Chapter Text
Terca Lumireis.
For a millenia humans had relied on technology called blastia to provide them with energy and protection from the beasts and monsters that roamed the lands, unaware that its use on a global scale created disturbances in the aer that would bring about a cataclysm called the Adephagos. Eventually it appeared, filling half the sky. A fledging guild, Brave Vesperia, hatched a desperate plan to turn the world’s blastia cores into new beings, called spirits, to save the world from being devoured. It meant abandoning the technology that had kept people safe for so long, but with the threat looming above them being undeniable, Brave Vesperia united the empire and the guilds who all worked tirelessly on developing new, safer, alternatives.
It has been a year now since the Adephagos was defeated. People continue adapting to this new world of spirits, but in Nordoplica, within the bowels of the coliseum, there stood two who hadn’t yet fully let go of their past. Gauche tapped her sword rhythmically against her thigh, while her sister Droite paced like a caged animal bouncing on the balls of her feet. The roar of the crowd reached them in their ready room, a muffled tremor through the stone walls. Gauche looked at her sister’s energetic pre-match display, but saw through it as the fragile façade it was.
Pride had become their master, leading them to challenge the heroes of the new world, Brave Vesperia, again and again, throwing themselves against an unbreakable wall of strength. And again and again they had been defeated. Droite had always been the more lively, impulsive of the pair. Gauche, the more level-headed and responsible one, had become tired of seeing that child-like, irrepressible energy drain with every failure. But it wasn’t within either of them to just give up.
Gauche made a decision. A gamble to let the sands decide their fate. Todays match wasn’t a chaotic melee. It was two on two against Estelle and Judith. A fair fight with nothing and no one to blame but themselves if they lost.
Gauche walked over to Droite, placing a hand on her shoulder to still her sister’s nervous pacing. “Droite, listen,” she said, looking unwaveringly into her eyes. “Let’s go out there and give it everything we have. But, if we lose today, in a fair fight against that pampered princess and flirtatious Krityan, we… we accept it.”
Droite’s emerald eyes stared into Gauche’s magenta, widening as she asked, “what do you mean?”
“I mean we... we move on. We leave Nordopolica and find something else.”
Droite’s own pride stung a bit at the implication, but as she searched her sister’s face she too felt the weariness, but also the love. Her trust in Gauche’s judgment was, as it had always been, absolute. If Gauche thought it was best, then so be it; this would be their final roll of the dice.
As they heard their names being called to the arena, Droite embraced Gauche in a tight hug, two sisters against the world. “Then let’s make this one count, sis, okay?” Gauche responded with a small, determined nod.
They marched down a long stone corridor, their determined poses mirroring the other, Gauche with her red helix pigtails and Droite with her spiky blonde tails. They each wore grey shirts, dark grey vests, and yellow neckties, but Gauche with a pink collar and skirt under hers while Droite always donned a black skirt with some metal beading.
They stepped out onto the sands, the sound of the crowd crashing over them. They tried to ignore the jeers and leers although it was inescapable. Most of the spectators expected them to be trounced. A few, Gauche was aware - especially those who knew their past - were eagerly anticipating their humiliation. She narrowed her focus on the two figures already waiting for them.
Estelle, the pink haired princess in white and gold, met them with an encouraging smile and a small bow. “Let’s have a good, clean fight, okay?” she said. Her sincerity would have somehow felt less mocking if it wasn’t genuine.
Judith, on the other hand – the purple haired and barely dressed Krityan warrior – was definitely mocking. She leaned on her spear, a playful smirk on her lips. “Don’t look so glum,” she told them. “And do try to make it interesting. Everyone will be disappointed if it’s over too quickly.”
Gauche and Droite had no comebacks today. They stood ready with their swords, waiting for the bell to signal the start of the match. The instant it did they launched themselves at their opponents, Gauche engaging Estelle while Droite charged at Judith.
Gauche’s blade clanged on Estelle’s shield. She danced around the princess, swiping and poking, trying to find an opening, to overwhelm her with speed and precise strikes. But Estelle had been trained by knights and fought with an intensity and focus that belied her innocent appearance. Her footwork was flawless, her defense a fortress. With each blocked or parried attack Gauche’s desperation grew. She poured more and more energy into her assault, but sill could feel her stamina draining, her lungs starting to burn.
Estelle caught her with a shield bash, Gauche staggering back trying to shake off the haze as the princess started to advance. Sensing her opponent’s exhaustion Estelle became more aggressive, her bashes and strikes from her sword more frequent. It was taking all of Gauche’s physical and mental effort to dodge and parry, yet step by step she was forced back, her angry grunts of exertion starting to sound more like plaintive whimpers. Soon Gauche’s back hit the unforgiving stone wall of the arena. She was trapped, any hope she had of victory slipping away. Gauche summoned all her remaining energy into one, last, desperate lunge. In one motion Estelle deflected it and slammed the flat face of her shield into Gauche’s chest, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs as she crumpled, her sword skittering away.
Droite shrieked, “Gauche!” Seeing her sister fall instantly brought on a fit of rage as she redoubled her assault on Judith. But Judith was a whirlwind, moving with fluid grace, her spear a blur as she almost contemptuously parried and countered Droite’s furious, clumsy, attacks.
“You’re only wearing yourself out, dear,” the Krityan warrior chided as she easily sidestepped another lunge. With an elegant spin she brought the butt of her spear down in a precise arc that connected with the back of Droite’s head. Droite was unconscious before she hit the sand.
The arena roared. The herald’s voice boomed that the winners, by knockout, were Estelle and Judith.
*****
The walk back to the ready room was a hard one. Droite’s head was throbbing, Gauche nursing her bruised ribs. They leaned on each other for support, eventually stumbling into the cool quiet of the stone room, the sound of the arena a mocking hum in their ears as they shut the heavy door behind them.
The moment they were sealed in, finally alone, Gauche collapsed onto a bench, a choked sob escaping her lips soon followed by tears freely carving paths through the grime on her cheeks. She felt like she had gambled everything on this fight, and had utterly lost.
Droite sat and wrapped her arms around her, whispering, “it’s okay, sis,” although her own voice trembled. “It’s okay.”
The door scraped open again. The sisters quickly straightened themselves, wiping their faces with their sleeves as a small figure with brown hair stormed in wearing a loose red coat and dark torn tights. “Damn you, Karol!” She hissed, her face red, “just stand still and take it!”
Nan. One of the Hunting Blades. Gauche and Droite had each faced her before and knew that despite her small stature, she was incredibly strong, as evidenced by the huge crescent blade she carried which had to weigh more than she did. Like them, she seemed to have a fixation on challenging Brave Vesperia, though her focus was really only on the young guild leader.
After a moment fuming, Nan seemed to finally notice the other two. Despite their best efforts, the evidence of their tears was plain to see. “What’s eating you two?” She asked, her tone clipped.
“We’re… just tired,” Gauche managed.
“Right,” Nan snorted, “tired.” She looked them over; as a warrior she was keenly aware that the hollow, haunted looks were not merely physical exhaustion. For a moment her hard expression softened as she said, “I’m not going to be seeing you around here much anymore, am I?”
Gauche hung her head, admitting, “we’ve decided it’s time to move on.”
“Well,” Nan sighed, her usual almost perpetually angry demeanor returning. “Good. If you ask me, you two deserve all the thrashings you’ve been getting, after what you did.”
Gauche looked up stony eyed at her, “what exactly do you think we did?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know! You were Leviathan’s Claw! You worked for Yeager! You helped Alexei bring about the Adephagos. A lot of people died because of that thing.”
Gauche and Droite hung their heads, unable to hide their pain or their shame. They hadn’t known. All Gauche and Droite had done was been loyal to the man who had given them a life. They’d helped him escape from danger, they’d relayed his orders. They hadn’t questioned. They were sure Yeager hadn’t known the full extent of the horror Alexei would unleash either, but in the end the closest thing they ever had to a father chose death, leaving them alone to face all… this.
“You going to say you were just following orders?” Nan scoffed, “that’s not an excuse. It makes you as weak mentally as you are physically if you can’t ever think for yourselves…” Nan’s rant went on for another minute, Gauche and Droite just gritting their teeth and bearing it. They were still sore from their fight; rising to Nan’s verbal assault on them would almost certainly just lead to further humiliation. And, maybe, they thought some of what she said might have been true.
After what felt like it had been a very long lecture, Nan seemed to finally exhaust herself, flashing a look at the defeated fighters that might have been pity. “Well,” she huffed, “Good luck out there, I suppose.”
And with that she turned and left, leaving Gauche and Droite in a thoughtful silence.
*****
Soon after Gauche and Droite emerged into the fading afternoon light, wandering aimlessly, adrift in the bustling streets of Nordopolica. They halted as a man was flung out of a tavern right in front them, reeking of cheap ale and piteously moaning on the pavement. Most passers by gave him a wide berth, but Gauche rolled her eyes and tried to help the man up.
But then he looked up at her and Droite, his bleary eyes filling with contempt. Gauche recognised him; he had been a low-level enforcer in Leviathan’s Claw. All swagger, little substance. “Yeager’s pets,” he venomously spat, “saw you fight today. Hah! If you could that a fight. What a couple of weak, pathetic, losers.”
Droite’s eyes flashed with renewed fire, her muscles tensing as she retorted, “losers?! You want to take a look in a mirror!”
Gauche’s arm shot out, trying to hold her sister back. “Droite, no!”
“Just let me at him!”
“He’s drunk,” Gauche’s voice was low but urgent, her eyes darting around the street. “He’s not worth it. And besides, you know we’re on thin ice with the guilds; brawling in the street would be just the excuse someone needs to lock us up for good.”
Droite’s shoulders slumped, knowing that Gauche was right. They were vulnerable here. As they walked away the man sneered with a harsh, ugly, laugh. “That’s right! Run away! Only thing you two are good at!” They ignored it, holding on to each other and continuing on until his taunts were a memory.
This had become their existence now. Everyone saw them as either criminals or failures. They had no friends. No allies. Only each other, and their pride, although the later had just led to them being beaten again and again. It was no way they could spend the rest of their lives.
Later, as twilight painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, they sat on the edge of the docks, their legs dangling over the water. The gentle lapping of the waves was a soothing rhythm in the quiet as they stared out over the vast, endless ocean, their future uncertain.
With a small voice, Droite asked, “so what do we do now, Gauche?”
Gauche was quiet for a while, watching the first stars appear. “I don’t know, Droite,” she eventually admitted. “We can’t go to the empire; the knights still have a warrant for us. And everywhere else…” she sighed. They had come to expect abuse like Nan’s and that drunk’s pretty much every day they were in a city.
“Maybe,” Droite dreamed, “we could find a little town some place, where no-one knows us.”
“Maybe,” Gauche thought. Although they hadn’t won any tournaments or titles, they had at least made some gald fighting in the arena. There was one small thing they knew they would always do whenever they had the chance; one small piece of Yeager’s legacy they knew was worth carrying on. “In any case, let’s go to Capua Torim first,” Gauche said, “visit the orphanage. We’ll figure out the rest from there.”
Droite grinned affectionately, pulling herself and her sister to their feet. “All right, Gauche. To Torim it is.”
They walked together away from the docks to spend one last night at the inn and collect their meager belongings, unaware that from a street corner a tiny cloaked figure was watching them.
*****
They stopped at the tavern adjacent to their inn for a drink and meal, finding a secluded corner that offered them some anonymity. In contrast to the quiet contemplation they’d enjoyed at the docks, this place was thick with the scent of sweat and ale and the cacophony of sailors, merchants, and fighters from the coliseum. Gauche found herself staring into her mug at her own tired reflection, while Droite fidgeted and drummed her fingers anxiously on the table. They were each like caged birds; trapped and acutely aware that danger might not be far away.
But into their little bubble of despair a new voice intruded, clear and sharp, cutting through the hum of the tavern. “You’re Gauche and Droite, right?”
They looked up. It was a girl – couldn’t have been older than twelve – with shoulder length light blonde hair and bright blue eyes, smudged pale skin, wearing a dirty sky-blue tunic under a tattered dark blue cloak with the hood down and scuffed, worn, boots. In short, she looked like an urchin. “My name is Erin,” she said, “and I have a proposition for you.”
Gauche raised an eyebrow. “Just Erin?” She asked.
The girl looked at her, feigning a pout. “Is it just Gauche and Droite?”
“We had other names, once,” Droite sighed a little wistfully, “a long time ago.”
“So long ago that they don’t matter,” Gauche finished.
“Anyway,” Droite sighed again, “we’re a little busy right now, kid.”
“Yeah, right,” the girl said with a knowing smile, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure you two have a real full schedule. Let me guess; moping in the evening, moping in the morning, then a nap in the afternoon so you have the energy for a good night’s mope.” By the time she was done making fun of them she had already pulled up a rickety stool and sat herself down with her elbows on the table.
Gauche and Droite shared a look, amused by the audacity at least. Honestly it was welcome change from the pity and contempt they’d become used to.
“Alright, Erin,” Gauche said with a hint of a smile, “you’ve got our attention. What is it you want?”
Erin’s voice dropped to a serious, business-like tone. “I’ve seen you fight in the arena. I want to hire you.”
“You mean,” Droite muttered bitterly, “you’ve seen us getting our asses kicked.”
With a weary sigh Gauche nodded. “Droite has a point. If you want to hire fighters there are obviously a lot of stronger ones around here.”
“Hell,” Droite said, “you could probably hire the ones who just beat us.”
“The princess and the glamazon?” Erin piped then shook her head. “I doubt I could afford them. Besides I’m not looking to fight some Giganto Monster; I just need people to take me somewhere.” She then nodded to another corner of the tavern where some musclebound rowdy and bawdy warriors were currently engaged in arm wrestling. “And do you think a girl like me would feel safe around strangers like that?”
Gauche answered quietly, “not a lot of people think we’re trustworthy either.”
“I know,” Erin met her gaze, her voice remaining firm. “I’ve heard what people about say about you. But I’ve watched you, too. You’re not bullies. I’ve not seen you take advantage of anyone weaker than yourselves. I think that you’re good people who just got mixed up in a lot of bad business.”
Erin’s honest, if perhaps a little naïve, assessment, struck a nerve in Gauche. Maybe it was just a welcome reprieve from the more venomous accusations they received on a daily basis. Droite must have felt it too, as she asked, “how will you pay us, kid? You don’t exactly look like you’re rolling in anything besides dirt.”
“I admit,” Erin sighed, “I don’t have much money. But,” she reached into a pouch on her belt, pulling out a wrapped bundle which she unwrapped on the table, “I have these.”
Gemstones. Deep and brilliant rubies and emeralds and sapphires that seemed to glow with an inner light, their value immediately apparent to the former members of Leviathan’s Claw. “Put those away!” Droite hissed, her alarmed eyes scanning the room as she quickly covered the gems. “You may be a kid, but if anyone else sees you with those you could be mugged, or worse.”
“I’m sorry,” Erin faintly blushed and mumbled as she tucked them back in her pouch. “But, now you know I’m serious.”
“Where did you get those, anyway?”
“Oh,” Erin flushed a deeper red, “I may have swiped them from a gambler. He was being a jerk to a serving girl. So, are they worth enough to hire you?”
“More than enough,” Gauche let out a long, weary, sigh, running a hand through her hair. A girl like this was going to wind up dead in a gutter sooner or later if she was left on her own. She and Droite weren’t babysitters, and yet it just wasn’t in them to abandon a child to such a fate either. Resigned, she asked, “where do you want to go?”
A look of relief washed over Erin as she sensed she was close to winning. “A place called Rosemouth,” she whispered.
“Rosemouth,” Droite tapped her chin for a moment. “I’ve heard of it. A little isolated village south of Dahngrest. Not much there.”
“It’s a community of people who want nothing to do with the politics of the guilds or the empire,” Gauche nodded. “Why would you want to go there?”
“I just… need to,” Erin said, her eyes shimmering hopefully, “please?”
The sisters shared a look; the truth was they already made their decision. “We were heading back to Tolbyccia anyway,” Droite said.
“Fine,” Gauche surrendered, “we’ll take you to Rosemouth. But no more swiping, and no talking back if we tell you do anything.”
Erin made a show of theatrically sealing her lips and sitting attentively, Gauche frowning with the certainty that she wasn’t going to keep up the obedient child act for long.