Title: Crusader Chronicles - Sight Unseen
Author: Raging Tofu
Series: Guilty Gear
Type: Part 2/3
Rating: PG-13
Paring: N/A
Warning: A bit of violence graces this fic, as well as some mild language and the usual SolxKy implications.
Setting: This one starts off in the past, more specifically, during the Crusades. Also take note that this is before Justice is defeated and Sol's true identity is found out.
Author's Notes:It's been a while hasn't it? Life has certainly kept me busy, but I can still find time to get another story out. This is another piece I just started a year ago on a whim that continued out. Sol's a very interesting character type to write for and I rather enjoyed it. I think the most interesting part is the ambiguous opening. Just what were they talking about? Hmm? Comments are encouraged, as they are motivation.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Guilty Gear. Anyway, it belongs first and foremost to Ishiwatari-san and also to the people of Sammy Studios and Arc Systems.
Version History: v.1 9-19-2006 / 3-28-2008 (minor edits to info, full revision in works)

September 3rd 4:37pm

"You're certain?" he asked.

I nodded.

Ky set his mouth in a firm, resolute line before he turned to the rest of his men and issued several commands. I didn't listen; didn't even turn around to acknowledge the orders. His words were vacant to my ears. I wasn't about to let someone else tell me how to fight. Encouragement speeches and last minute recommendations never do well. It only added to the unease the other Knights were feeling already. Gears are a ruthless enemy-not just anyone can hold their own against one. There was no way around it—if you were going to fight, might as well fight as if you meant to kill. Otherwise, you won't win.

I've seen that fear in their eyes; the thoughts of "this may be my last day alive." Ultimately, it scares them witless—to the point where fighting is no longer an attack against mankind's most vicious enemy. Instead it becomes their method of defense. But most of them end up getting killed anyways. Holding back, hoping to save your own life by drawing out the fight—useless, unless of course, you like a lingering death. A kill was swift and thorough. Humane efforts are wasted by fools. It was unnecessary to me, and perhaps that why I was so savage when I broke them, ripping them to shreds with an uncanny hatred. I didn't care if they were kin. I despised them like no other. The sight-even the thought of them at times-was enough to send me in a blood fury.

That is why they all feared me and looked upon me with apprehension.

I was a demon, unleashed.

Ky gripped Fuuraiken's hilt tighter; a quick cackling of lighting shot down the blade. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn't been there previously. The excited anticipation of battle lit the slumbering bloodlust within him. His feet shifted in agitation-even the air around him felt electrified, which although wasn't unusual, today it felt like walking into a string of high-voltage wires. Only a handful of the troops assembled about us were able to kindle the same fighting desire.

I set a hand on his shoulder and was immediately greeted with a small shock—a random discharge of anxiousness and probably not intentional—and a hard, piercing glare.

It took any words I had right out of my mouth. His blue-green eyes were an icy stab that would probably freeze even the hottest of places. His element was not an easy one to wield. It required full concentration in order to control. Ky was in that mode now, and breaking him out of it would be a very, bad, thing. One slip in this attention and a torrent of electrical power would rip through anything without heed. (Mastery of an element was hard task, often taking the better part of one's life to gain control. Ky, at his young age, truly was a prodigy; even if his only setback was that he would become completely exhausted after a battle, having used all his energy. Endurance was still lacking in him.) The rest of his men seemed to sense this change in him as well, as they surreptitiously began to edge away or divert their attention elsewhere. Tension was thick in the air; everyone flinching at the slightest scuffle of dirt or breathe of wind. Eyes darted about, trying desperately to garner a glimpse of our undetectable enemy. Moments passed, turning into minutes, but still no sight or sound of what lay beyond the senses.

There was no warning—one moment silence, then a sudden surge of shrieks as Gears seemed to manifest out of the very ground and air. Not a single Knight wasted any time getting into the fray. I myself promptly laid waste to first few dozen that surrounded me. Initially, all divisions adhered by the original plan of surrounding a horde and then siphoning them off to a contingent ready to overwhelm the Gears, but it all became chaos very quickly. For whatever reason these Gears didn't behave in the same manner as any previous did. It was as if they had received a boost to their intelligence pertaining to battle strategy. No more of their predatory instinct of rush in and maim—no, now they fought with the finesse of a planned attack.

I whirled around, cutting through several Gears as I did so before delivering a heavy downward slash that cleanly lopped off one Gear's head and arm. Two of them tried to jump me from behind, but were quickly punished with a Bandit Revolver. Another one made a bold dash; its sharp fangs meeting with Fuuenken's hot steel as I raised my sword in defense. With a smirk, I incinerated the foolish creature. The other Gears surrounding me didn't seem deterred at all—they just charged instead and met with similar fates.

From behind the pack that had just assaulted me, a larger Gear stepped forth, issuing a battle cry from its huge maw. It boasted a long, whip-like tail, oversized canine fangs and claws longer than a man's head. Gold eyes glared intensely as it lowered its head and shoulders. It gave a throaty growl before springing forth—claws aimed straight for my face. I dashed out of reach, countering with a fiery punch. It took it straight to the head and didn't even seem phased by it all. There was a quick flash as tail lashed out, knocking my feet out from under me. A heartbeat later, it had pounced on top of me, giant hand enclosed around my throat and head, Fuuenken falling out of my hands.

"Dirty traitor," said the Gear in a rumbling hiss as it leaned close, the five-tongued flame mark hardly a hand's breath away. I could feel my own grow hot and painful. It clenched its hand tighter; one razor-sharp blade of claw dug into my scalp while another sliced though my uniform's high collar as if it were nothing, finding its way into flesh. The wounds seared with agony. Gritting my teeth, I managed to get my legs under it's hulking form. The lacerations were ripped open even further as I kicked it off of me.

The large Gear had barely touched the ground before it rebounded, claws seeking head again. I veered aside to avoid it, but at the same instant I reached out, grabbing hunks of it tough hide. With a heave I hurled the Gear overhead. It landed with force against the ground. In one quick, fluid motion, I scooped up Fuuenken and rammed her forcefully into its exposed and unprotected chest. It let out an ear-piercing scream before giving a final shudder.

It was then that I tasted blood and felt the sharp ting of pain on my side. Somehow, during my brawls, I had received a decent set of cuts along my shoulder and side. Wiping my mouth on the back of my hand I also noted the lack of Gears in the area I occupied. Glancing about showed the majority of them to be gathering several feet away near one particular Knight.

He was unmistakable by his blond hair and the skill and tact in which he wielded his weapon with. Fighting Ky was almost like dancing with Death himself. Amused, I continued to watch as he took down Gear after Gear. Even though he was killing, he seemed to go about it as humanely as possible. Every move had a purpose, every cut had meaning. Just as he was getting the hoard assaulting him underway, not one, but three of the more colossal Gears found him.

Ky didn't even seem them.

He was finishing off one group with a couple of Stun Edges when one of the large Gears strode up behind him, backhanding his form like a rag doll. It pitched him a good twenty feet or so. Ky was slow to rise and the behemoth three took the advantage. Dropping to all fours, they rushed in on him, several groups of smaller Gears following in their wake. Almost without thinking, I reached for Fuuenken, but just as my fingers glanced her hilt I felt a powerful surge that nearly brought me to my knees.

Something inside Ky snapped, causing an explosion of destruction, the likes of which one would never expect from someone as pure as he. He cut and sliced with a style that was both elegant and vicious, no longer taking concern for the enemies before him. He wanted their blood as retribution; I could see it in his eyes and hear it as he screamed through his attacks. Any blows he received he seemed to shrug off, intent only on eliminating the threat before him. When it was finished, he stood there amidst a wreckage of carnage. The already building stench of the dead is nauseating but neither he nor I give it much heed. There is a silence that sweeps over the field, and very quickly all I can hear is his huffing breath as he begins to realize the extent of his frenzy. The once immaculate white uniform is splatter with blood, his hands a soaked in it and his face carries a smear or two.

And I find it ravishing.

Slowly, he turned toward me; there's an apprehension in his blue-green eyes. The cloth on his shoulder his torn away, revealing pale flesh beneath and a nasty gash. He strives to compose himself, but can't help the shock that crosses his face. I know what he's thinking; he doesn't make an effort to hide it, as he is still too paralyzed with fear. With a smirk, I stare back, beneath the wild mess of bangs that hides my eyes. That's right, I tell him with my gaze. You did do that.

There's a twitch as he shakes his head, futilely trying to elude himself from the truth. A hand rises to cover his mouth and he shuts his eyes tight. His body shakes with a choked breath, the grip around his sword hilt falters and Fuuraiken falls to the ground with a clatter.

"War ain't pretty, boy," I said, striding up to him. His face is sheen of sweat, but whether it's from his rampant attack or from fear it unknown. Either way, I couldn't care less, because right now, he's looking pretty damn desirable. Casually, I light up a cigarette and take a long draw.

"I-I don't know…" his voice is shaky, lacking its usual elegant flow. "…what came over me…" He paused a moment before rising. Glancing around him does nothing to help his situation; his eyes widen in fear and disgust. "There's just no way…" Shaking his head, he shuts his eyes tight again.

I heave another puff before licking my lips, gazing over the battlefield. "It happens to all of us…" I hear my voice say, but somehow the words seem foreign; as if I'm trying to explain away or come up with an excuse for his actions.

Like I wanted to protect him against what he did.

I scoff. Yeah, right. Like that would every happen to someone like me. The idea, although seemingly untrue, is amusing and I shake it off without a second thought. Turning my attention back to the blond, I see him stooping to pick up his fallen comrade. His fingers grip the hilt tightly and he stares solemnly over his wreckage. Throughout the field others are staggering away or helping another who may be injured.
Some do not rise at all. Then the eyes drop and he begins his familiar rite of praying for the fallen.

I take another draw as I watched, but only for a moment. The boy's blind faith sickens me. As far as I'm concerned, this 'God' of his doesn't really exist. I'm confident that I've seen enough in my time to know otherwise. Disposing of my cigarette, I turn and leave, grabbing Fuuenken, from where I had rammed her into a Gear's chest, and begin heading back to the base camp. Ky follows shortly after.

September 5th 8:09pm

Patrols are set up for the night, and I find myself stuck on the midwatch, which does nothing to ease me through the ration meals we receive. I mean, who the hell likes standing watch in the middle of the night? Especially after all the work I did. Regardless though, I figured it would be a good four hours spent thinking about what to do next. There was no way in hell I was going to stay in the Order—too much aristocracy if you ask me. That, and the fact that it was run by a brat barely weaned also got on my nerves. One of these days he'd be taking orders from me—one way or another. Not to say that I had disrespect for the Order and those in it, I just hated how they didn't give me any. If they knew half the things I've done—well, that would certainly get me high on their lists, but still….

I could never tell anyone that. What would they think? A demon pretending to be an angel…pretty damn condemnable if you ask me. But then again, that's just their views. People are just too narrow minded for my liking. Maybe if they had been around half as long as I have they'd see the world differently, though some part of me doubts that. Half the Order is a bunch of headstrong youths, barely adults, who are too full of their own ideals to realize the greater whole. The sinless can never understand the life the sinful.

It's like leading a bunch of lambs to the slaughter. I thought grimly.

By now, the moon had begun to rise and I had reached my post on the outer rim of the camp; another Knight standing vigilant. He was one of those 'blind followers' believing that they were doing a just cause, which they were, but they didn't grasp the reasons behind it. This war wasn't just about eliminating the Gears.

"No sign of anything yet," he informed me, being as brief and sharp as he could. Like many, this one also hated speaking with me, but none of them make any effort whatsoever to show any restraint in their dealings. "But you may want to keep on eye on the ridge. The afternoon watch claims that they spotted some movement up there, but it's been quiet since." The Knight added, before returning to the communal fire.

A fallen log served as a decent seat and there was a small fire provided. I stared at the dancing flames for several seconds before willing them to go out. I liked the dark better; it was much easier to see and hear. In the distance, carrion birds could be heard, still squabbling over the remains from the other day. There was a forest off to the northeast of where I sat and it was generally silent, save for the normal nocturnal sounds. The ridge in the north showed no activity whatsoever.

A bored sigh escaped me and I began searching for a pack of cigarettes.

I didn't find one.

It was going to be a long four hours.

Not long after I had begun my nightly vigil, a fog rolled in, blanketing everything with its misty touch. The ridge slowly began to slip under its newly acquired cloak. I squinted at it, watching as the treetops ghosted in and out of the white smoke. The log beneath me had suddenly become uncomfortable so I plopped to the ground, stretching my arms out across the top. With the fog a damp chill began to settle in, but I was fairly comfortable where I sat, though I wouldn't be surprised if half our regiment ended up sick from chill after this night.

I heaved another bored sigh before stretching out the knots in my shoulders. The shadowed outline of a deer pawed cautiously beneath the forest line; I watched it for some time before crossing my arms and letting my head nod against my chest. As far as I was concerned, nothing was going to happen this night, so it'd be no big deal if I took a quick nap. Besides, what's the worst they could do to me? Everything thing they had thrown at me so far was hardly 'punishment' anyways.

Just when I had stared to drift from reality, the soft padding of feet stirred me. I opened my eyes to a familiar pair of white and blue boots. I didn't have the pleasure of even waiting two seconds before I heard his voice.

"Why am I not surprised?" He sounded exasperated, as usual. "You're a hopeless disgrace."

I smirk and lazily raised my head, peeking out of one eye. "And what brings you out here?"

"This," Ky answered before tossing a thick wooly blanket at me. "Though I'm not sure why I bother. 'Twould probably be better if I just let you freeze out here." He sat down on the log.

"Notta chance," I slur out before yawning.

"Is that so?" Ky cleverly cocked an eyebrow, disbelief lacing his tone. He reached out and gently brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. His fingertips are chilled and the way he lightly drags them across my skin is enough to give anyone one the shivers. His touch is soft; gentle, but restrained-a kind of well-concealed restraint. Slowly, he takes his hand away and I find myself strangely disappointed.

Ky gave a light scoff. "Unbelievable. You truly are a mystery…" he added, but I barely heard him. My thoughts were still lingering on his hands.

"Here," I said, as I held the blanket out. "You'll have more of a use for this than I will." I kept my eyes glued to the ridge in front of me. At first, Ky made no movement to accept, but then, instead of just reaching out and taking it, he rose from his perch, sat down beside me and threw the blanket about both our shoulders. Even though I know it's just Ky being his normal selfless self, I can't help but tense, throwing him an incredulous look. He didn't seem to notice as he stared calmly out at the ridge.

"Heinrik tells me there was movement out there earlier. Have you spotted anything?" he said nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the misty valley.

I don't believe this kid! "Uh…no." Privately, I scold myself for becoming so easily unsettled like that. What's he thinking? Ky gave a 'hmm' sigh and continues to gaze out at the forest and ridge.

It's just Ky being Ky, I tell myself. He's still a whelp, not even a man yet. He doesn't know what he's doing. Yes, he was still at am impressionable age. Instantly my mind filled with schemes of the paths I could lead him down.

I'm horrible…well it's his fault anway…

Silence holds for a moment, but then he suddenly piques, "What do you want out of life, Sol?" he turns and looks up at me, innocent blue eyes piercing.

"Why are you asking me that?" I couldn't fathom why he would bring up such a thing.

He shrugged. "This war won't last forever. If and when it does end, what do you plan on doing?" He sounded almost sad as he spoke.

"You sound unsure as if it will end," I stated, dodging his question. Even I didn't know the answer to that. Honestly, I think some part of me was hoping that I would die in this god-forsaken war. I was tired of life-tired and fed up of constantly running around, trying to hide who I really was, what I really was, and what I had done. If I were out of the picture, I wouldn't have to face my mistakes everyday; I wouldn't have to deal with a world that had become twisted and lost. If I were gone, I might finally be able to be at peace with myself.

"I don't know…" Ky said, breaking my thoughts. His gaze drifted and became distant. "Some days, I really don't know. I mean, I try, but then I wonder, is it really enough? Is what I'm doing actually helping? To be frank, I've had enough…enough of the killings…enough of losing people…enough of trying to solve everyone's problems." He furrowed his brow and I could tell he was trying not to let his emotions overrun him.

"Some days," he continued. "I wish it would all just end. That everything would be gone, or it would be some horrible dream that I would wake up from. But its not." He paused to let out a sigh and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, retreating within himself. "It never is…" Ky shook his head lightly and then said, "I apologize, I really shouldn't have said those things."

For once, I kept my mouth shut.

Moonlight began to softly pour out from behind the clouds; the maiden of the night bidding us a gentle welcome. A smirking huff escaped me. Ky didn't say anything more, he just seemed to be more lost in his own thoughts than to remember that I was here, and that he was sharing a blanket with his sworn rival. Crickets that had been strangely quiet now began to pick up their buzzing chorus, a few fireflies drifted about. A small rustle in the tall grass alerted me to a brown hare. I glanced at Ky again. He was still absorbed in his thoughts, and probably would be for some time. Picking a point in the distance, I relaxed and then threw my senses wide.

It was a little technique I had learned over the years and I doubt anyone in the Order knew of it. It involved complete concentration, but at the same time one had to be completely relaxed, almost in a trance like state for the ability to work. With this technique I could 'feel' out anything within a given area; the further I went though, the weaker it got. Within a heartbeat I had already located all the members of our company, whether or not they were awake or not, as well as several wild animals. The nearest town was at least thirty miles away, if not more, and they were a faint collective fuzzy signal at the edge of my reach.

I had come to notice, over time with use, that everything carries its own unique signature to this sense. Humans generally give off a light, warm presence, but depending on their mood, it will change. Animals are usually apprehensive or calmed. Gears though… the sensations I pick up from them are enough to make one sick. Anger, confusion, hatred, pain-all balled up into one gigantic knot. It's nerve-wracking to say the least. I think at an unconscious level, all living things have the ability to 'feel' this way, it's just that they don't use it as I do. Instead, it becomes akin to instinct. Non-humans don't know just how evil a Gear can be, but they still scatter in their wake.

Satisfied that there aren't any Gears in the area, I draw back. They must have all withdrawn after the battle. I mused. Or else, they've found some way to hide themselves better. It was then that I felt a weight against my shoulder. Glancing down reveled a slumbering Ky. I was befuddled yet again.

He can't… I turned aside, gnawing on my lower lip. He doesn't know what he's doing… what he's asking… There's no way…at least, not with him consciously knowing it. I turned back and studied him. Ky seemed twice as innocent while sleeping than when he was awake. His face was serene; nightmares would not be visiting him tonight. My arm found its way around his slim shoulders and my hand came to rest on his head, burying my fingers into his golden tresses.

"Is this what you want?" I asked rhetorically to his slumbering form. I sighed. "Dumb kid…"

He was too young and too naïve to relieve the extent of his actions and the consequences that would arise from them. At any rate, this little situation would definitely lead to a more than annoying reception with everyone else, assuming they found out.

Hn. You say I'm a mystery, but yet, you yourself are the biggest puzzle of all. Just what is it that you want? I paused in my thoughts as I studied his features some more. The shadow of his long lashes made his face seem almost angelic. You despise me to a wit's end and then you pull a stunt like this… With every passing moment, I found it harder and harder to contain myself. You're just lucky you can get away with it…

I spent the remainder of my time trying to find a plausible way to explain everything to the next watch, but each one sounded worse than the last. Like anyone would ever believe me anyway. Glancing at the sky informed me that my relief was way past due. I could only speculate two options-either he had forgotten and slept through, or he had seen us and had the better mind to leave us alone. Either way didn't sit well with me.

For a time I distracted myself with a dancing flame on my fingertips, but when the fall night gave to the morning sunlight, my attention was averted to a waking Ky. His initial reaction was a sleepy glance-about, then an interesting squeak of sorts. He shot up very quickly, and then proceeded to double over, still entangled in the blanket. A mumbled 'Oh God…' could be heard as he buried his face in his hand.

I just had to chuckle. Ky shot me a glare, which only made me sneer harder.

"You should have woken me," he said, turning aside, his face carried a light flush in color.

"And why would I want to do that?" I countered. He could find no viable cause to give. Ky was silent for a moment more, then rose and folded the blanket.

"I apologize for the intrusion, as well as keeping you up past your watch. You may have the rest of the day to do as you please as recuperation, providing we don't require need of your services later." With a face as red as a sunburn, he smartly turned on heel and dashed back into the camp. I found I couldn't help but watch him go, as he wove in between the ranks of field tents and early-risers. Even after he was long gone from view, I still starred at the place where I last saw him disappear behind the pale, cream linen of a tent flap.

A rough hand clapped me on the shoulder, bringing me back to my senses. Turning around, I met with the aged grin of John Boyd, one of the other Knights, and my tardy relief. Boyd was an older man; his hair had mostly gone to gray with patches of white at his temples. But despite his age, he could still hold his own in a fight; his skill with a battle-axe was frightening; the numerous scars dotting his skin attested to that. He was also one of the few within the Order that didn't outright loathe me. Occasionally, we would just sit and discuss whatever was on our minds, though he did most of the talking.

"You look like you've lost something," he casually observed while offering me a cigarette. I took it, lighting it as I touched it, and took a much needed draw.

"Is that so?" I remarked, taking the cancer stick away and exhaling a puff of gray-white smoke. Boyd had a way of seeing the 'underneath' that was both amusing as it was annoying.

He chortled, and then looked at me with those peculiar bright green eyes of his. "You play an interesting game."

I scoffed and took another draw. "You're late, you know."

Boyd shrugged, raising his palms face up. "Can't be helped. I got tied up with the lads." The so-called 'lads' he was referring to was everyone younger than him, and by rumors, he was the oldest. But they were merely rumors-if they only knew. "So," he continued after a beat. "Anything new?"

"Nah, there's nothing out there." I said as I rose, dusting off my backside. As if on cue, Boyd reached into an inner pocket and withdrew a small tin flask. He uncapped it, the strong scent of gin drifting in the air.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I sneered as he took a swig. He gave a satisfying "Aah," and then handed it off to me. I followed suit, but only took a small sip. Last night was still bothering me too much for me to care about drinking in the morning. Nothing was said as we traded the flask back and forth. Nothing needed to be said. It was just one of those odd moments of contentment where one could just be at ease while listening to the trees whisper their morning gossip.

"Y'know," Boyd began, his speech already carrying hints of a drunkard's slur. "You shud really do summ'in 'bout dat boy." He reached over for the flask and I gladly handed it over before turning aside.

"Hey, where you goin'?" the man called out after me.

"To get some sleep," I lied, but he took at face value and went back to his drink.

My head felt heavy, but whether from weariness or from the previous night, I didn't know. Slowly, I drowned the rest of the world out and let my feet take me where they would. I wandered a bit around the camp, catching pieces of the morning's talk as well as a quick meal. But even with a full stomach, I was still uneasy. Something just didn't feel right. Again, I let my feet take me where they would. This time, I found myself outside the larger tent I saw Ky enter earlier. It was a general sort of conference area amongst the leaders of the divisions. Their way of sorting out and planning attacks diplomatically. A bunch of bull if you ask me, but then again, I wasn't privy to their special meetings—but that wasn't going to stop me from entering.

Initially, it was only Ky who saw me slip between the loose cream flaps and step off to the side. He let me know with a quick glare that he didn't approve of my presence. There were several other members of the Order seated around the table with him, their tones hushed. It was a few seconds before the rest of them noticed my presence and each one displayed his or her own face of disgust towards me. Meledina, a female in charge of the Second Magic Defense Division was the first to speak up.

"I'm sure you are aware that you are intruding Sir Sol, is there something we can help you with? Or would you rather just skip to the disciplinary routines." Infamous within the Order for her sharp tongue, she spared me no refuge from it.

I flashed her a toothy grin before responding. "Yeah, there's something that needs to be brought to your attention, though I doubt you'll be able to deal with it, much less help."

"Enough of this debauchery," Reginald Launchette, head of Medical Division spoke up. "Either state your business or leave."

"Fine then," I countered. "I'll tell you after you remove that stick that up your ass."

"SOL!" Ky's face was a snarl of anger. He didn't need to say what he was thinking, I already knew. He glared at me for a second or two more before I left, squinting as bright rays of sunlight beat down. The wind wiped ferociously about as I made my way to another tent, the drop in light intensity and warmth as I entered was welcomed. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust before I could see the contents of the tent, thereby determining just whose flop I had decided to borrow, thought the sound of angry feet closing in outside probably would have given me the same answer. I turned around just as the cream flap was ripped open, and more bright light spilled in. Silhouetted in the light stood Ky.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded as he stepped inside. His cheeks were flushed and shoulders tensed. It almost made me smile to see him so unraveled.

"You said I was free to do as I pleased unless you needed me. I have some information you might find useful, and well, this is the fastest way of finding out." I said nonchalantly. Ky's face briefly scowled into his 'I hate you' look.

"People will talk," he mumbled lowly, completely dodging my remark. I could see the muscles in his neck tense with nervousness.

"So? What? You afraid your image will be ruined if you're constantly in my company?"

"Somewhat," he snapped back before a brief spout of pacing, which only added to his current frustration. "I don't have time for this Sol. Either tell me what so important or leave."

"Can't ask nicely, can you?"

Ky knit his brow further before deciding that he had had enough. Turning to go, he mumbled something along the lines of 'waste of time'. I honestly hadn't intended to rile him. Reaching out, I caught his shoulder just as he was about to exit the tent.

"Whoa, calm down there boy. You can't go back to that meeting all huffed up like this. Won't lead to anything good." My hand released his shoulder and gently touched his cheek. It immediately silenced any snappy remark he had ready. Slowly, I dragged my hand down to his neck, following the smooth curve to collar bone and then slipping a hand under the folds of his uniform.

Ky swallowed hard. Keeping his composure was becoming increasingly difficult. "Sol, what are you-"

"Does it matter?" I cut him off.

"I…it…" he couldn't get the words out. Ky was having a horrible time trying to keep himself composed. Breaths were heavy and I knew I was making him dizzy. It was rather amusing. Fingers continued to slowly trace the line of his collarbone to the point were it melded in with shoulder. I found bandage wrappings there. I withdrew my hand.

"Thought so…" I faced him squarely. Ky was a little pink, ashamed and embarrassed but for what reason was uncertain. "How long?" I queried.

Ky shrugged his clothes back into place. "That's none of your concern," he said tartly. "Now, unless you have business with me, I suggest you leave." He didn't even turn around. I bet his face was beat red.

I shoved my hands deep within my pockets and made for the exit. Lifting the tent flap, I paused.

"Watch your back, kid."

Sunlight blinded me again. I would have much rather stayed under the protection of a field tent and sleep, but that option was currently closed to me. There were things still yet to do. I headed south, toward the rear of the camp. Guard posts were also set up, but less frequently as a large valley below our encampment provided no cover for any advancing adversaries-they would be spotted the moment they entered the hills. My path ended at the edge of a rocky drop where a lone tree, bent out at an odd angle, clung to both wall and top. For a time, I let my eyes wander over the green recess before plopping down next to the scrawny tree.

Nothing better to do than to just wait, I thought, easing into a relaxed slouch, Fuuenken lying across my lap. Time passed as I let my mind wander. It was still early; they wouldn't be coming yet.

Footsteps brought me out of my reverie. I turned my attention to one of the Knights, a spearmen. He was young, I noted, as he glanced warily towards me. Hesitation and fear shadowed his face despite his best efforts to keep it neutral. His fingers gripped the metallic pole of his pointed weapon far tighter than usual. I took a moment to dig up his name.

"Zachary, right? Sixth division spearman," I hazarded. The young man's features changed slightly upon recognition. He nodded. "What can I do for you?"

Zachary swallowed hard before answering. "Commander Kiske wishes to see you. He said it's about the information you have."

So he understood me then…I set my mouth in a firm line. "Alright," I said, rising. I was easily a head taller than the spearman and this small factor seemed to make him even tenser.

He jerked his head into a quick nod before stiffly scooting aside. In some ways I was becoming irritated with all the apprehensiveness that everyone displayed. It was like they all thought that I might bit their heads off in any given second. On the whole, I probably wouldn't, but their fear still spoils a good moment.

Ky's tent was the most likely place he'd meet with me. He had never bothered to ask me to join in on the war councils and as such, all of my information to him was passed along in secret. He was waiting, sitting on his field cot and enjoying a cup of tea when I pushed aside the tent flap. He quickly set it down and rose, his face slightly furrowed.

"Yeah?" I threw the word at him. Ky knit his brows further, a small scowl appearing.

"I've alerted the sentries on the southern side and had the rest of the men get prepared just in case." Increasing the number of scouts would only signal to our enemies that we knew what they were planning and would throw our whole defense into chaos and confusion, but keeping word about wouldn't fowl up anything.

"So you still don't trust me?"

Ky didn't answer immediately. "I'm not sure how you come across your information regarding the Gear's movements…" he trailed off.

"But I haven't been wrong yet," Sneering, I hooked a thumb in my pocket.

He gave a heavy sigh as he averted his eyes, looking uneasy. "Do you know when they'll strike?"

I narrowed my gaze as I tuned him out for a moment. "Nightfall, tomorrow." I answered, returning. "From the western pass on the south side. They hope to scale the cliffs there in darkness, surprising us." I had surmised long ago that was probably the way the Gears all kept in contact-they all had some sort of subconscious link that they could hone in on. It was also the mostly likely way Justice controlled all of them.

"Is Justice leading them?" Ky asked, reaching up to light a lamp.

"No, not directly. Just larger Gears, like the ones we fought two days ago, but more of them." I watched intently as the small flame ignited, then dimmed as he turned down the wick.

"I see," Ky said quietly, letting go of the lamp. It threw his face in shadows but accented his softer features too. It almost made him look ethereal, like he wasn't there. Like he was going to disappear. It created a horrible feeling in the pit of my gut. A twisting convulsion that wanted to burst out and scream. I didn't want that, I didn't want him to go.

Why?

"Are you…. alright?"

"Hm?" I focused to find the French Knight standing directly in front of me. "You seem a bit distracted," he commented as fingers graced my face. "Are you unwell? Perhaps you should go down to-"

"I'm fine," I replied briskly as I grabbed his hand and pulled it aside. He threw one last fleeting look at me before turning aside and going back to his tea. Ky kept his back to me.

"We still have some time before nightfall," he took a sip. "You should probably prepare." Awkwardness was building now. He was just making conversation for the sake of talking.

I smirked as I approached him. "Like I need to," I said before palming his head.

"Don't!" he bit the word off sharply. I complied, but not before ruffling his hair into disarray, knowing he hated it. I heard a low growl arise from him, but he kept himself composed.

"Why don't you just let it out?" I asked, lowering my head to his. "Bet you'd love that-biting my head off." Ky grew tenser.

"Now is not the time-"

"So when is?" I pushed. "What better time than now?" I lowered my voice to a bare whisper. "You're just going to sit here and wait until this damnable war is over, aren't you? I'm not waiting. I want to end this now." To prove my point I bit down on his ear, not hard enough to draw blood, but not tenderly either. Immediately, a force was thrust into my abdomen. I withdrew, but held my ground.

Ky's face was a scowl of crimson. "I don't believe you…" he said thru gritted teeth. For a moment, it almost looked like he was tearing up. There was a quick flash of white and blue before I felt the deep sting of a hard backhand across my face. "Of all the indecent things…"

I smirked. Ky was having a hard time keeping himself under control. He couldn't even finish his reprimands. "That it?" I pressured him further. "Some words and a smack? Pretty weak stuff."

There was once a wise man that said, 'Quit while you're ahead' but I had never really given the saying any heed. And I paid for it each time too. This time was no different. 10,000 volts of pure electricity arced from Ky hitting me squarely in the chest. Any normal person would have been blown off his feet and problem sent into cardiac arrest if the shock hadn't killed him; but then again, I wasn't really an ordinary human.

There was a small wave of disbelief in Ky's face as the waves of blue dissipated, cackling once or twice before extinguishing. I just stood there, starring him down with my "knowing" smirk. He balled a fist and choked down the rest of his pride before turning around.

"Leave."

I went back to my tree.

September 9th 6:33pm

The orange disc of the sun sunk slowly into the western sky, its brilliant rays fading fast. To the east, the tiny dots of stars had already begun to appear. I laid, hands behind my head next to the twisted wood. The small cluster of leaves above me rustles slightly in the evening breeze. Aside from the usual noises of the encampment, there wasn't a sound in the wilderness below.

Then, barely audible, a scuffle of dirt and pebbles.

Slowly I drew to my feet and retreated. The small noises continued, growing nearer. I didn't have to check with my senses to know it was a horde of Gears. A gust of wind brought their putrid scent up over the ridge. It awakened the deep-seated hatred within me, kindling a familiar bloodlust. I stole a glance to the sun but she had already sunk beneath the horizon. Off behind me, I could hear the rest of the regiment gathering, preparing for attack. It felt like invisible chains were holding me back as I waited for the Gears to break the ridge's summit. I was to have first kill this night.

The tension continued to mount as the sounds grew closer. At once there was silence, so deadening one could almost hear the pounding heartbeats of the men at the rear. Agitation grew, the prolonged stillness bringing everyone to the point of snapping.

There was a rush of air as the Gear's blood curling scream arose and they spilled over the ledge, not at all taken aback by our awaiting force. My fury ran high as I let loose, tearing into them. Blood for blood…retribution for what I've done and all the suffering you've caused. The thought gripped me as I cut into their hides, ripping them apart.

The fire burned bright that night.

Thanks for reading! Leave a review?

Shortly after I first posted this, I found an unintentional self-pun in Ky's dialogue, so I prompted you readers to find it. Few guesses were made and about a year or so later, I revealed the correct phrase my LiveJournal; Kitsoru from LJ came here and took it. For those still curious, Frank is the Germanic word for French, so Ky's line "To be frank, ..." can be misconstrued as him saying "To be French..." which is nothing but silly humor, as Ky is French. At the very least, I hope I made you chuckle.

There is a prequel and a sequel to this part, please look forward to them, but don't expect anything any time soon.