Story:Kings of Strife/Part 7

Part Seven
"Maria. Maria!" Once again Silverius awoke Maria, and she awoke quicker than the last time. Her tired eyes squinted at the small cabin’s ceiling light and searched for a reason to be awake. Silverius was fully clothed and his meager possessions were packed into his backpack. He spoke to her with his hand outstretched to help her off her bed. Early sunlight beamed on his olive skin and dark clothes.

"We're here. Come on, it's time to go." She rubbed her eyes with her left hand and took his grip with her right. Once standing, she stretched and yawned out her weariness before awkwardly hugging herself as Crono took all of his meager possessions from the room. Her clothes were still slightly damp from her vigorous wash of them just a few hours earlier. She had refused to wear them until every drop of blood was gone from her sight and smell.

Crono nudged her and she looked up with wide, fearful eyes. "C'mon already. Let's hurry." He left the room and locked the door behind him as she followed. The two silently went up to the upper deck of the airship, Crono occasionally making backwards glances at her. They looked filled with... concern? That probably wasn’t it, but she couldn’t decipher what exactly the man before her felt. Maria looked away and refused to make eye contact. She was a murderer. He should be concerned with himself, in case she snapped again. Her thoughts led back to the night before. "It wasn't your fault! Nobody blames you for anything! You saved us!" His remarks had come from frustration, no doubt. He was tired of rooming with a miserable woman who sat in bed and refused to eat.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she had replied. He was just a mercenary who had found her somewhere, there was nothing connecting those two. But then she remembered that she didn't even know anything about herself. Where did she come from? Why was she wandering the world with this man? Nothing made sense anymore. ''“All I want is to go home. Do I have a home? Is someone waiting for me?”'' He didn’t have anything to say to that, which was why she was able to fall asleep. Now, she just hoped that Crono wouldn’t mention their argument; if he could forget it, she would be glad to.

Silverius stood looking at her as the two rode the elevator to the top deck of the airship. There was much for him to ponder to himself. “She's not a killer... Maybe she'll be alright after I take her home. She could find help. Settle down. Be normal.” He caught himself in his reverie… there was definitely evidence that he was getting too attached to her. Again. “Dammit. Just take her home and let her live her life already. I can’t let myself feel anything for her.” His hand unconsciously stroked the pouch on his waist, underneath his coat, where he keep the Crystal. He found himself doing that more and more often lately.

The elevator door opened and Crono stepped out, Maria in tow. Their discharge was quick and simple. Now the two were in the country of Norzaven, which was, unlike the massive mainland nation of Inusia, a group of two arctic islands at the farthest north of the world. The southern and smaller island, aptingly named South Norzaven, had somewhat tolerable weather with a fair amount of snow in the winter, and housed basically all of the population between the two landmasses. The northern island was frigid and inhospitable, but held a respectable amount of raw resources. Various wars had been fought over the territory in the past.

Crono walked leisurely in the brisk urban city once the two were free of boarding hassles. Sumfate City, capital of South Norzaven and on its southernmost, was an architectural and technologically advanced city. It boasted various marvels and wonders of the world that couldn’t be seen anywhere else. But the two weren't there to see the sights. “I need more information before I can do anything else with this girl, and this is the only place I can get it.” He found his hand gravitating towards the Crystal once again, and stopped himself.

It was becoming a habit that worried him.

The two arrived at their destination after about an hour of walking. Crono turned to Maria briefly. "Know what this place is,” he asked, while pointing a thumb at the building before them. It was a wide and tall structure that rose at least three stories into the air, and a circular dome took over the circumference of the top. She shook her head negatively. “Right. It’s called the Great Datalog. Known throughout the world for having all information known to man. If there's anything for me to find out about where you belong, we'll find it here." Crono turned towards Maria, taking her hands into his and looking into her eyes again. She didn’t match his gaze. "I'll take you home. Alright?"

Her eyes lit for a split second before returning to their dull luster. She turned away from him and left his grip, starting towards the Datalog by herself. Crono looked after her for a moment, incomprehensible emotions flooding his brain. “Is it me? Is it because I couldn't do anything until she had to fight herself? Why do I feel so... ashamed?” She began to walk and he continued after her, his left hand lifting up the sleeve of his right one as he walked. “Silverius, you idiot. Stop caring. Just take her home. It's not my fault.”

Still, something nagged at him every time he looked to her. Not pity, not this time. Guilt? Perhaps. It fluttered in his stomach, nagging at the back of his mind. It took about an hour of searching the archives along with her at his side to realize that he cared. He felt sorry for her tragedy, he felt at fault for all the things she’d witnessed, he wanted to help her. It was none of his business, but he realized that he wanted it to be.

“Another bad habit.”

****

Maria sat by herself in the gigantic library hub. Crono had long since left her to go find out something or other – she hadn’t been paying much attention. For some reason, he had been especially close to her lately, so this sudden separation was daunting. It was good for her to have some time to herself, really. There was a lot to think about.

“Just who was that girl with the red? What happened to me back there? What’s wrong with me…?” Maria sighed and idly flipped through a large book that sat in front of her. There really wasn’t much for her to explore or read about. “I don’t remember a thing before he found me. Just… fire.” For a moment she stared blankly into the pages of the book before an idea came to mind. “Fire!”

“What if fire had something to do with where I’m from? What if my home was burned and I barely escaped with my life?” That would explain why she had awoken with so few clothes and why she was so dirty, but opened even more questions. Regardless, she searched the census book on recently destroyed villages and towns, specifically by arson.

Implying that the library was very up to date, and that Crono hadn't lied to her, the year was currently 2976 of the Kuronian Era. Eight years after the Nnonean Civil War, the last major conflict of note in the world. So it was a bit of a shock to Maria when the first and most recent village burning she found took place in the town of Origania, near the Aquari Mountain range in southern Inusia, in 2974 KE. She read the passage over and over again, praying that she was simply reading it incorrectly.

''Origania, of the Principality's Kingdom of Inusia, in the autumn of 2974 Kuronian Era. A small village of 4,500 or so. Mainly produced textiles and pottery with a sizable agriculture presence. Burned without a trace over the course of a night. Investigation yielded nothing, no survivors, no evidence, no trace left behind. Case put on hold indefinitely.''

How could this be? “Two years ago... It feels like it was just yesterday! Where have I been? Why don't I remember two years?” She put her head in her hands. More answers bred more questions. And if this Origania was indeed her home village, it must have been long gone. The investigation into the fire wasn't even taking place anymore. Where did she have to go now? Once again she felt numb and empty. Is this where despair should have set in? Without a home, should she be terribly sad, or happy that she could spend more time with Crono? Did he even want her around?

Harsh, purposeful footsteps rang on the hardwood floor of the library and grabbed Maria’s attention. She was alone in this area before now, and thus she looked towards the origin of the noise to see their origin. Crono was walking towards her with a peaceful look, but his stride betrayed his face. Something was wrong. She shamefully closed the book in front of her before he arrived and opened his mouth to speak with her. She spoke first.

"Crono? Do you still...” She stopped herself. Now was not the time to ask about that. “Um… did you find what you need? Ah!" She started when he grabbed her arm and started walking towards the direction of the entrance.

"Oh yes, all good. I've found exactly what I need." He spoke unusually loud, and then dipped his head close to her ear as he whispered. "We're being followed. Don’t let on that you know, alright? Just follow me and I'll take care of it." He then let go of her and looked up, continuing to walk with his eyes forward. He embodied confidence and strength in that moment.

Maria tried to look forward like him, attempting to don a mask of bravado herself, but tempestuous thoughts weakened her efforts. “He hasn’t given me orders like that since the man in Troia. Could he have followed us? I must be strong, strong like Crono.” Her hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly in her attempt to steady herself. “I should feel reassured. He’ll protect me, right? Of course he will. I should be confident in him.”

Now they neared the exit of the Datalog. Maria Zorphan looked behind her, her hands now curling a long strand of her hair. It’s combed straightness had worn off days ago.

Alarmingly, one man stood out from the usual throng of people crowding the location, a man with blond hair and a green jacket that sported a red hood that he was currently wearing over his head. He held a sword sheath in his hand and was obviously looking straight at them. She flinched when she saw that his eyes were an unusual shade of red and seemed to look coldly at her very soul. “Impossible…!” She hesitantly looked back forward and continued to leave the place with Crono. “Crono, he’s –“

“I told you not to look back, dammit. Stay calm.”

It didn't take long for them to leave the Great Datalog behind, although its towering frame still loomed in the sky behind them. The city's icy breeze chilled Maria, and she rubbed her arms with her hands. The cloak she wore no longer gave much protection against the cold, at least not in this arctic climate.

After about ten minutes, she bumped into Crono's back as he suddenly stopped walking. He turned around with a critical eye towards the direction they came from, and she instinctively knew what he was looking at. The midmorning sun peeked out from chilly clouds and a gray sky to dowse the city in translucent rays, brightening the deserted alley that they stood in. No other person was in attendance for a good distance around; if a fight erupted, there would be nobody around to call for help. He must have planned that, Maria thought.

"What are you following us for? Who are you, and what do you want?" Crono's face was taunt and serious as he looked onto their pursuer. Crono let one hand sit in one of his jacket's pockets, and the other held his sword sheath with a secure grip. The pursuer grinned at the two from under his hood with menacing intent. His red eyes looked out from the shadow of the hood.

"You two sure get around quickly. It's a wonder you got out of Inusia...you must be quite experienced in smuggling, aren't you, Mr. Silverius?" The pursuer’s voice was quiet and looked effortless; his throat barely moved with each syllable. Maria noted something about him was odd. His detached body language, the unusually still way he stood, his sickeningly sweet and rehearsed mannerisms... Nothing about this man seemed natural. The only part of his skin that was readily available for observation were his exceedingly skinny legs that extended from his beige cargo shorts. His legs were pale and shone with an unhealthy luster.

Crono seemed surprised that he knew his name and recent history. "What do you know about me, huh? Answer me!" He grew frustrated and drew his gunblade from his waist strap. Maria gasped softly and drew back further behind him. She hadn’t been expecting him to arm himself so quickly. Crono didn't aim his blade at the man just yet, but he held it comfortably off to the side and cocked the hammer of its shooting mechanism noisily. Their follower didn't budge but for his eyes that followed the blade with an animal curiosity. Crono looked at him with unease.

"I'm not your enemy. There is no reason to attack me. I personally think you should save your energy for self-preservation, maybe make your movements less obvious...?" He looked up into Crono's eyes for the first time, and Crono was caught off guard by the gaze. His red just seemed... unearthly. The man chuckled and blinked his eyes away. Crono looked at him, confused. "What I'm trying to say is that people are watching you. If you don't have the good sense to at least hide when you've captured the flag, you don't deserve to hold on to it."

He looked into Maria's eyes this time. She didn’t shudder or flinch again, but was inwardly shaken. The more she thought about it, the more she was completely sure that they were identical to the eyes of the girl in her dreams. Both of them held an unnerving gaze that never seemed to let up. Crono tightly gripped his sword hard enough that his knuckles turned white.

Finally the pursuer spoke his demands. "Give me the Crystal. I'll make do with it much better than you will."

Crono brandished his sword in front of him and stepped in front of Maria. His visual target lost, the man in the green jacket instead glared at Silverius. Taking no ipportunines to be further unnerved, Silverius spoke. "How do you even know about the Crystal? Who are you?” Maria found herself lost; what was this crystal that the two spoke of? “There’s not a damn chance that I’m giving this to you. I don't want to fight, but if you don't leave us alone -"

The man in green cut Crono off with a voice much louder than before, yet with the same steady and calculated tone. "Give me the Crystal, or I will cut your stomach and drag out your entrails." Stunned silence resounded in the alleyway. Crono decidedly frowned and finally aimed his gunblade at the hooded man, ready to aim and fire. He chuckled. "The choice is made. Your fate is sealed." The hooded man slowly removed his right hand from his pocket and rested it on the handle of his sword. A subdued sheen was heard as he removed his katana from its sheath. Crono didn't budge.

Maria's thoughts raced. “Should Silverius be fighting again? His wounds haven’t healed… What if he dies? Should I help him?” Crono seemed to have none of this inner turbulence. He readied his sword in steeled preparation, and his enemy did so as well. The hooded man tossed his sheath to the floor and held his sword in a casual stance with one hand in his pocket. After a moment of silent confrontation, the hooded man moved slightly, as if poised to strike. A gunshot banged through Maria's ear drums as Crono shot the hooded man. He stumbled backwards from the assault, not grunting or even touching his wound. Blood spilled from the shoulder wound, not profusely but freely. "Ouch." The expression of pain was given in a mocking tone, as if to poke fun at the blast, and he started walking towards Crono without missing a beat.

Crono grit his teeth. "Get back, Maria." He shot the man three more times before he arrived at a point in which it was too close to fight with bullets, to which Silverius responded by pulled his blade back and parrying the slash given by the hooded man. Something clicked into place in Silverius’ conscience - the bullets didn't faze this man, he walked with an unnatural swagger, and he fought well and strongly with a sword. He spat out his thoughts at his enemy through grated teeth. "What do you have to do with the Crimson Death? Is it you?"

The hooded man chuckled as he lazily slashed at Crono. The attacks were consistently blocked and parried and the two stood locked in battle. "Who, Mister Taoris? No, I don't affiliate with him. Too crude of a man, I think." He stepped back and leisurely waved his sword around. "I'm sure you'll find that my... pain threshold level is different from his. And for different reasons." He returned to the fray, attacking with a newfound viciousness. Before, Crono kept up with the man from basic attacks; now he found himself reasonably challenged. The attacks quickened and intensified.

Crono felt an opening a minute into the clash. The bullet wounds that the hooded man took seemed to slow him down for an instant, not from pain but from sheer limits of his body. Thus the man’s katana slowed by a millisecond, but that was enough; Crono twisted out of the way from the slash and planted his feet on the ground. Both of his hands gripped his gunblade as he drove it into the hooded man's torso and slashed upwards, cutting his stomach and a large part of his side torso clean open. The man's jacket snapped open and he twisted to a nearby wall of a building, blood splashing around him and some getting on Crono's boots.

Maria stared with wide open eyes and stepped back, her hands cupped around her mouth in an attempt to prevent sickness. She stared at the hooded man with morbid curiosity as he grunted and struggled on the ground, dark red blood spilling over his legs and the surrounding floor. He obviously wasn’t dead. In fact, it looked as if he was trying to get up. Without a word, Crono aimed his gunblade at him and shot the man three more times in the chest. More blood was spilled, and he fell back on his butt on the floor. Not once did he scream or cry in pain - it was almost as if the wounds inconvenienced him, not hurt him.

Crono looked at him with disgust. "What... What are you?" He lowered his blade. There was no point in wasting more bullets on the man, not when they were more expensive in Norzaven then they were in Inusia.

Despite his wounds, the hooded man chuckled, but blood spilled from his mouth and obscured his efforts to speak for a moment. His legs continued to weirdly twitch and push him against the wall. "I've failed, but I'll be back. You haven't stopped me. I'm not what I seem, am I? Hahaha!" His voice was a notch higher than before, and depicted amusement and inevitability rather than the agony it logically should. But the lack of emotion never once changed. Crono backed towards Maria and sheathed his blade, never once letting his eyes leave the man.

"Come on, Maria. Let's get out of here.” She didn’t move, and he roughly grabbed her hand. “I said come on! It's time to go!" She looked at him with eyes wide with fear, yet didn't resist his touch. Horror and disbelief guided her hands and she grabbed at his as the two left the alley. For a few minutes, they could still hear the wounded man's laughs and taunts even as they left.

"You can run, but I will find you! I see all, I watch all! I will always observe. Always observing! Do try not to be so conspicuous, hahaha!"

****

Even in the dark common room in the inn, Maria could still see the blood on Crono's boots. She'd been staring at them the whole time, even as they ran from the battle. He cleaned his sword and washed his hands many times over, but the hooded man's blood was still on his boots. Beneath his attention, apparently, but still noticeable and disturbing to her.

Now the two were eating at some almost empty inn late at night. Crono had insisted upon wandering around the city for a few hours after sunset before they were to settle at an inn. It was to remove the chance of being followed, he had said. It sort of made sense, but it didn't really clarify anything for her - who was still following them, and why? Surely the hooded pursuer couldn’t get up and walk after them. After the earlier incident, she could understand his paranoia, but she couldn't quite understand what was so tantalizing about the two.

Not much had been said between the two since the bloodshed. As usual, Crono had been calm, confident, and collected, leading her wherever they needed. She knew he had money, could hear it in his pockets sometimes, but he still bought the cheapest inn he could find that wasn't falling down around them. Was he still being paranoid, or was he just cheap? I really don't know anything about this man, she had realized. And that was an observation that she really couldn’t wrap her head around.

Maria looked away from him now as she absentmindedly bit into a strip of hard, salted meat. He was looking down, detached. She had so much to ask him, but something held her breath in her throat - was it fear? Was she afraid of him? It made sense, she figured. He had tried to kill a man a few hours ago. It was in self-defense, sure, but who decided that the pursuer had to die? Why not just call the police? More importantly… why didn't that man die?

"You say something?" Crono's hoarse baritone drew her eyes to him, confused. She silently shook her head but didn't move her gaze from his eyes. "Alright then." He nodded to her slowly emptying plate of cold meat and biscuits. "Eat up. We're going out to find out about that village you found in the morning." He looked back down to his food, and once again Maria could see the dark bags beneath his eyes. How long had it been by then, she wondered. Silverius hadn’t slept a moment yet. Surely he was tired, exhausted even. Not physically, perhaps not mentally, but probably both. She kept staring until he looked up again, at which point she blushed and looked down.

The next words tumbled from her mouth. "You... you killed someone. You tried to. Why did he have to die? We just left him there..." She put her hands over her mouth. This was not what she wanted to discuss at the dinner table, or any table to be exact. Apparently Crono didn't get that message, for his reply was laced with such scorn and aggression that her face reddened.

"He attacked us. You saw it, you were there. It happened so fast…” Crono’s voice cracked and he dropped his eating utensil to hold his head in his hands. “If I didn't kill him, he would have killed us." He faltered at the word kill, but kept his voice low. He refused to make eye contact with her, but his eyebrows arched downwards. Rage, fear? Was he mad at her, or himself? Maria's lack of vision in the field was once again a hindrance. She didn't know how to respond to him lashing out, and her mouth opened and closed once before she formulated an answer.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to ask, but I... It's just too much for me to take… Y-you…" It was irritating how frequently she was beginning to stutter. Did this mean that her very speech was weakening? What kind of person was she becoming? “…When was the last time you slept?”

Crono cut her off, finally looking up and snapping a response in her face. "Save it. I don't need your pity, alright?! I don’t need to sleep. I told you before, I’m fine.” His hands began to shake. “…At least you didn't know you killed them, you know. You didn't actually do it." Although the words displayed clearly his weakness and how shaken he was, they were still coated in spite and dripping with anger. Silverius regretted the spiteful words as soon as he said them and looked down to the ground in shame. He knew he had hurt her, and he could see it, as well.

Maria Zorphan pushed her plate away and began to stand up. He wanted to reach out, to apologize, but he didn't. He couldn't. Something held him back.

"...I'll be in the room. Good night..." She sniffled as she left, and resented th action. She was weak, and now she was sure they both knew it and hated it. They both hated her. According to her, Crono was not in fact resenting his weaknesses, but hers. Maria was the problem. She had to change, or at least she felt she had to. She questioned herself as she climbed the stairs. “I have no home and nowhere to go. He’s the only thing that I can hold onto… And he hates me. If I don’t change… he might leave me somewhere and abandon me.”

For some reason, the thought of being separated from Crono filled her chest with a crushing pain. Idly, her hands reached into a pocket of her blouse and fingered the sharp comb that he had gifted to her. Why did she still have it, and why did that mercenary matter so much? Once again, she found herself void of any and all answers.

...End of Part Seven.

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