The Lost Bellator

Nine

Ignis

She stood by her word and appeared at dawn. Arlaige was sitting by his fire when she arrived and he merely pushed around the wood, causing embers to float into the air. She settled herself across from him again. Her cloak seemed to be made out of shadows.

His fire hadn't at all diminished through the night, and still burned now. He had gathered more wood, but it seemed he hadn't any use of it. The wood she had gathered yesterday had barely burnt, no doubt from whatever powers she had. He didn't care to ask, it wasn't like she would answer anyways.

She kept her hood down, now watching his movements, and after minutes of it, he finally cracked.

"If you are merely going to stare at me, you could tell me your purpose."

A snort. "My purpose?" She shifts in her cloak.

"It used to be simple. Now it is not much at all."

He raises a brow, sliding his hands closer to the fire. "You are a warrior. I thought that was your purpose."

Steely eyes meet his. He doesn't look away.

"So what if I no longer fight?" She questions, anger laced in her voice.

"I have nothing to fight for, no one to care for. There is no reason for me to fight, yet you come and ask me to for...what?"

He didn't have an answer.

"You want me to fight for the people who cast me out as a child, the people who cast me out for who I was, not for who I chose to be? For the longest time, I fought for who I thought were my people. And you know what they did to me?" She hisses, pushing herself from the ground and away from the fire. Her cloak swirled around her.

Arlaige, again, could not find words as he stared, open-mouthed, perplexed, and albeit a bit dumb-founded at the warrior before him. Her chest heaved as she reached for a tree to steady herself, the first ungraceful thing he had seen her do.

His hands were burning from where he placed them close to the fire for warming, but he barely noticed as he copied her actions and stepped past the fire, standing a mere few feet away from her.

"What? What did they do?" He asks, his voice crackling like the fire. He reaches out, a helpful hand, anything, but she moves away, leaving him to grip the cold. She turns.

Her face was set, but even she couldn't hide her own bitterness, her own resentment, the pain, the sorrow, and most of all, even though he knew she would never admit it, the guilt. This wasn't the warrior who had reigned centuries ago. This wasn't the fierce fighter in all of the legends. No, something had happened to her, something had broken her. And she had drifted away, left her own people because of it.

But her own emotions were eating her alive and he could see it, as it became too much for her and her eyes glistened. But she shed not a single tear. She was broken-she was. Not the warrior he had come for, but the warrior he needed. And as he stared at her, it all suddenly became very real to him.

"They left me. Even though I fought for them, saved them. They cast me out and left me. So, I left too."

Arlaige numbly steps away from her. She didn't come because she didn't want to, or because she didn't think they needed her..no...she didn't come because she had been betrayed by the very people she trusted. Arlaige's ancestors. So, why would they be any different in her mind? Why would he be any different?

"You are...different." She says with great effort. "I can see it in your heart, but I am not so sure of everyone else."

He drew his cloak closer around himself. "Let me show you. Let me show you that the world can be different. That you can be treated different."