Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Skywind ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Gundam Wing, and I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.

 

Chapter 2

 

Pain screamed through Quatre's head, greater than ever before, and he let out a cry of protest, rolling away from both Lian and Landros - into the sun.

 

Just as suddenly as the pain had started, it stopped, and Quatre lowered his shaking hands from his temples. He could no longer see the courtyard, or Master Landros, or Lian. Everything in his line of vision was hidden in a blanket of gray mist.

 

“What-?”

 

Do you wish to become as you were?

 

The words echoed in Quatre's head, but all they did was confuse him. “I -I don't understand,” he said, his voice hoarse.

 

You have no memories of your time before Veran Hall, correct?

 

What was this voice, that rang with such familiarity in his mind? But…now that he thought about it, he had never once thought about his life before Veran Hall, before Master Landros…

 

With a cold shock, he realized that he did indeed have no memory of his past before Veran Hall. No memory of his life at all other than the past four years he had spent at Veran.

 

You have been under a blinding spell for four years, a control spell for the last three and a half months. Do you wish those spells gone from your body and mind?

 

Control…? “What do you mean, control spell?”

 

A control spell is a spell that allows the caster free rein over the victim's thoughts and emotions. It requires a significant amount of power and an unguardedness on the part of the victim.

 

The voice gave the definition calmly, almost with a lack of emotion, yet Quatre sensed iciness within it, a hidden rigidity.

 

Control. All the time he had been at Veran Hall, he had not been learning, he had not been a student; he had been a puppet to some wizard's whim. As the realization sank in, an emotion he had never felt before began to rise within him. He was not familiar enough with the feelings of human beings to realize it was anger.

 

Do you wish to become as you were?

 

Quatre heard the question repeated, and asked, “Will becoming…whatever I was before Veran Hall take the spells away?”

 

Yes. But you are no longer a child. In awakening your memories, your soul-strength will also be unlocked.

 

Quatre hesitated, not knowing what “soul-strength” was. Then he slowly climbed to his feet, his fists clenching, the strange, unfamiliar emotion reaching a roaring peak within him. “Then do it! Make me…be as I was!”

 

Very well. The voice paused, then said in something akin to a wry tone, You may tell Liandramonedarym that since he has awakened this force, he is responsible for it.

 

White-hot heat screamed through Quatre, and he cried out once more. The mists turned a glowing gold, then a brilliant, blinding yellow, and Quatre shut his eyes in desperation. There was a sound like a thunder-crack, and Quatre felt the ground ripple beneath his feet.

 

Just as suddenly as the power had surged through him, it stopped. Just stopped. And there was silence.

 

Quatre was on his knees in a bright patch of sunlight away from both Lian and Landros, gasping for breath.

 

-tre. Quatre, can you hear me?

 

Quatre closed his eyes, blocked out his surroundings, Master Landros's furious voice, the concerned one of Lian's, and focused.

 

Focused. For the first time in four years, Quatre was able to clear his mind, and concentrate on a single thing.

 

Most of what he had “learned” in the four years he had spent in Veran Hall were lies. Landros had had him studying children's fairy tales, and blinded his eyes for four years to the fact that he was not memorizing important information, but rather useless tall tales. He had kept Quatre there, he understood with an abrupt, cold clarity, for the purpose of draining away his power while Landros profited from the results of the usage of that power. He must be quite wealthy by now, he thought distantly. With all of the power he's stolen from me, he could have built ten castles. Out of air.

 

Quatre Raberba Winner slowly rose to his feet, his eyes clear and his expression calm. “I am fine, Liandramonedarym,” he said clearly, not once hesitating over the long, complicated name. With the clearing of his mind, the clumsiness he had so cursed himself for vanished as though it had never been, it too having been a product of Landros's control.

 

Landros was still and wary. Something was not quite right with his student. He could not read anything in his head; Quatre's conscious mind was curiously blank. “Quatre?” he asked cautiously. “Are you well?”

 

“Quite well, thank you, master Landros,” Quatre answered, his voice still holding that eerie, crystal-clear quality.

 

Landros frowned. “Then come here,” he commanded. “That beast, that reanlos, is a danger to you. I used the compulsion spell out of extreme concern for you. I understand that it was an unforgivable violation, but your safety is the most important thing to me at this moment.”

 

He was back to being the gentle, kind old man, with a just a touch of elderly-teacher sternness. In a way, Quatre had to admire the façade he now saw through so clearly. It was well-woven. “Yes, my safety would be important to you, wouldn't it?” Quatre's voice was still clear, calm, but it held a distinct chilliness to it now.

 

Landros went even stiller, if possible. “Just what do you mean?”

 

“You would want to protect me.” Now the calm from Quatre's voice was gone, leaving an icy deadliness in its place. “After all, I've been your main source of power for the last four years.”

 

Landros's eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed. Quatre was braced for it, but still swayed slightly as a powerful compulsion spell hit him dead on.

 

Forget all you have remembered…

 

Quatre's eyes closed as he fought the spell. No, I won't.

 

I took you in when you were wandering lost and starving…

 

What a load of horse crap.

 

I am your teacher…You trust me above all else…You are loyal only to me…

 

 

In a pig's eye.

 

There was a crack through the air, and Landros reeled back, his face white.

 

“Not so easy, is it?” Quatre asked, his voice mocking now. “You caught me off guard four years ago. A lucky break. Be assured that it will never happen again. Winners do not take the betrayal of their trust well.” He took a menacing step toward Landros - and stepped into the shadow of the nearby oak tree. The sun was setting.

 

Quatre felt the strength flowing through him diminish, and swore silently. Landros had been draining off of him for a long time; a few minutes in the sun would not allow him to regain all of that power. He was weakened - and Landros knew it, judging by the confidence that was beginning to reappear on his face.

 

“You are mine, Quatre,” he murmured, his voice tugging at Quatre, weaving a net around him. “This reanlos has grossly deceived you, and even now is planning to attack.”

 

Quatre shook his head, recognizing the powerful hypnotism spell for what it was at last and fighting it. “I belong to no one but myself. You have made me forget this for four years. No longer.”

 

Landros's face darkened with rage. “Come,” he snarled, and the most powerful compulsion Quatre had felt yet struck him.

 

He fought it, but his strength was diminishing with every passing second, and one step at a time, his feet began to move toward Landros.

 

“Lian.” All he said was that single word.

 

The reanlos leaped at Landros, pinning the mage easily and snapping the compulsion spell as he did so.

 

Quatre remained still for a moment, then raised a hand and almost idly traced a symbol in the air. It glowed gold with his power, and a golden aura surrounded Landros. The mage promptly went stiff as a board.

 

“You can get off him now,” Quatre murmured to Lian. “He won't be going anywhere for quite some time to come, I can assure you.”

 

The reanlos got off the man, swishing his tail scornfully as he did so and batting Landros in the face with it before pacing toward Quatre. How did you come to be under the control of him? There was a wealth of contempt in the wildcat's voice.

 

“A fool mistake on my part,” Quatre said a bit absently. His gaze was on the entrance to the main building of Veran Hall, where many “teachers” under Landros's command stood, staring at the scene in front of them. Some of them looked a bit dazed; Quatre guessed that he hadn't been the only one deceived. In initiating the imprisonment spell, Quatre had also severed all ties extending from Landros outward to make sure he couldn't escape by any of them. The severance had, evidently, ruined several control spells.

 

Quatre regarded Landros emotionlessly. “I am calling in the local Watch. You have clearly been violating the Law of Sovereignty for at least four years, suspected to be much longer. As that law is highly regarded among magic-workers and normal humans alike, I imagine Queen Annabel's penalty for such disobedience will be harsh.” He watched rage blaze in Landros's eyes and added in a tone that caused chills to run down the spines of all who watched, “Feel fortunate that I did not take it upon myself to enact justice. Winners have less…tolerance for those who break such laws than the public does.”

 

He pivoted on his heel and stalked away from Landros toward the building, Lian following him. He glanced at the large feline in some surprise. “I'm going to get my belongings from inside.”

 

Yes, I see that.

 

“Don't reanlos hate entering human buildings?”

 

True, but I like you.

 

A small, mocking smile curved Quatre's lips, but he never stopped walking. “Because I'm a Winner?”

 

Partly. But mostly I just like you. You have a kindness I've rarely seen in humans.

 

He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as they entered the building and second and third-rate mages scrambled to get out of their way. “I am not feeling particularly kind.”

 

Not many would, after realizing you've been wasting your life for the past four years, with some ass-wipe mage draining your power away.

 

Amusement flickered in Quatre's expression. “You show a remarkable grasp of the human language and the various connotations of words,” he remarked.

 

Most of my kind consider me unseemly curious. I have long been studying your kind from a distance. Your use of certain words in certain places and situations provides endless fascination for me.

 

Quatre turned down a side corridor and proceeded to follow the walled stone path, which subtly but steadily sloped downwards. “The chamber I seek is underground,” he commented to Lian. “You may be in for some discomfort.”

 

As are you, he pointed out.

 

“True, but I have had practice tolerating it. You have not.”

 

He reached the end of the corridor and opened the door the stood before them, revealing a small chamber, completely enclosed. A low bed with plain white linens stood in one corner; a rough-hewn dresser stood opposite the bed. There was no fireplace, or decoration of any kind.

 

Rather plain, Lian observed. This is your room?

 

“Was.” Quatre walked over to the bed and knelt, groping under it. He pulled out a small wooden box and opened it.

 

What is that? Lian asked, making his way to Quatre's side curiously.

 

“Just a few bits and pieces of my childhood,” Quatre answered absently, almost sadly, fingering the few small trinkets within the box. A small knife enchanted to unlock any lock and cut any bind. A leather-bound book filled with old tales he had loved when he was small. A delicate emerald hanging from a simple silver chain. A bracelet strung with rare crystal blue beads from the far northern forests. A beautifully-carved mahogany wolf that fit in the palm of his hand. He hadn't looked at the contents of the wooden box in four years, had forgotten the box was even there.

 

The reanlos sniffed curiously at the carved wolf. Quite a bit of power put into that, isn't there?

 

Quatre shrugged. “Yes, I've felt the power, but it's not a magic I can use or tap into. This little carving's been in my family for years. No one I knew had any idea of the wolf's purpose, or where it might have come from.”

 

No one you knew, Lian repeated. Do you recall much about the Winner clan?

 

Quatre heard the intense curiosity in his voice, and smiled crookedly. “My parents were caught in the attack on the Winner home. I was raised by an elderly great-aunt who wanted little to do with the world outside her garden, and rarely encountered other relatives. If you are fishing for information on the remaining Winners, I'm afraid I can't help you.”

 

And it doesn't help that you were trapped in this place when you were only fourteen, Lian said thoughtfully, picking the thought out of his head. What were you doing traveling alone when you were only fourteen?

 

“My aunt had died some months before, and I was looking for a school to study magic.” Quatre paused and gave Lian a narrow-eyed stare. “Can you turn off that ability of yours to hear my every thought?”

 

No.

 

Quatre sighed, and set the wooden box on the bed. He went to the dresser and began pulling out various articles of clothing and sorting through them. “I'm curious,” he said with his back to Lian. “Why were you so angry when Landros attempted to control me? We are practically strangers, yet you fought for me as though we were the greatest of friends.”

 

You are a Winner, Lian said, as though the answer were obvious. No Winner should be under the control of another.

 

“I gathered that,” he said patiently. “I still don't understand why it's so important to you.”

 

Lian paused a moment, then said, You were kind to me.

 

He turned to face the feline, raising his eyebrows. “That's it?”

 

Lian regarded her. How much do you know of my kind?

 

“Not a whit,” he said matter-of-factly. “The first I ever heard of the reanlos was this afternoon. My education in the many types of magical creatures is very limited, and I am rather behind, as you can see.”

 

Ah, Lian said, as though something very puzzling had been cleared up. Then I must educate you, seeing as you know my full name.

 

“What's your full name got to do with anything?” Quatre asked, puzzled, as he turned back to sorting his clothing.

 

Reanlos are naturally immune to all forms of human magic, as I demonstrated in the fight. However, should we give our full names to a human, that immunity no longer applies when dealing with that human, as the giving of our name renders a connection between the two.

 

Quatre whirled about to stare at Lian. “You gave me your full name, knowing it would render you vulnerable to my power?”

 

Yes.

 

He stared at him, bewildered by the simple answer, then something else hit him. “I spoke your full name in front of Landros. Are you vulnerable to his attacks now?”

 

It doesn't work that way. You may speak my full name out loud as much as you please. The vulnerability only occurs when I initiate the bond.

 

He continued to stare at Lian. “Why in the name of the Dark Lord's Seven Hells would you initiate the bond in the first place?”

 

It is done very rarely, he admitted. I am the first of my kind to do so in almost three hundred years. I think.

 

“You think,” he echoed dazedly. “Tell me, do your kind consider you…ummm…”

 

Eccentric? Mad? He sounded amused. I've heard those words once or twice.

 

“Lovely,” Quatre murmured. “So you just…decided on impulse to…bond with me.”

 

Not impulse, he corrected. Instinct. I sensed something about you and decided that I was going to become your friend.

 

“Okaaay, then,” Quatre muttered, deciding that he agreed with the rest of Lian's kind.

 

I resent that thought.

 

He glared at him. “If you can't turn off that ability to hear my thoughts, will you at least make an attempt to ignore them? You see, there's something humans generally like - it's called privacy.”

 

But I hear such interesting things in your mind, Lian protested innocently. I am always seeking to expand my education in the ways of your kind, you know.

 

Quatre pulled a carry-sack out of a corner with a sigh. “I'm not so certain I'm the right person for you to study. My aunt always told me I had odd ways, even for a Winner. Perhaps I'm just as eccentric to my kind as you seem to be to yours.”

 

Then we make the perfect pair, he pointed out.

 

There was something in his tone that made Quatre look up from stuffing clothing into the carry-sack.

 

Lian regarded him. You have nowhere in particular to go, correct?

 

“…No, not really.”

 

Then travel with me, he invited. You know little of the world outside of this hall since you've been stuck here for so long, and I can educate you in the ways of various magical creatures.

 

Quatre hesitated, certain words echoing in his head, yet not wanting to make a commitment to anything so soon.

 

Lian cocked his head sharply to one side. Oh, that's right, he commented. The law of awakening. I'm responsible for you anyway - at least until you can fend for yourself with your abilities. We should ascertain just what your level of magical knowledge is.

 

Lian's matter-of-fact acceptance of the command the calm, emotionless voice had issued was a little reassuring to Quatre. “That…law, it's a recognized one, then?”

 

Not among humans, he responded. The law of awakening is part of the laws of wild magic.

 

“Wild magic?”

 

The laws of nature, if you will. The laws the creatures of magic adhere to.

 

Quatre blinked. “Oh. I didn't know there were such laws.”

 

Not many humans do, even among mages. It's not generally known knowledge.

 

He blinked again. “Oh.” He seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

 

Lian gave him an amused look. So, you will be traveling with me. I have a great deal of wanderlust. I hope you don't mind.

 

Quatre stared at him for a while longer, trying to assimilate everything that had happened within the past few hours, then half-smiled. “No. I don't mind. Will you…can you teach me how to use my magic, since my coming here was rather a waste of time?”

 

Lian gave him the impression of raising an eyebrow at him, even though cats don't have eyebrows. You already know how to use your power. What you lack is knowledge about specifics.

 

Quatre tilted his head to one side. “So will you…teach me the specifics?”

 

Lian regarded him a moment, then nodded easily. Of course.

 

Quatre let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. “So.”

 

So.

 

Quatre let out a sound that was half laugh, half sigh. “So where will we be going, O master of mine?”

 

NO. The word resounded with an unexpected loudness in his mind. I am not your master, nor are you mine. If you are to travel with me, that is the first thing you must understand.

 

Quatre studied him a moment, then smiled - a full, open smile of something approaching relief. “May we travel as friends?”

 

The giant cat gave him a superior look. Finally, you get the idea.