Baleful Wings (Dragon's Dogma Fanfiction)

Chapter 47 : Restoration

"Ser Lyon! You're alive!"
The pretty-faced knight limped out of the fortress, supported by Edward.
"I dodged, just in time," he said, smiling briskly.
"Where are the rest?" Asked Arya, her hands rested on her hips as all the other soldiers cleaned up the wartorn towers. Gerik and Valter walked up, with slightly beaten garments.
"We helped out in the battlements," said Gerik, coughing a bit. "Where's Orson?"
Arya remained silent.
"He was killed," inserted Ceres, abruptly. "No doubt by severe organ damage and internal bleeding."
The Arisen slowly pinched the skim between her eyebrows. Gerik lowered his eyes in lament.
"Franz and Rennac were assigned to a much more delicate task," said Edward, now sitting on the ground leaned against the stone entryway. "Guiding my dear mother back to Meloire, and more importantly, this." He handed a peculiar piece of parchment to the Arisen, a detailed breakdown of further Salvation movements.
Mercedes walked slowly past, with a crestfallen aura about her.
"Ah, 'tis the princess," observed Ceres.
The Marten heiress's eyebrows flinched in a way that showed she genuinely didn't notice them.
Arya felt like there was a rock in her thoat when she saw that Mercedes didn't have her sword. "Mercedes, wh--?"
"He is gone," replied the princess.
The Arisen choked on her words a bit, searching for how to express the inquiry she had. Something horrible must have happened, but every fiber of Arya's being was afraid to ask.
"Yet," Mercedes spoke with a slight crack in her voice, "I could not best him in fair combat."
"But, you were famous for many a victorious duel--"
"Falsities, the lot of them!" Mercedes raised her voice with fists at her sides. "All paid by my lord father." The words shattered Arya's heart as they escaped the princess's lips. "I pretended not to know it, but in my heart I've always known I was weak. This only confirms it."
"Then just fight real battles." Ceres spoke frankly, biting casually into an apple. Arya tried to silently gesture for Ceres to shut her mouth, but the cutthroat motion was lost on the pawn. "They're riddled about Gransys e'er since the Dragon's descent."
"That, I shall do," said Mercedes, resuming her leave of the Windbluff Tower. "After I get some rest, of course."

Stepping foot in Gran Soren, only to slink back to her room and into her moonlit bed, Arya felt an annoyed tingle about her body. Not just the full-grown adult woman sleeping with their back against hers - no, Ceres's weird clinginess is something the Arisen's gotten used to. There was the realization that since arriving in Gransys, Arya's been watched and every step she made there was always a silent predator one step ahead - the Elysion. Even after a Commander stopped by to thank her for her actions with a fancily-wrapped bouquet, the young girl felt hopeless at the thought of it all. Recounting all the strange coincidences and realizing they were all orchestrated made her feel weak, like a mere puppet caught up in fate's own thread. There seemed to be only one thing that she could do, that no-one could forbode upon, and it was made clear to her until the embrace of the night sky.

"Arisen, you really slept in today." Ceres was the type to silently stare faithfully until Arya awoke.
"Of course, my dear," responded a stretching Arisen, followed by a careless flop back onto the bed. "And you still insist on treating me like your master."
"But.. You are my master. You've mastery of all pawns."
Arya turned her back to the confused Pawn, sliding the sheet slightly over her chin.
Ceres took a seat next to her on the bed, looking at her master, chest swollen with adoration and amazement as always. "Don't we have aught to take care of? Sunlight is a welcome boon."
"We do," replied Arya, not bothering to turn around."Today we'll focus on rest."

Rest proved to be a strange thing to Ceres, who was in one way or another always on the move. They casually traversed Gran Soren, refreshing their armor and supplies, all while completely ignoring all the side-eyed glares and suddenly-silenced conversations upon notice of her presence. Arya was amazed at how even though she didn't age, her hair still managed to grow long and wiley. It didn't matter much after leaving Devyn's Salon, as her hair was now back to a neat medium length - short enough to stay out of her face yet long enough to look feminine. Ceres didn't too much care for a new coiffure. With hair, skin and nails replenished and freshly tended to, the Arisen caught all of her enemies off guard, proving that she was not defeated or even fazed by the antics of the shadowy society, Salvation.

Endless combat and tireless travel built Arya into a true fighter, capable of withstanding the mightiest of foes and the most unforgiving wilderness. It would've never seemed like days of rest would be what she needed to become complete. Leaving Gran Soren's gates was the best version of what used to be a lowly street orphan curled up next to a building. The Arisen displayed pride when she walked, her every tread fueled by the many lives lost during the age of the Wyrm, and how many people have been fooled into joining the twisted ranks of Salvation only to lose their lives to their own comrades. The time for her destiny was nigh, and like the graceful beating of baleful wings, it called her. There was only one place left for the Elysion to hide, from all his tricks, and all the lies sewn deep into the fabrics of Gransys there was but one place for him to hovel and she me against humanity - The Greatwall. Even if she didn't find him today, tomorrow, or the day after she planned to wait because like all rats he would have to show his face sooner or later.