BU - RE - SU

By Tenshi no Ai

(C) Square Enix

I. -Freeze-

-0-

Araguay Woods was unusually quiet this morning, with nary a juravis around to belt out their squeaky mating call and ruin the atmosphere. Shafts of sunlight poured through the thin canopy, forcing the skeletal monsters and their ghostly brethren to hide in the same holes tree spirits and morbols uprooted from once they matured. It promised to be another humid summer day, so the plant-like creatures were digging their roots into the cooler areas of the forest, imitating the more inactive undergrowth around them. The flocks of chocobos native to the forest temporarily migrated to nearby Zirekile Falls, taking advantage of their large numbers to bully their way through the squid men that inhabited the waterfall. Following the chocobos' lead, the goblins decided to vacation in Sweegy Woods, which had a very lovely swamp and a thicker canopy to block out the sun.

With the monsters gone or in hiding, the humans moved in.

Ramza Beoulve and his cranky, irritable and miserable band stormed through the forest, intent on reaching Dorter before yet another group of monsters or bandits accosted them. They were trying to reach Igros, due to what Meliadoul Tingel had told them about the zodiac stone given to Dycedarg Beoulve, but their journey had been interrupted every single day. First, there was the matter of sneaking out of Limberry Castle before someone recognized Ramza and tried to collect on the hefty bounty on his head. Then there was Dolbodar Swamp and those archers that were intent on making pincushions out of the party. Then they had to sneak around Bethla Garrison lest they be thrown into the dungeons by the Nanten, who wouldn't have taken kindly to seeing Cidolfas Orlandu, who had supposedly assassinated Duke Goltana before being executed by Delita. Explaining Thundergod Cid's speedy recovery from death might have been possible, but not a good idea. And then there was Zirekile Falls. No one, not even eternally optimistic Ramza, would've ever claimed that crossing the steep waterfall while being attacked by the local wildlife was a fun little diversion. He did try to claim it was good training though, and no one was ever going to tell him who had kicked him into the water. Thank God this leg of their journey was ending, they all--except for Mustadio, the atheist--thought, before hurriedly knocking on wood just in case they had cursed themselves.

During the course of the last several days, Beowulf Kadmus had gotten himself pushed back to back guard. He wasn't sure how this happened, but the fact that it had happened was troubling to the former Temple Knight. No one wanted to be the back guard, because that meant having to watch out for ambushes. It also meant that he had to watch his own back, which he was more inclined to do since his back happened to be very valuable to him. However, he wasn't too worried about his newfound job; as a hunter he had learned to gauge the 'rhythm' of the landscape. Though, there was another in their group who was far more attuned to such a thing than he.

A smile crept up on his face as he gazed at his lover. Reis Dular was in the center of the party, her back to him, the length of her dark blond hair swaying as she walked. From the gap between Rafa and Malak Galthana he could see that even she looked tired as her hands were limp instead of holding up her voluminous skirts; a wilted flower, he supposed. That was too bad. He would have to do something to brighten her spirits once they arrived in Dorter. But what should he do? Flowers were cliché. He was already paying for their meals in town, and watching the love of his life devour the thickest and rarest cuts of meat in the space of one meal was slightly...distressing to him. She hated sweets. Well, maybe flowers weren't so bad, on second thought...

To say that he was distracted would be an understatement.

It barely registered in his mind when she jerked her head towards the canopy, but then the blur was hurtling down from the trees and he was tugging out his Rune Blade from its scabbard. As Reis stumbled back from the downward slash from what appeared to be a renegade kunoichi, as everyone else was just now turning around, he was focusing the arcane energies of the Magic Sword, twining the threads of energy into a particularly devious spell. He was ready, even though he hated to use this curse. It was cruel and he hated to be cruel, especially after those days...

He froze.

The female ninja's other sword flew up in a beautiful arc, blood spraying in its wake. Without a sound, Reis fell. Seeing this, something hot and heavy lit in the pit of his stomach.

It was his fault.

His spell, amplified by the surge of emotion, did not so much as seep through the kunoichi as it tore through her, blasting away her bravery and cruelly transforming her into the shape that now defined her new cowardice: a chicken. The ghostly image of an asymmetrical sword thrust up through her body at the Divine Knight's bidding, striking one of her fallen swords and causing shrapnel to fly into her unprotected body. Her death cry was human, forced through the vocal cords of a fowl.

The Heretic's Scream. How many times had he elicited that same scream from those the Church called heretics?

By this time the party was besieged by an entire ninja clan, darkly clothed and ready to avenge their fallen comrade. The battle ended as quickly and as painfully as possible, with misdirected lightning slamming repeatedly through one ninja before a gunshot ended his torment while Holy Explosions from two sides ripped through three others. By the time Ramza administered the coup de grace on the last ninja, Reis was on her knees, blood dribbling over the backs of her hands as she tried to cover her chest wound. Beowulf could only stare as others rushed forward. One slightly oily rag later and the wound was cleaned, revealing an almost artistic cut that was already healing with the aid of a potion.

Why did I stop? he asked himself. Her life was at stake! It shouldn't matter what I do to save her. Even if I hate it, I've done worse. God knows I have.

I've got to be cruel to win, I know, but...

She glanced his way, caught his eye. As if she was reading his mind, she smiled, trying to reassure him. Look at me, her eyes implored him, I'm fine. Everything's fine. She lifted her hands to him, and even as she gestured to him to come to her all he could see were the traces of blood on her hands. All because he froze.

No, Reis, it's not fine, he thought, and that was why he turned away.

-End to Freeze-

I've always wanted to write a sequel to WHW and TSM. However, that would make it pretty much a novelization, which would be pointless because we've all played the game. Instead, this is more of a series of snapshots so I can work on creating concise, detailed scenes. Besides, these days it's about all I can do with school. Speaking of which, UFC's restart is now on 5/31; yell at my professors, not me. The new contest deadline is in my bio.

The title is the romanized form of the katakana that spells the word 'breath'. This is how it's read for Reis' breath attacks. Bracelet in kana is 'buresuretto'.

Note to self: Stop pointing out Beowulf's low brave, even if I am infinitely amused by its implications. "Bravely bold Sir Robin..." Also, Araguay's ninja battle is its rare battle, though I prefer Bariaus Valley's tiamat rare battle.