Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time Fan Fiction ❯ Eye of Apris ❯ Part VII ( Chapter 7 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Eye of Apris - Part VII
by Mishaela

Disclaimer: Most of the characters represented here are property of SquareEnix. I'm just borrowing them for a little while to appease the muses who have taken me hostage. This story is homo-erotic in nature: if you're not a fan of yaoi/slash or you're too young to read this, turn back before it's too late.

* * *
Upon his return to Kirlsa, there was no cheery fire waiting for Albel when he arrived at his estate. He'd taken great care to travel at night, unseen, and didn't stop at Arias at all. The swordsman had, instead, traveled around the riverfront town through the Bequerel mountain paths. Since he knew the Kirlsa Mines so well, he'd taken that route to return home.

It wasn't so late that Fayt should have been abed already.

Albel searched around, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but found little to assuage his sudden trepidation. Finally, he walked up to the doors and found one open just slightly. The commander gripped his sword and gave it a push.

All the evidence was inside. A struggle had taken place, he could tell as he walked in. Fayt was, by no means, a pushover and the damage to his home showed this. However, seeing as the house was dark and empty, he had been overtaken.

Why hadn't someone alerted him about this? The coals in the fireplace were at least a half day cold. Surely his servant would have seen something and notified the guards. For that matter, where were the guards? Albel growled and turned around, ready to go get some answers, when his eyes alighted on the back of the door he hadn't opened.

There was parchment there, held in place by a dagger. The dark haired man ripped it down and looked at it, his red eyes reading over the lines quickly. His fury only grew more severe as he did so.

“Lord Nox,
We have your consort. If you desire to see him alive again, you'll come alone to the Kirlsa Training Facility. Any attempt to alert the guards or call in your Black Brigade will seal his death.
Do as we say and no harm will come to him.”

Albel crumpled the parchment in his fist with an angry snarl and started pacing. There was a fear in him that Fayt would do something to get himself killed, but he let his anger overshadow that. As he paced, he gave more consideration to the words that threatened both him and the teen.

Then, he stopped cold and unwrapped the paper again, rereading it.

“Consort...”

He looked up when he heard a noise from the upstairs rooms. Albel's own entry had been silent, save for his pacing. He knew, however, that any sound he might have made would not have carried to the upper floors. Stealthily, he went up the stairs to investigate.

A light spilled from under the door of his master bedroom, drawing a frown. He wouldn't have seen it from the outside where he'd been, Albel realized, because it was at the back of the estate house. Something crashed to the floor in his bedchamber, shattering, and he heard the voice of his servant.

That only fueled his rage again and he kicked the door open, catching the man in the middle of his attempt to rob Albel's possessions.

“I should have known,” he sneered at the man, striding across the room. Once Albel was in reach, he caught his traitorous servant by the throat with his artificial hand and hefted him from the floor. “You betrayed me,” he ground out between his teeth.

The man struggled, trying to get air to flow past the grip, but found that impossible. His face began to turn an angry shade of purple. Still, he moved his lips in the attempt to speak.

“There were only two people who knew about Fayt being my consort and I know the other would not have spoke of it to anyone else. Had you known better, you would have realized that it was all a ruse.” Albel studied the suffocating man's face and the fear in his eyes. “I never made any official decrees, but still you squealed to the traitors. Was it for money? Did I not pay you enough, you pathetic little worm?”

He released his grip and let the man drop to the floor. “I'm not going to kill you... yet,” Albel told his thieving servant. “But, should I find Fayt in any condition other than what I left him in...”

“I had no choice,” the man coughed out, looking up at his employer from his kneeling position. “They would have killed me!”

“How ironic,” Albel said, not a single shred of sympathy in his voice. “Because if anything has happened to Fayt, I'm going to do the same.” He knelt down on one knee by the man, his very presence imposing and threatening. “If you try to run, I'll find you. No matter where you go. I'll hunt you down like the maggot you are and I'll crush you without a second thought.”

As the servant crawled away from him, Albel let his brain work on the situation. There was no designated time specified in the note and no one other than his own soldiers and his traitorous manservant knew of his return. He could, conceivably, get a bit of aid before he went to the meeting place.

There was only one person he could trust in this. Someone who held his lover as a close and personal friend. While Albel and she didn't share that kind of bond, they did respect each other as equals. He rose, working this new plan in his head, only barely aware of the betraying worm exiting his chamber.

Aquios wasn't all that far away.

* * *
Albel knew that his appearance would surprise the Aquarian woman. Nel had no reason to expect a visit from him at any time. Though, he deemed the circumstances to be enough to enlist her aid. The commander was not a covert man nor was he well versed in the art of stealth.

He was a man who preferred to confront his enemies head on.

When he was led into the small sitting room, he courteously afforded her a polite nod of his head. He was about to ask her for help. Even with his stubborn pride, he wasn't about to anger her before his mouth ever opened. She indicated he should take a seat across from her, but declined with an abrupt shake of his head.

"What brings you all this way, Albel?" Nel Zelphyr was still somewhat pale and obviously weakened from the illness she'd been suffering. She was in no condition to give him the assistance he needed from her.

"It's... about Fayt." Albel wasn't sure how to broach the situation. His hesitation as he considered his options was short-lived. He would be honest with Nel. He tossed the rumpled letter down on the table between them, his voice little better than a growl. "Some idiotic rebels are trying to rekindle the war between our kingdoms. In their stupidity, they thought that Fayt would make a good bargaining chip in their favor. I suspect that they're going to try to force my hand and make me help them."

Nel rose slowly from her seat. "They kidnapped Fayt?"

"Yes. I'm to meet them at the Kirlsa Training Facility if he's to be freed again." Albel averted his gaze, feeling again inadequate. "It was because of me that he's in this position. I had planned to confront the worms head on-"

"And hoped that I would be able to extract him while they were busy with you," Nel finished for him, nodding her head in response. "A sound plan," she praised, "and no one would expect such a thing from you considering your preference for personal confrontation." Her hand rose to her chin as she gave the idea some thought.

"As you can see, Albel, I'm in no shape to go... but..."

Albel deflated a bit, even despite knowing the truth himself. His scarlet gaze returned to the woman. "But?"

"Tynave and Farleen would have no reservations or objections to helping rescue Fayt. He did the same for them, after all," Nel said after a bit of thinking. "I'll pass on their new orders immediately. Go ahead and get yourself prepared for the journey."

"It's probably best for them to travel separately from me. A trio will draw more attention than one person," the swordsman cautioned the Crimson Blade leader.

Nel only smiled at him. "I never said they would accompany you. Travel at your normal pace, as you would any other time. My subordinates will infiltrate the facility as soon as they arrive."

* * *
It was barely four days after he left Peterny when Albel stood outside his old training facility. The Black Brigade had been moved since the peace talks began, but the building itself was still in good repair. He dismounted from his lum, patting the beast's neck, and then walked for the main doors.

There was no surprise when the wide portal parted at his approach and he never slowed his determined pace. He remembered the two women who had, hopefully, already infiltrated the complex. The swordsman had to take some faith in the idea that they'd become better at fighting than they were when he'd confronted and defeated them.

If he didn't, it was over before it began.

Somehow, Albel was not surprised to see his old subordinate, Shelby the Heavy Handed, leading the group of rebels. He gave a derisive snort when he saw the other man. It explained a great many things.

“Long time no see, Albel,” the imposing figure said. Shelby was flanked by several of his guard. The merest of glances said that there were individuals from almost every branch of Airyglyph's military in attendance.

Albel put the flesh hand on his hip, lifting his clawed hand and closing it into a fist. “Don't talk down to me like we're equals, maggot,” he said curtly. “Where's the boy?”

“Your little consort is safe,” Shelby told him. “For the moment, at least. If you become uncooperative, that will change.”

“Idiot,” the Black Brigade commander said and rolled his eyes. “Did you really think I'd come here to negotiate the return of some stupid boy who happens to prefer sleeping in my bed?” He gave the rebels a pitying look. “If so, then you've really overestimated his worth to me.”

Shelby sat forward on his throne, glaring at the swordsman. “Then why are you here, Albel?”

“Because, you eye-sore maggot,” the slim commander said in an increasingly condescending tone, “he just so happens to be important to the king. I can't believe your stupidity, Shelby.” Albel straightened, locking his deadly crimson glare on the former soldier. “Now, if you don't let me see him, I'm going to start killing your dolls.”

The rebel leader snapped his fingers and two soldiers came out with an unconscious blue-haired form between them. Albel studied the teen, noting at first that he was breathing as he swept his gaze along the slender body. His irritation became a murderous rage when he saw bandages around both of the younger man's ankles.

“What did you do to him?” he asked, barely able to keep his voice even. He had his suspicions.

Shelby seemed unconcerned as he waved the question off. “He tried to escape,” he told Albel non-chalantly. “So, we had to hobble him. We made sure not to keep him from being useful for you.”

It wasn't an uncommon thing, really. Hell, Albel had even given such orders himself when prisoners of war proved to be more than a little difficult. But, to have it done to Fayt... worse still, both ankles... Albel knew that it was excruciatingly painful. He'd heard the screams of the ones who'd been given the same treatment. Now, his unconscious state and the carrying made more sense.

When the soldiers moved the teen out of sight again, Albel had to trust in both himself and the women who had come to rescue the boy. He knew, in all likelihood, that Shelby had no intention of letting Fayt go. So long as he'd thought the young man was useful in securing Albel's assistance, he'd keep him under lock and key.

These thoughts angered him and he drew his sword. “It's time to teach you traitorous worms a lesson,” he snarled out.

A few of the soldiers around him moved in to disarm Albel, but he didn't give them that luxury. His single-edged blade swept in a trailing arc around him, an explosive force blasting them all back. “You'll be the first example, Shelby. If you surrender peacefully, I may even let you beg for your worthless life.”

“Kill the engineer,” Shelby shouted as he reached for his mace. Albel didn't let him hoist it before knocking the man over in the extra-large chair with a single Air Slash attack.

The swordsman rushed forward, the tip of his blade leading, and sank it into his former subordinate's chest between the armored plates. Blood oozed out from the links of armor, dribbling down the man's torso. Albel looked at him dispassionately. There was no mercy in the crimson gaze, only a rage that Shelby had never been exposed to before.

“You're dead,” was all Albel said before ripping the weapon back out and turning to deal with the rest of the soldiers in the room. Not a single one of them thought to beg for leniency. Albel appreciated that.

It saved time.

He worked methodically through the lower hallways, slaughtering the traitors as he found them. Eventually, he came across Tynave and Farleen. They were rushing to get Fayt out of the complex. He slowed down as he approached the two Aquarian women.

“How is he?” Albel asked them, his crimson gaze locked on the motionless form between them.

“Still unconscious,” Tynave answered him. “We were going to give him a potion to keep him asleep, but he hasn't woken up yet so we didn't think it'd be a good idea.”

Farleen looked at the commander of the Black Brigade. “I think they might have drugged him when they cut his tendons.”

Albel nodded at her and then reached for the young man. “Here, I'll take him. You two get the hell out... and tell your leader I appreciate her help.”

“He'll slow you down,” Tynave said as Albel lifted the teen in both arms. “We'll make sure you have a clear path to the exit.”

That surprised the swordsman and he blinked at both women. “Thank you,” he told them in an uncharacteristic display of gratitude.

“Our healers can fix his ankles,” Tynave said before moving ahead of him. “After we leave here, we should get to Aquios quickly. We've got lums waiting for us outside.”

Albel appreciated their foresight in the matter and quickly hastened after the women. They had, indeed, bettered their fighting skills, he noticed as they rushed along. The three of them broke for the double doors that had been the way Albel went in. He could hear shouting above and called towards the other two. “Hurry and get the lums!” He knew what was, likely, waiting above their heads and would not allow every witness to what had happened inside to die. More important than anything was that someone who knew what was going on got away.

"Archers! Fire!"

Snarling, Albel turned around with the unconscious Fayt in his arms. He would face this death defiantly even if he couldn't draw his sword. It was fortunate that the Aquarian women were far enough away that they wouldn't be struck by the rain of arrows speeding towards the two men.

However, before those feathered spines of death found their mark, there was an earth-shaking impact that threw Albel from his feet. When he looked up, through the floating dust, a massive dragon stood between he, Fayt, and the archers. The gargantuan reptile bore the same coloring as Lyvithia, but she wasn't nearly the same immense size.

"Strap the boy to my back," the she-dragon said, her serpentine neck craning around to look down at the commander.

Albel did as commanded, looping Fayt into the rider's harness that wound around the muscular body. "Aquios has the best healers," he shouted to her after Fayt was secure and he was doing the same for himself.

"As you wish," came the reply before the female drake leapt into the air and snapped out her wings to catch wind, lifting them all aloft.

Looking back down, the swordsman's eyes glittered in rage at the rebel soldiers below. His head turned to face the she-dragon. "The wounds are staunched… Fayt will live… but I want those moronic bastards otherwise."

The female dragon almost seemed to smile. "Oh, I readily concur." Her wings banked, bringing them back around, and Albel felt her great lungs take in oxygen. Part of his mind twinged at what he knew was coming, but his resolution deemed that he would watch the demise of those who had called him out.

She strafed, the gout of flame bellowing out burning away armor and flesh of the warriors scattering below to find shelter. That done, she turned again towards the sky and beat her massive wings to gain altitude. "Forgive my late arrival, Lord Nox, but I got here as quickly as I could."

"Did Lyvithia send you?" Albel asked, nearly shouting to be heard as the wind stole his words.

"No. Lady Vell's scouts discovered suspicious activity and I was the one who arrived first." The female drake pumped her wings for more speed. “When I saw you, your safety became priority. As the eldest, I must preserve my matron's honor.”

"You're Anvari?"

"I am."

Albel sat back in the harness, too stunned to reply. He knew who she was because he'd have been her rider had he actually become one of the members of the Dragon Brigade. How ironic that she serve him now, so many years after his prideful failure in the Ascension of Flame.

"I owe you for this, Anvari," Albel said, looking down at Fayt's pale, drawn face.

The great drake's head wound around, her gaze locking on the commander. "You owe me nothing, Lord Nox. While my father thinks little of the pact, I hold my matron's honor in the highest esteem. Because of that, you and your consort will live to die another time."

Frowning at the last of her words, Albel was about to retort. "He's not my-"

"Save your breath and lies," she said sternly, still watching the swordsman. "He carries your scent too strongly, Albel. If you wish to deny my words, then do so… but not when I can smell the truth at more than a thousand yards downwind."

Albel clamped his mouth shut at the chastising, looking off in the distance when something caught his attention. He nodded towards the leader of the Dragon Brigade as she flew past them and saluted the man. Later, he told himself. He would meet her again later and thank the woman for her miraculous timing.

---

Continued in Part VIII