quite a headline, isn't it? What a way to go!" He leaned in close to Soran, breathing musky air into the rogue's face. "She's quite a beauty, isn't she? But no matter how she flirted and wooed, she couldn't win your heart. What would you want with the duke's little princess daughter anyway? The great Soran Nightblade thinks only of battle and has no heart to win, so in the heat of the night, when her body is curled up with yours, she is overcome by sorrow and takes your life." His voice grew darker and colder as he continued the story, forcing Reya to clench her fists pensively; his words were too painfully close to reality.

Tromik smirked hatefully and grasped the elf's chin, holding it to face him and leaning in toward his face. "Of course, your men will be overwhelmed with grief at the loss of the prodigy commander who trained and fought with them through countless battles. After all, their loyalty to you is practically legendary. But they will need money, something to live on. They will accept my generous offer to make them part of the Queen's army, and with the skills of the last legendary rogue militia on our side, we will conquer the Other World piece by piece until it is no more."

Soran let this sink in, staring sternly out at the wall. The Other World… His men would be its downfall? He could hardly afford to worry about international politics at a time like this, but still, he was conscious of a sense of disappointment. It seemed like a useless sentiment, but if such a place really existed out there…he wanted to believe it would stay that way. The fire that was his back brought him bitterly back to the present. It was foolish to have gotten into this situation. The girl had intrigued him with her lightness, her playful, gentle way, but he had allowed himself to get too close. If his men only knew, he thought, they would never let him hear the end of it. He saw no way out, except to somehow survive.

"Reya, it's time," Tromik purred, and she slowly came to his side, dagger in hand, and stood facing Soran. Gradually, she raised her blue eyes to look into his beautiful face. It was empty of expression, as always. 'Of course, why would he open himself to me now?' she thought. Remembering her purpose, she tightened her grip on the weapon, wishing she'd never gotten herself into this. Behind his icy green eyes, he was different from her, from everyone in the Queen's kingdom. "You should have been born in Kristoa," she whispered sadly, placing a gentle kiss on his bloodied lips as she drove the dagger into his waist.

Soran winced, choking out a pained gasp as he felt the cold steel inside him. Everything took on a reddish tint and the world began darkening around him. Her betrayal stabbed him almost as deeply as the dagger. 'How could she…Why?' The questions burned in his mind. This was the true face of the world? Every meaningful relationship ripped apart by betrayal, every extension of trust a masochistic folly? Never before had he felt so jaded and hopeless.

"Damn…you," he whispered before collapsing entirely into blackness, his body hanging limply from the chain.

Reya bit back tears. 'I had no choice!'

"Well done, dear. Queen Nagola will surely recognize you for your loyalty," Tromik praised venomously as two large soldiers entered the room. "Dispose of the body," he ordered them, and turned back to Reya. "Then we'll announce the murder, and you'll be made a hero for bringing the rogues down."

"Understood," Reya said emotionlessly as the men unclipped the manacles from Soran's hands and let his body fall to the ground. Without much effort, they hoisted the elf's lean form up and walked to the tunnel entrance to the chamber, a secret corridor that surfaced in the forest outside the village.

"Well, my lady," Tromik smiled when they were alone in the room, "How shall we celebrate? Or are you still angry with me?"

"I'll admit this is for the best," Reya said, her mouth pulling up into a slight grin as her eyes met his. "I wish to celebrate with you, as soon as my stomach settles. My training hasn't accustomed me to seeing this much blood."

"Very well. Rest first, and we will enjoy our good fortune later," he said seductively, looping one arm low around her waist and drawing her towards him."

"Then I will retire to my quarters briefly, and perhaps change into something more…appropriate," she said in a shy, but sultry voice, fingering a button on the front of his shirt.

"By all means," Tromik smirked, releasing her. He noted the sensual spark in her eyes with satisfaction as she turned and left the chamber.

Reya strolled down the wide hallway of her home and up the staircase to her room. She stepped inside and closed the door, resting her head against it as it locked. She closed her eyes, feeling the inevitable sting grow in her eyes and throat, but fought it back. If she was going to move up in the Queen's ranks of sorcerers, she needed to get through this. She would even tolerate Tromik's affection, if it was only for a short time. The politics of power horrified her, but though her skills were top-notch, a rare opportunity like this was the only chance she had of making a name for herself. She placed a hand over her mouth, suddenly ready to vomit. What was she doing? If Soran were with her, he probably would have told her to forget politics and expectations, and do what she felt. If she could have spoken to him the night before, surely… But she hadn't, and only he could make that kind of thinking sound sane.

Still, she wasn't about to completely submit to the system. She turned from the door and went to her desk, where a large spellbook intended for sorcerers three times her level lay open to a dog-eared page. She had studied the spell for hours after she returned the night before, but still she read through it hastily one more time before taking a deep breath and pulling a rope out of its hiding place in her drawer. A second spellbook lay beneath the first, but she did not need to review that one. The spell had caught her eye a long time ago, and though she'd never had a purpose to try it, she felt almost sure she could perform it without a hitch. She cleared her head and prepared herself; there wasn't much time.

Fastening the rope to her bedpost, she climbed out the window and lowered herself precariously down into the yard outside, then held her hands in front of her and concentrated hard on locating the magical signature of the spell she had used to enchant the dagger that stabbed Soran. It was a weak spell, to be certain, but it was her own magic, and therefore she would be able to sense it if he was close enough. Luckily, he was. She spun to the left and ran toward the area where she sensed the magical aura, following it deep into the woods until she felt she must be on top of it. She looked around in confusion; he should have been there.

She continued a few more yards through the underbrush, where she discovered a rocky ravine that might once have been a riverbed, but was now dry as sand. A still form lay sprawled at the base of the ravine. Her pulse went cold. She had enchanted the dagger with a weak healing ability that should have kept the rogue from dying from its strike, but she hadn't counted on Tromik's goons dealing him additional damage afterwards.

Taking a quick look around to make sure the two soldiers had left the scene, she scrambled down the steep embankment and half-tumbled to Soran's side. He was lying face-down, and she couldn't tell if he was breathing. Rearranging his arms, she managed to pull him onto his back, accidentally slicing her hand on one of his armblades as she did so. She ignored it and checked his pulse quickly. With a sigh of relief, she discovered it to be faint, but regular. The elf was terribly pale, and his chest barely moved with his breath. She examined the place on the left side of his waist where she had stabbed him. Blood drenched his stomach, making it hard to see, but the wound appeared to have almost finished closing. His back was another story, but she couldn't afford to heal it. She needed all of her energy for what she was about to do.

The elf's breath caught for an instant, his face creasing with pain. It seemed like he would wake up, but he fell still again, sweat shining on his brow. Reya watched his suffering with a guilty sigh. It had been the only way to save him, she insisted to herself. His ideals would have only destroyed him eventually. There was one last thing she had to do, and she dreaded it even more than she'd dreaded stabbing him. "You really don't belong here," she whispered unhappily, almost bitterly, "I can't live like you. This will be my last foolish deed." She mentally retraced the steps for the complex spell she had studied the night before. A teleportation spell. It was extremely rare to perform such a spell, but Reya believed she had enough potential to cast it. The catch was that the spell normally required a vivid mental image of the intended destination. Reya had no such image. She had only a vague awareness; a concept, an ideal. The Other World. If it even existed at all… She had to take the chance.

But even if she sent him there, knowing him, he would not be able to accept the existence of a refugee. He would not leave his militia to be absorbed into the Queen's army. He would find a way to get back, because that was the reckless way he chose to live. That was why…why…

Reya reminded herself to stay composed as she readied herself for a different spell; one that would seal his memories of everything but practical knowledge, so that if he recovered, he would never return to Queen Nagola's territory again. If he was to start a new life, he would need to be free of his memories of his militia, his captors, himself, and…of her. The tears finally flowed freely down her cheeks as she held both hands out above his face and closed her eyes, weaving together strands of magical energy that glowed blue around her fingertips. When the weave was complete, she opened her hands, directing the spell toward Soran. The blue light glowed around his head for several moments, slowly evolving to purple, then red, and finally fading altogether. And with that easy motion, his memory was gone.

Reya felt the strength drain from her legs and sank to her knees. The powerful spell had drained her more than she expected. Every mind was different, but Soran's had fought her magic every inch of the way, violently resisting her intrusion. If not for his wounds, she may not have succeeded at all, but once her power broke through his defenses, the spell ran its course freely. She tried to regain her composure, swiping at her eyes tiredly. This was bad. She had used too much energy already; the other spell would take far more to execute properly. Nonetheless, she didn't have much of a choice, now. There was no time.

Kneeling next to him, Reya held her arms straight out over Soran, palms down. She took a deep breath, and began summoning energy from within her, slowly collecting like snow around her hands. Slowly, slowly her hands parted and spread wide to her sides, turning up toward the sky. She inclined her head upward and began the incantation, more and more power surrounding her until her entire arms glowed too brightly to be seen. Finally, she felt the power reach its peak, almost losing track of her place in the incantation as her hands closed tightly and the light condensed into her palms. She released her hands, and two balls of light flew forward over the rogue and began spinning around his still form, faster and faster until a shield of blue light surrounded him.

With a sudden yelp of surprise, Reya's arms curled into her chest. A dart of pain had come and gone in her chest, warning her that she was using too much energy. The shield flickered haphazardly. No, she was almost there! Thrusting her hands back out, she shouted the final words of the incantation, and a flash of light left her blinded. When the air cleared, he was gone. Soran was gone.

Reya rose back to her feet dizzily, barely able to stand after all the energy she had put into the spell. She stared at the rocky ground, dazed and lost. He was free. What was she to do now? Suddenly she could care less when she got back to the mansion, or what Tromik thought of her. Not yet…she would return to that life, she would be part of that world, but…not yet. Her legs began moving, taking her anywhere, anywhere but there. At length, a familiar scene greeted her as she stepped out among proud slabs of white stone, glowing pink in the moonlight. The ruins of the old temple seemed different to her tonight; magisterial, and tragic. A shadow played over the pale stones, and for a cruel moment, she mistook it for him, standing there fighting alone against enemies only he could see. She would always remember him that way, wild and strong. All he would have to remember her by, she regretted, was his scars. With a full mind, she turned and slowly walked away from that forgotten place, which now held meaning only to her.

Finé

oOoOoOoOo

To all those who bore with this story all the way to its conclusion, thank you so much! Please let me know your thoughts on the ending; be honest, because I'd like to rework it if it doesn't feel conclusive enough, though the end result must stay the same. As the ending probably suggests, yup, there will be a sequel! I won't be starting it for a bit, but you definitely haven't seen the last of Soran : )

Gratefully,

Katherine Daystar