Chronicles of Alphia
A series of short stories dealing with a variety of interactions between Albel and Sophia. Bases on Jewel Song's fic 'Closing In'. I simply took the words for the 1sentence community and wrote short stories for them. This has been done before, by Statik in 'Just Between Us' and another type of fic like this was done by catesy in 'Moments in time'.
These stories may and may not link together. If they do, it will be noted at the start. This is where I go to write when I can't seem to gain inspiration for my stories…especially since each of these stories has an ending with each chapter.
Time Frame: After visiting 4D space but before fighting Luther
Personal Interaction Level Between Sophia and Albel: On a deeper 'getting-to-know-you' level but far from intimate.
He had become accustom to injury. He could feel the blood pouring down his back. Experience told him he was bleeding freely. At the rate of blood loss he would pass out within minutes.
His vision began to blur. Instinct alone guided him to sidestep and avoid further injury. He had been fighting for hours on end with no relief in sight. It was of his own free choice. He had chosen to abandon the party when his own inner demons allowed him no sleep. He had been on his way to re-join them but the beasts of the area had other ideas.
Long ago his anxiety and frustration had been exhausted. Following a trail of wreckage in his wake his thrill for battle had vanished. Fatigue had claimed its hold, and all he sought were a few short hours of rest. Regardless of his silent wishes, the nocturnal population had determined him more likely a midnight snack.
Holding on to the last bit of strength left to him, he drove his katana home before passing out, face down, in the soft dirt.
His ears were shut to anything around him. The rustle of a final opponent reaching him never found a place in his slumber.
She had a problem and one she wasn't about to run telling Fayt about. The whole thing was awkward to say the least. What had happened to her to bring it down to this? Why was it she couldn't even look at him without fearing she would blush brighter than a ripe apple?
He wasn't a knight. Elicoor didn't have knights, but he was a soldier. No, not a soldier – a captain! In his own way he was a knight, but the ethics code of a proper knight far from suited him. In fact, he was more barbaric than any fairy tail knight.
"Duh Sophia!" she whispered silently to herself. "That's why it's called a fairy tail…though Elicoor DOES have fairies…"
She quit her thoughts before she confused herself. As of lately, trying to figure anything out between reality and 'the virtual' was something she avoided.
She had wondered from the camp in the dead of night. Claiming the gentle breeze as her own, she stood for moments staring out into nothing. Her thoughts danced and in a trance she resumed her walk. She didn't plan to walk far. She had no visions of grandeur and didn't want to encounter any trouble. She didn't want to fight – just to think.
Her thoughts ended abruptly when she heard a deep growl. The vocal warning was followed by the sounds of something moving. She halted all motion, holding her breath. Her ears searched and found the source. To her relief the – what ever it was – wasn't headed for her. It had found something else of more interest.
She was in the act of taking a step back when the moon appeared from behind drifting clouds. Startled, she sprung forward instead. Her staff had been the last thing she had opted to take with her. She only had it incase…and incase had just presented itself.
Swinging it up hastily, she didn't think as she cast a cascade of fire bolts at the beast. There had only been one enemy and for the first time in her life she could be accused of 'overkill'. One monster, unaware of her presence was vanquished before it even knew it wasn't alone.
She ignored the familiar churning in her stomach as she rushed to aid what she had poured a lot of energy into protecting. Extending herself to her limits, she healed the fallen man.
His slumber was easily aroused. Full awarement empowered him to move at a speed that surprised even himself. Forcing his eyes to open, which proved undemanding, he searched for answers.
He recalled being in the fields that night. He remembered his fights and the wound that brought him down. That had been in the dead of night under a blanket of thick darkness. He had just awoken to a bright morning sun hardly peeking over the horizon.
Looking to the far horizon he rotated his shoulder. Involuntarily he winced, expecting pain that never came. Keeping his breathing steady, he balanced himself and prepared to stand when a sound, soft and subtle, issued behind him.
Twisting, he brought his knees under him as he faced the unknown behind him. In an instant he was relieved he hadn't drawn his sword. Though none were there to see, he would have felt irritated at his actions if he had drawn a weapon on the sleeping girl.
She stirred, bobbing her head as she attempted to wake up. Of all the ones at camp that could have found him, he would admit only to himself he was satisfied it would be her in particular. Having only said a handful of words to her, she had taken the courage to speak to him. Though he never cared for idol talk, he found her voice soothing and not everything she said to be ditzy as the women he was accustom to.
He sat and crossed his legs as he waited for her to grasp her predicament. It didn't take long. She sat up promptly and smiled at him with a groggy expression. After a series of yawns and stretches she finally found her voice.
"Good morning, Albel."
He frowned at her cheerfulness. "Bah."
She only responded with a smile as she lifted herself to her feet. "Well, it won't be long before the others are up. I better get back." She moved lazily pass him, demanding her legs to carry her despite the protest to fall back to sleep. "I'll see you at breakfast."
He didn't respond. She was a strange creature indeed. She left, not once boasting about saving his life. He knew she would also keep that secret from the others. To her the business of one wasn't to be broadcasted. Another difference he found refreshing in the alien girl – her will to avoid idiotic gossip.
But why had she saved him? She was the healer and during battle had shared her gift in abundance. She never hesitated to heal him or anyone else. But last night was different. He had noticed, while watching her stir, that the ground was charred to ashes not far from his resting spot.
He effortlessly pieced together what had transpired. His wound had caused him to fall. As he lay there bleeding to death, she had come to his aid. It was obvious that in a rush of adrenaline, she had totally obliterated a monster he had failed to catch. After saving him from death she had healed him completely only to pass out from the exsertion of energy.
A week passed. He continuously brooded about that event; letting it fester.
And an epiphany rendered itself to his extraction. Though this realization was not as he had expected, it was something he could only accept as the truth.
Through all his injuries he didn't feel pain. Pain on a physical level was manageable. Not even worth the effort to acknowledge. But what he felt now was a pain that resonated deep in every bone.
The final battle was close – practically around a corner and through doors that lead to the depths of hell itself. He followed his companions, glancing occasionally at the girl to his right.
She trembled slightly, but kept her face clear of any apprehension. She was more of a fighter than he had accredited to her and he welcomed his misjudgment. But what he did next even extended the limits that he himself thought possible.
Reaching out with his hand of flesh, he rested it lightly on her shoulder. She startled slightly but never let his hand lose contact with her. Green eyes begged him to continue though she had no idea as to why he had imparted such a gesture on her.
Wetting his lips, he spoke only loud enough for her ears. "Strength is here and no fear can be found where courage has dominated. Pain is nothing more than a name for things that hurt and all injuries in any manner can be healed."
She nodded, finding the meaning in his enigmatic speech. After weeks of talking to him, she had found a way to translate his words, even if none before had been as sentimental as this. In fact, prior to this encounter his words were philosophical daggers. And yes, she had found it amusing that he had a prominent philosophical side that he shared with her alone.
"I agree," she whispered, saddened as he withdrew his hand.
"I feel the same, Albel," she thought. "I'm not worried about the struggle facing us through those doors. I feel the same pain knowing that soon it will all be over and we might have to part ways."