Destruction Preventer: Lunar Salvation

Destruction Preventer - Lunar Salvation
Chapter 10 - Recovery

~

He could almost touch him. Almost. He remained at arm's reach. His long blond hair floated in the wind.

"Kain..."

The mage looked at the frail figure on the bed. Over the evening, the boy's fever had shot right up. "Do you know who he is calling to?" he asked to no one in particular.

But he got an answer nonetheless. "I don't know, Dorian... but he's delirious. He might be mistaking you for someone else."

"A man named Kain," Dorian reinforced. "A friend, perhaps?"

But Kain wouldn't budge. He simply stood there, talking to someone else.

"Kain...!"

The Mysidian elder cocked his head. "Hard to believe this is the same knight who attacked us. A child." He knew better than to judge the man based on his looks. Like many others, he had witnessed the dark knight's powers in action. But at this moment, the 'dark' knight was gone. Only a boy, in his late teens or early adult years, writhed on the bed, derelict and in pain.

"What do we do with him?"

"We wait. Try to keep his fever down." The elder shifted. He scanned the frame one last time, and turned towards Dorian. "The villagers must not know this man is in this house. Though he may be responsible for many deaths... he needs our help."

The blond mage nodded. "If I can ask... why is that?"

"Because everyone deserves a second chance." The older man paused. He was on his way to leave the room, when he stopped. "Don't you feel it, Dorian? It's not his time. He's meant for bigger things."

Dorian frowned. The elder's hunches were usually right.

"In the meantime, do as I said and watch over him. I'll calm the villagers. Do not let anyone through."

Slightly confused, Dorian obeyed. As the elder left the room, his blue-gray orbs locked on the pale frame on the bed. Destined to bigger things. What things?

The boy's wide, glassy eyes settled on him. "Kain... I love you..."

~

The elder must have had stayed with the villagers for two hours, if not three. Despite precautions were taken, word of the dark knight's presence had spread. Reassuring his comrades had been a daunting task – no one wanted to see a loved one lost by the man's obsidian blade.

He couldn't blame them.

"They don't listen very well," he stated as he sat down on a chair. For once, the man showed his age. "He must recover fast and proceed further."

Dorian lifted his head from the spellbook he studied. "I can't get his fever down. He'll need more than the damp cloth on his forehead..."

"I see. Draw a cold bath. See if you can get some ice."

The mage's brows quirked. With his efficiency in black magic, ice was an easy request. "That won't be a problem."

"I've got a few more people on our side. Once you're done with the preparations, they can come and carry him to the bathroom."

Dorian shook his head. "I'd rather do that myself. Just to make sure."

~

The boy didn't weigh much, and didn't make a sound as Dorian picked him up and carried him to the next room. Warm skin – too warm, in fact – pressed on his. It was only as they reached the bathroom when Cecil stirred in his arms.

A select few other mages were in the small room as well. Their eyes, focused and unblinking, never left the two figures in the doorway.

They didn't waste their time.

"Careful," warned the elder. "Don't leave him in there too long."

The first seconds went fine. Cecil remained immobile.

Cold. Only cold.

Blue eyes opened in the dimmed light. The cold reached deep into his skin and bones, and paralyzed his lungs. Unable to breath, he began to panic. Screams of sheer terror rose from his throat and bounced off the walls surrounding him.

'I'm drowning again!!'

Limbs flailed in the cold water. He felt imprisoned; something kept him from turning around and going to the surface. Two pair of hands grabbed his arms and legs, keeping him in place.

'They're drowning me...'

And no matter how much he cried for help, no one came.

"Get him out!" The voice had been nothing but a distant, distorted garble.

He was then jerked upwards and finally taken out of the icy water. The hands left him. Dizzy, in a blurry daze, Cecil's legs failed him, but he never hit the ground. He found himself in another man's arms. From the long blond hair, he knew who it was. "... Kain?"

He was dragged across the room and covered with a light, red blanket.

"I thought you..."

"It's alright."

The voice wasn't Kain's.

Cecil's vision slowly came back to normal. He pulled away from the other man and took a long time to assess his features. His blond hair was shorter and lighter than Kain's, and his blue-gray eyes had a light hint of green to it as well. No wonder why he had thought him as someone else...

And the dark blue robes the mage wore didn't help either.

Still recovering from the stress, Cecil took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. He felt weak, confused.

"I... I'm in Mysidia, correct?" he asked, wary.

The man nodded. Beside him, an older man dressed in brown did the same. "You were found by the outskirts. Dorian rescued you." He smiled at the mage, but added, in a lower voice, "... despite everything you've caused here."

These words didn't escape Cecil. Defeated, he let his gaze drop to the stone floor. He had never wanted this to happen. He fought against upcoming tears in his eyes. His throat tightened, his chest heaved. Not wanting to show even more weakness, he took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. "I apologize..." he offered, sincere.

"Apologizing does not bring back the dead, young man." The words had been harsh, but the elder was right.

Cecil fell silent, unable to utter another sentence. Nothing he did, even showing honest remorse, would help the village recover. He had his burden, they had theirs.

And yet, the elder's voice yielded some hope. "But I firmly believe that everyone has the right to a second chance. When you're feeling better, in a day or two, I'll tell you more. For now, Dorian will bring you back to your room where you can rest."

The knight simply nodded back. Emotions held a firm grip on his throat.

~

When he woke up, Cecil was shrouded in darkness. He didn't even recall his falling asleep, yet alone what time it was when he had reached his room.

"You must be hungry," the voice beside him stated. "Here."

Through the dark, he saw Dorian bring a tray of meat and vegetables in front of him.

"Not really," he admitted. He felt queasy and feverish. "Thanks though."

The plate pulled back. "If you need anything, tell me."

Cecil slumped back on the bed and rolled to his side, eyes closed to fight nausea. It didn't help, and within seconds, he was bending over the edge. Bile burned his throat, his last meal long gone. Once his stomach was empty, he fell back. Sweat – and tears – poured down his cheeks.

Now was not the time to get sick. He needed to recover as fast as possible and save his friends.

Dorian's brow quirked in a semi-amused fashion. "Yeah... let's wait a little before you eat."

The knight groaned. He felt like he was about to hurl his own stomach out. On the other hand, the food did smell good... but not good enough for his body to willingly take it.

Cecil shut his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he could sleep it off...

~

This time, Cecil woke up to his own shriek. He sat up in the bed and pushed the covers off. Realization slowly set in – it was only a nightmare. There was no hole in his chest, no spear sticking out of it, no blood, and the best of all, no Kain smirking over his dying frame.

"I'm due for a vacation..." he thought out loud. He batted a loose strand of damp silver hair away from his eyes. "And a haircut."

Until then, Dorian had been reading from a book. The man seemed undisturbed from the screaming, and barely startled by Cecil's mumbling. He turned around in his chair, arm loosely hanging off its back in a casual manner. "Ah, you're awake. Everything okay?."

"I'm fine, I guess. Just a dream." he answered. Blue orbs darted across the room and to the window. The sky was bright red. "Dawn already?"

From his seat, the mage acquiesced. "Feeling better?"

Cecil agreed with a quiet mmmh-hmm. It didn't stop Dorian from getting up and closing the distance between them. The older man pressed his palm against Cecil's forehead.

"Well, your fever's gone. You must be starving by now." He spun around and handed him another plate, filled with sausages, eggs, pancakes and a large side-order of bacon.

"Breakfast of the champions, huh." No way Cecil would say no to it. After two days or so without any food whatsoever, he was ready to eat anything.

Dorian smirked. "You'll need it if you want to recover."

He watched in awe as the smaller boy ate everything in the plate – the meal had originally been meant for the both of them. Dorian had received it about half an hour ago, and was too into his own studies to give it a second look. "Well I'll be damned. How do you fit all of that into your body?"

Cecil shrugged. He always had a big appetite, but his metabolism was quick to process food, as well as to adjust to different diets. The rations on the field were much smaller than that, and he never showed any consequence. "Training requires energy. And if you think I eat a lot, I know someone who out-does me in that department."

The mage smirked. "Would his name be Kain?"

A sad smile grew on the white-haired boy's lips. "Indeed..."

A short, awkward silence settled between the two men. Cecil had never been comfortable with his attraction for the dragoon – knights weren't supposed to be 'pretty', and to top it all, if he displayed affection for another man... Considering his rank in the Baron army, he might have lived it down, yet he kept telling himself he never would.

Dorian noticed the embarrassed blush spreading on the youth's cheeks. It clearly wasn't the time to bring this up. He diverted from the topic. "Aren't you thirsty? With all that food you ate, I would be."

Until then, Cecil had barely noticed how parched he really was. "I am."

"I'll get you a fresh glass of water. Don't move." The blond moved to the front door and gave one more look at the pale frame sitting on the bed, and closed the door behind him.

Once out, he let out a sigh of relief. It didn't go unnoticed... A few meters away, the elder's eyes were set on him. "Don't get too attached to the boy. His heart belongs to someone else," he warned in a whisper.

"That's what I keep telling myself." Dorian sighed again.

"Go get some water. I'll talk to him in the meantime." The elder paused and mulled something over for a moment. There was something he needed to share with someone else before, and Dorian might be the right man.

"If he's feeling better, maybe tomorrow or the day after... he may be the one."

The taller mage quirked a puzzled brow. "The one?"

"He trained in the dark arts, but there's something about him. Some will or desire to fight despite the odds; a light, if you will."

But Dorian still didn't understand. "What are you saying?"

"That he might be able to make it through Mount Ordeals."

Astonished, the young man's jaw dropped. The mountain bore its name well – he had heard of countless men and women who sought to reach its top.

No one ever lived through it to tell the tale, let alone come down from the mountain.

Some believed the path to the top was lined with the travelers' skeletons, while others were told these poor souls became guardians preventing others from climbing all the way up, or monsters feeding on human flesh.

"He's a dark knight, he'll never make it through on his own..."

This time, it was the elder who quirked a brow. "With the right escort, he might pull it off." He watched as Dorian's face lit up, and raised his hand. Stop. "I need you here, and I need someone who can keep something from him... I can't fully trust the boy. Palom and Porom may do the trick for this mission."

"You really think two 5-year-old apprentices can keep an eye on Cecil Harvey?"

The elder waggled a finger in the air and scolded his fellow villager. "Never underestimate anyone. They may be apprentices, but they should manage. If Cecil agrees to climb Mount Ordeals, I'll send them with him."

Reluctantly, Dorian agreed. "Alright. I'll get him a drink before he dries up." This earned him a chortle from the older man.

"And get me the twins while you're at it. I'll talk to them after I'm done with Cecil."

~

The thoughts of taking a vacation had completely vanished out of Cecil's mind. The only thing he wanted to do was to get out of bed and take a walk, duel, find Rosa and Kain... anything to keep his mind off his current state: recovering from near death by drowning.

He was taken out of his half-dazed state by a soft knock on the door. The Mysidian elder poked his salt'n'pepper head inside. "We need to talk," he stated, a bit more serious than he would have liked to sound.

"Of course."

The elder sat down on the chair, eyes set on the lithe frame. "What do you truly desire, Cecil?"

So many answers; between Kain, saving Rosa, defeating Golbez, gathering the Crystals... he didn't know which one to choose. He did the best he could at merging them all together. "Golbez needs to be stopped. I don't know what he's planning with the Crystals, but it's gotten everyone in horrid situations. He turned my best friend into my enemy, holds another as hostage, and I lost three companions when our boat capsized..." Cecil looked away, uneasy.

These vivid, painful memories haunted his mind, and he held himself responsible for every one of them. If he hadn't dragged Rydia into this, or requested Edward's help... they might still be alive today.

The pained look on his face drew the elder's attention. This man had gone through so much in so little time. He couldn't find an ounce of malice in his tired voice - each word spoken was sincere.

"You won't be able to bring an end to Golbez with your dark sword. Darkness cannot defeat darkness."

Cecil's eyes shot up to the elder. Fabul's King had told him the same thing.

"Have you ever heard of Mount Ordeals?" the older man inquired.

Cecil shook his head from left to right. The name wasn't exactly familiar. Obviously, it was a mountain, and judging from the name, it didn't mean anything good.

"Legend goes the mountain grants light and salvation to those worthy. A grave waits on its summit – with its blessing, you will be able to change your dark sword with one of light. In other words, you will become a paladin."

Now that he had heard about. Pure warriors who fought with light on their side. In Baron, they were mostly found in folk tales as extremely powerful knights to look up to, but as he had learned, every folk tale has a bit of truth to it.

"The main problem is that you are a dark knight, thus you cannot accomplish this task on your own. And I must warn you... no one has ever made it back."

Impossible challenge? That was a sign on its own.

"I'll do it. And I'll make it back."

The elder nodded. His faced remained serious. "I'll provide you with two escorts – a healer and a warlock. They will help you ascend Mount Ordeals. Please make sure they come back with you."

"I will," Cecil promised.

"Great. Today, you need to rest and recover. You'll be able to leave tomorrow if you feel ready."

Determined, the boy answered. "And I will be."

This was one task he could not afford to fail. He'd make sure he would succeed. Not only for his own sake, but for the sake of his departed friends, and the ones who needed him to live.

~ To be continued... ~