Poison Tree

DISCLAIMER: Tales of the Abyss belongs to Namco Bandai.

Five years.

Five years since he entered this accursed place as a boy hardened beyond his nine years. Five years since he got a job as a servant, playing the role of an obsequious child who did nothing but what he was told. Five years since he finally got a look at the man who had slaughtered his family in cold blood.

Five years, and no one once suspected the blond, easygoing servant as anyone else, let alone Gailardia Galan, the sole remaining heir of House Gardios.

Of course, did he look like he could do wrong in their eyes?

-

He was young, so young when everything was taken from him.

One moment, Gailardia was told to find shelter; the next, he woke up in ruins. It infuriated him that he couldn't find the memories in between the moment the Kimlascan soldiers raided the house and the moment he found himself being carried by Pere. The young noble had looked at himself, covered in blood, scratches adorning his previously unmarked skin.

For Lorelei's sake, he was five.

Yet five was a very impressionable age, and Gailardia soon found himself set on one thing and one thing alone: revenge.

-

The two survivors spent the next four years building themselves a façade, a mask of people who only knew them as two servants-for-hire. After constructing a suitable identity, Gailardia and Pere applied for a job in House Fabre. They fit needed niches nicely; Pere became the manor gardener, while Gailardia was assigned to serve the young master.

It was the perfect position to be in. He would exact his revenge when the time was right by killing Luke.

To Gailardia, it only seemed right at the time. What better way to let Duke Fabre, the man responsible for him losing his whole family, know how it felt? After all, for a man consumed by succession, the family, the bloodline, losing his only son would be losing everything.

It would become his resolve, his desire, his reason to exist. Gailardia told himself that he would make it so.

-

Before they were accepted into the house, they, along with other servants-to-be, had to swear fealty to the Duke and his house. They lined up in a row facing the Duke, kneeling on one knee, looking at the red carpet on which they stood. Gailardia found himself repeating words emptily along with everyone else, thinking that they only sounded like lifeless drones.

A shadow cast itself over the ground he was staring at. Gailardia looked up to see the Duke looking right into his eyes. He restrained himself from unleashing his hatred of four years right then and there, only returning the look with one as free of hatred as possible.

These were the eyes of a murderer, he told himself. Remember what they are.

"Do you, Guy Cecil, swear to serve House Fabre faithfully and dutifully?" the Duke asked.

It took all of Gailardia's strength to keep the steady look and say yes, Guy Cecil did swear fealty to House Fabre, although he knew that he, Gailardia Galan Gardios, could never do such a thing.

-

For the next five years, Gailardia spent his days in the Fabre manor, occasionally leaving the manor's confines to retrieve groceries or other such things in the city of Baticul. Granted, the city was impressive, with its intricate design and machinery that only seemed to rise, but Gailardia refused to admit that it was better than what memories he had of the times he had gone to Grand Chokmah.

He lived among the Fabre family and their servants, slowly assimilating himself until the point where it felt awkward without him in the manor. It was easy to make himself familiar to the people after a while; give drinks to the guards who had to stand watch on cold nights, offer to help whenever he had free time from Luke, engage in conversation during meals in the kitchen – but only as much as befitting a child.

The men treated him like a younger brother, sometimes teasing him for his unintended lady's charm, sometimes showing him things to learn. It was because of some of them that he found out about fontech, that he developed what might have been considered an unhealthy obsession.

The ladies were another matter.

Some of the older maids seemed to find his odd fear of women endearing, while the younger ones loved to tease him incessantly. Nonetheless, he watched as his relationships with them changed as they grew older, watched them redden whenever he let slip another compliment.

At times like these, he felt like this really was his family. That this was where he belonged.

But every time he felt this, he only strengthened his resolve, patching up what had cracked. It was only a painful reminder that this wasn't his family, that his real family had died at the hands of the very man he was serving.

So he continued to lay his trap, this trap of false identity.

-

Gailardia never knew how to describe his relationship with Luke.

It was awkward.

One of the first things Gailardia would think about was Natalia, Luke's fiancée, the daughter of King Ingobert VI of Kimlasca and therefore the crown princess. She often came over to the manor to play with Luke, though from observation Gailardia saw both of them approaching their relationship with a sense of duty rather than a wish to get along. Natalia also quite enjoyed terrifying Gailardia with her proximity to him. She found it amusing. If she weren't the princess he probably wouldn't have minded as much – after all, the maids did it – but her stuck-up attitude didn't help matters.

But Luke himself, that was another thing.

Gailardia had originally tried to hate Luke with as much intensity as he could muster, trying not to slip out of his servant's role while keeping a cold, distant air around him. However, he realized that Luke was the one person he needed the trust of the most, so he slowly changed his attitude so that the relationship between them could be called 'somewhat trusting'.

That didn't change the fact that he found Luke annoying.

-

Luke spent much of his time trying to become the best he could for his father. At first, it sounded stupid to Gailardia; why would you want to please someone who doesn't care for you at all, even when you're his son? It soon became apparent that Luke was doing all this for the very reason of gaining his father's attention, that his father mattered a lot to him.

While Gailardia still found it very stupid – why try to please someone for their attentions when as a father they should give it to you unconditionally? – he admitted to himself that he couldn't empathize. Back at home – no, when he still had a home, he had been such a scared little child, but he had care in the form of his parents and his sister.

Luke had his mother, but she was often ill and the one in need of care instead, and Gailardia could safely say that Luke did not have his father.

But regardless of Luke's annoyance, Gailardia found it harder and harder to simply objectify him as 'the Duke's son' and 'the boy he would kill'. Through years together his concept of 'Luke' changed and shaped itself into a defined figure – one of duty, dedication, maybe even care. Someone other than a clone of his father who didn't even appreciate the efforts his son made for him.

He began spending long nights laying awake in bed, listening to Pere's snoring while he wondered: could he kill an innocent, ruin an entire future, to inflict pain on a man who didn't deserve a life to be used to teach him a lesson?

-

Even though he questioned the very reason he entered the Fabre manor, he never lost sight of the idea of revenge. Not when he met Van once more.

To everyone else he may have become Van Grants, the young Commandant of the Order of Lorelei's Oracle Knights, but Gailardia and Pere knew him as Vandesdelca Musto Fende, descended from both Yulia and one of her seven sages, sworn to serve House Gardios. Gailardia could never forget the one he saw as an older brother, the one who protected him from things he thought were scary when he was young.

He hadn't expected Van to come to the Fabre manor. All things considered, it wasn't out of place for the Oracle Knights to send someone to 'the light of the sacred flame', the scion of Lorelei read about in the Score, but Gailardia hadn't expected Van. He didn't even know his old friend had survived Hod's destruction, or how he had.

But Van's very presence was enough to jump-start the feelings of hatred in him. It reminded him of what once was, what was taken from him and what could never be replaced.

-

When he and Van finally had time to talk alone in the courtyard, Gailardia almost felt like spilling out everything at once. His ideas of revenge, his entering the manor with Pere – it took all he had to remain quiet and secretive. It felt great to have a vent, to finally have someone who could listen to his pent-up rage.

"The house that protected my ancestors is no more," Van said slowly, after Gailardia had finished. "The island of Hod shall have its revenge." He took out the blade at his side, motioned for Gailardia to hold out his hands, and laid the blade on top. It was the most he could do without looking awkward.

"To you, Gailardia Galan, heir to House Gardios, I pledge my blade."

Gailardia looked at his old friend and guardian, not sure of what to do or say except returning the blade to him, offering him the hilt.

"The island of Hod shall have its revenge," Gailardia repeated. Van took his blade and sheathed it. Then he turned, stepped away from Gailardia, and left the courtyard.

Each subsequent visit to the Fabre manor saw a renewal of Gailardia's resolve. The built-up desire welled up until now, five years since he first entered the Duke's home, when the young noble from Hod finally decided to exact his revenge.

-

The cold night breeze rustled Gailardia's clothes gently as he stepped into the Fabre manor courtyard. It wasn't much trouble getting out quietly; it wasn't as though Pere didn't know what he was going to do, and he knew now that the maids were heavy sleepers.

His knuckles were starting to go numb, though he wasn't sure if it was from the wind blowing against them or his grip on his sheath causing them to. Gailardia had been surprised at the ease of getting a sword of his own and bringing it into the manor. He considered taking what was rightfully his, the Jewel of Gardios, but he decided against it and brought his own sword.

After all, House Gardios no longer existed. Just the shadow of its former glory, a glory that shouldn't have to be dirtied in order to bring revenge, and a ghost who could not rest.

Gailardia crossed the courtyard to the Duke's chamber without much fear of being caught; all the guards should be asleep for another two hours after drinking what he passed around that night.

Stepping lightly between limbs outstretched in sleep, the blond pulled out a small wire as he approached the double doors to the Duke's chamber. He jiggled it in the space between the doors until he heard a satisfying click. Gailardia pushed the doors open and walked into the room.

The Duke and Lady Suzanne lay asleep on their beds, completely unaware that there was a third figure in their room. Gailardia quietly closed the door behind him. He immediately noticed a sword on the side table of Duke Fabre's bed; it wouldn't do for the Duke to get his hands on it. Gailardia walked over to the desk and took it in his left, at the same time drawing his own blade out with his right.

House Gardios' final heir watched, by the light of the moon, as Duke Fabre's eyes flickered open to find a sword at his throat.

-

The Duke looked like he was going to yell at first, but Gailardia only moved the blade closer to him and he stopped.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Gailardia warned. "Though it's not like anyone can hear you. Lady Suzanne's illness causes her to go into deep slumber and all the guards outside are knocked out."

"You… you're one of the servants in the house."

"Yes, but do you know who I really am?" Gailardia watched as Duke Fabre narrowed his eyes, not quite sure what to make of the question. "How about I let you guess while I talk?"

Gailardia stared right into the Duke's eyes, remembering what they looked like when he first saw them. These were the eyes of a murderer. They looked so different now – where Gailardia once saw a condescending glare was now a masked fear.

"At first, I considered killing Luke," Gailardia began, watching the Duke about to protest when the sword at his throat reminded him why it was there. "Growing up with everyone doting on him, he would be self-centered and arrogant – not unlike you. But more than that, for a man like you, so obsessed with making sure that your bloodline extends… killing your only son would completely devastate you, wouldn't it?"

"You aren't going to – "

"If I had wanted to kill Luke tonight, would I be here?" the blond asked. "I did say 'at first'." Gailardia cast his glance over at the still sleeping Lady Suzanne. When he saw the Duke's face contort, he said, "Don't worry. There's a reason the sword's at your throat."

Duke Fabre's arm shot out for something on his side table. Something that should have been there. Smiling, Gailardia held up his left hand, holding the Duke's sword.

"Let's continue, shall we? I'm sure you'd love to hear why the Fabre bloodline hasn't been stopped yet." Gailardia felt his arm starting to waver from holding the sword, but he kept it in place.

He was going to break this man.

"But Luke didn't turn out spoiled or self-centred. Yeah, he was annoying. Always coming to me with 'Do you think Father will like this?' or 'Have I done well enough for Father?' and all that. But I guess you don't know that, do you? Have you ever done anything with your son other than demand things of him?"

The Duke looked like he had been stabbed already. But Gailardia wasn't done.

"I found myself thinking that it wasn't worth taking away his life to make yours miserable. I couldn't kill an innocent soul to get my revenge on you. You aren't worth it."

"If you take my life, you'll hurt his," the Duke said quickly, before Gailardia could stop him. The blond saw a spark of fight in the man's eyes. The comment had hit a nerve on Gailardia, but he wouldn't let the Duke see that.

"Nothing to lose now, Duke Fabre? Is that why you're so willing to fight now?" Gailardia asked. "Well, how about I ask you this… do you really think your son will be hurt? Luke, who I see more than you ever will? Luke, who idolizes and trusts Van Grants above all else?"

Duke Fabre opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but closed it as though he had no will left. But Gailardia kept going.

"Using someone else as a shield… do you really like preying on innocents that much? You've certainly killed a lot of them. The servants in my house, my mother, my sister, the whole island of Hod! Did you feel nothing when you sent an entire island of people to their deaths?" Gailardia felt his voice cracking, but he steeled himself. Revenge was not his yet.

The Duke whispered, "You… House Gardios…"

"That's right," Gailardia said coldly. "And that will be the last thing you say."

With that, he thrust his tiring arm, sword in hand, into the Duke's throat.

He had done it. Revenge was his – no, it belonged to everyone on Hod who had lost their lives because of the man he just killed.

A strangled cry escaped the Duke's lips; Gailardia immediately turned to Lady Suzanne to see if she had been awoken because of it. She shuffled slightly in her bed, but only rolled over to her other side. Reassured that the Lady would not wake any time soon, Gailardia pulled out the blade, watching as the blood of his family's killer sprayed out from his neck, splashing all over the bed, the table, the floor.

Gailardia looked over at the window. The sun was just beginning to cast its faint rays through the window into the chamber, reflecting off the now-tarnished steel of the sword in his hand. The thin light just barely illuminated the room, showing Gailardia a mirror placed on a wall.

Clothes covered in blood, a sword with a bloodied tip, it didn't take much to identify him as a killer. But his eyes…

He was a murderer.

Yet as he looked over at the Duke's body, the blood flow from the wound slowing, he didn't mind that he had become a murderer like the man he killed.

Gailardia had his revenge. And revenge was all that mattered.

Well, there goes my first story on for Tales of the Abyss. Guy is a favourite of mine, so I decided to decipher the whole 'revenge' idea, making this my Guy 'what if?' story. I have this need to rationalize everything, so that's how a lot of the story built itself, especially the Luke sections. I realize Guy basically makes a speech to the Duke, but after nine years of hating this man and five years living under the same roof you'd think he'd have something to say.

In short, this is a reflection of my now-biased opinion. Hope you liked it.

And yes, the title is a reference to William Blake's Poison Tree.

… I don't own that either.

-EmbeRin