Chapter Five
Cecil stood in his room in complete darkness. It seemed like forever since he had slept there…his cabin on the airship seemed more welcome than this room. He was tired, yet for some reason he felt not at all like sleeping. At last he started across the room in the dark, mentally picturing the room in the hopes of finding the desk. The only noises he heard were the steady ticking of the clock on the wall and his light breathing. He groped around on the desktop after he located it and his hand touched the oil lamp that had always rested there. His fingers fumbled over it and at last, for his efforts, he was rewarded with a bit of light in the chilly darkness. He watched the tiny flame ripple left and right then with another yawn he tossed the horned helmet aside, hoping it would land out of view. It clattered across the floor then rolled against the wall with a thud. The smell of the burning oil began to drift around the room, making Cecil feel more tired than he already felt…he started toward the bed.
On the opposite wall he could see his shadow cast against the stones, looming and threatening in the dimly-lit room. He pondered the shadow for a moment, wondering how it was so large…but, it really did make sense…like life, I guess, Cecil thought… It’s large and I’m, well, small…insignificant would be a better word…when someone does something great, it really doesn’t have an impact on the entire world…it just affects the people around you…Cecil wondered if, years after his death, he would still be known for his accomplishments…not by the Mysidians, he thought hastily…but by anyone else…Would people speak of him as a—he could hardly agree—hero? Or would people…like the Mysidians…speak of him as a curse and make their children and grandchildren detest the Dark knight?
Or, worst of all, would people not speak of him at all?
They will, he told himself in dismay…the Mysidians would never forget…they would remember and loathe him…he…the one who unmercifully ransacked the town, stole the crystal, and desecrated the Holy Tower…they’ll remember me…
Cecil became aware of the clock ticking and he focused on it to keep himself from thinking about the Tower of Wishes and Mysidia and the crystal and everything…
He finally broke free of his trance and started again toward the bed, where he flopped heavily onto it and began to unlace his boots. He tossed them, one after another, in the general direction of the helmet then he laced his fingers together and placed them under his head, easing back unto the pillow. He didn’t even feel like taking his armor off even though he had been wearing it for hours…It felt like part of him, though he was not part of the Red Wings anymore…
"What’s wrong with King Odin?" he spoke softly to the darkness. "Stealing isn’t the duty of the Red Wings!"
He paused for a moment thoughtfully then he slammed a fist against the wall angrily.
"Never again!" he swore in a low voice. "I won’t do it again, even if ordered!"
He stared at the ceiling and watched the shadows skip and hop through the grooves of stone. As he was drifting to sleep, a light knocking woke him with a start. He rose quickly, slinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He heard a familiar voice and relaxed with a sigh.
"Cecil?"
It was Rosa…she wanted to talk…
The doorknob turned and the door opened slowly.
"Cecil?"
Rosa stepped cautiously into the dark room.
"Are you awake?"
He didn’t answer…so she started toward his bed…he watched as her face appeared in the light. The light cast an orange tint into her golden hair, and it made the irises of her eyes sparkle.
"Cecil?"
He watched as she approached then he lowered his head to the ground.
"Are you alright?"
She gazed at him in concern…why don’t I say something, he scolded himself…
"You haven’t been yourself lately…"
She moved closer as he offered no explanation.
"Why –"
Rosa paused…Cecil’s eyes remained on the floor…
"—Please don’t look away…"
Cecil didn’t say anything for a moment but at last his eyes drifted up to meet hers…why am I doing this to her? He wondered…why can’t I see that she cares about me..?
"In Mysidia –"
Cecil drew a deep breath.
"—We had to take the Crystal of Water…and…some of the mage-guards…resisted…so –"
Rosa uttered a gasp…
"I’m sorry, Cecil…"
Thank God she’s smart enough to understand what I’m trying to say…Cecil couldn’t bring himself to finish what he should have said…
He stood hastily.
"It isn’t your fault," he insisted, grabbing her arm earnestly. Rosa said nothing and Cecil finally sighed and released her arm.
"It…isn’t your…fault…" he repeated, looking at the floor again. Rosa surveyed him thoughtfully.
"Is that all you’re worried about?"
Cecil nodded half-heartedly…she knows that’s not all I’m worried about…
"There’s something else, isn’t there?" She reached a hand out to clasp one of his. "Please tell me what it is, Cecil…"
He wriggled his hand away from hers and turned toward the wall. He stood there, his back to her, his eyes fixed on his own shadow pressed to the stone wall. After what seemed like hours of silence he spoke, his voice quivering:
"I’m not the Captain of the Red Wings anymore…"
Rosa gasped and started toward him. He spun around to face her, his eyes burning brightly in the firelight. He couldn’t look at Rosa, so his gaze fell instead to the horned helmet lying at his feet…it’s mocking me, he thought angrily…its cold stare…it looks so peaceful lying there while I’m being tortured here…Cecil knelt down quickly and snatched the helmet from the ground…
"Cecil –"
He stepped past Rosa coldly and flung the mask across the room. He heard the shattering of glass as it smashed the mirror hanging on the opposite wall…as the helmet struck it, it ceased holding the scene on its surface and glass shards flickered in the corona of the lamplight.
Cecil looked shocked for a moment before turning toward Rosa, his face expressing a strange mixture of scorn and sadness.
"The one thing I always wanted to be has been taken away!"
He thought he saw a brief glimmer of hurt on Rosa’s face as he made such an impassioned remark.
"What’s wrong with the King?" Cecil demanded, lowering his head and dropping his arms to his sides dismally. A pause…
"What have I done, Rosa?"
His voice was low and in the light she could see a glitter in his eyes, and she thought for a moment that he looked much younger than his twenty-eight years…he looked so…lost…
Rosa eased toward him and reached her hand to his damp forehead, gently brushing away the locks of silver hair from his face. He glanced up then breathed deeply, speaking in a strained voice:
"I’m just a dark knight with no courage to disobey the King…"
He sighed and turned away from her, toward his bed…he was tired…he didn’t feel like talking anymore…not even to Rosa…she had gotten this much out of him…now he would probably not sleep…Cecil finally sat down on the bed and began pressing his fist into the soft feathery pillow…he saw Rosa step quietly into the firelight once again.
"It’s late, Rosa –" Cecil stated softly. "—You should…go…home…"
A pause.
"You’re going to Mist tomorrow, aren’t you?" Rosa ventured at last. Cecil nodded.
"If anything happens to you –"
Cecil rose before she could finish. He went to her side and started reassuringly:
"Nothing’s going to happen to me…Kain will be with me…"
He spoke with such reassurance as if the tall, handsome dragoon could solve any problem they might encounter…Rosa stepped out of the lamplight…
"Cecil, please be careful –" She paused. "—If I could go with you –"
The knight shook his head hastily.
"You can’t get involved with this –" He approached her. "—It might end up being dangerous…"
They stood very close and Rosa stared into his dark blue eyes…God, Rosa…please understand…Cecil begged silently…I don’t want you to be in the danger once it comes…finally Rosa turned and walked quietly toward the door. Before she left the room, she took one last look at Cecil, but his back was turned…so she softly turned the doorknob and walked out, easing the door shut behind her.
Cecil stood in silence for a long time, listening to the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Eventually he peered at the door, part of him wishing that Rosa were still standing there…she wasn’t there…and another part of him rejoiced…He stepped back wearily and sat on the bed, squinting into the dim light and barely glimpsing the outline of the horned helmet in the dark corner of the room.
"Rosa –"
The sudden sound of his voice startled him as he whispered into the darkness…
"I’m sorry you had to be part of this --"
How selfish, he thought…why didn’t I say these things to her when she was actually in here?
A pause.
"—But I’m just a dark knight…and that’s all I know how to be…"
Cecil tossed the pillow to the head of the bed and dropped his head against it wearily. As he finally nodded off to sleep, he was still aware of the steady ticking of the clock as it seemed to reflect the beating of his own heart.
* * * * * *
Rosa lay awake in her bed, unable to sleep.
After her unsuccessful conversation with Cecil, she had been so upset that she felt like doing anything but sleeping. She felt like…thinking…and it was hopeless for her to try to think of something other than Cecil…
She remembered what he said about not being the Captain of the Red Wings anymore…that title had meant so much to him…other than being a dark knight of Baron, it was all he ever wanted to do when he was younger…Rosa could clearly recall the times when the other youth were lazily enjoying the long hot summer days by sneaking away from their various jobs to go swimming in the nearby river…She smiled when she thought of Cecil. He was not swimming in the lake with the others; more than likely he was practicing with Kain, encouraging Kain to be the enemy while Cecil was the hero. He worked so hard at honing his sword-handling skills. It was inspiring to realize how dedicated he was, though he was still young.
Is that what made me notice him? Rosa wondered with a smile. His dedication? No…she thought…it was just because he was…Cecil…
Why do you practice so hard, Cecil?
She could almost hear herself speaking, asking that question that she asked a long, long time ago…he had looked up, quite shocked; he hadn’t noticed her arrival…
Um…I don’t…know…
He was never much of a talker, Rosa remembered. Not until you knew him and he knew you…
‘You don’t know?’ What kind of reason is that?
My reason…
It was obvious that he didn’t like interruptions…
There must be some reason that you’re so dedicated…
I had been so demanding, Rosa realized with a soft laugh…He didn’t say anything; she thought he was going to ignore her…
I’m doing this…for my father…
And that was the last thing he had said to her…
For my father…
That’s why it means so much to him, Rosa thought sadly…it’s all he has left of his father…he wants to follow in his father’s footsteps…
His father…
Rosa suddenly got a chill and she didn’t understand why…wait…I do know why…there was something else…the mysterious hooded stranger…
Rosa could still see the figure approaching her and Cecil…where were we going? It didn’t matter…someone started a conversation and from the beginning she could tell that Cecil didn’t like the stranger…
Then something was said…Cecil challenged him…the hooded figure accepted…I didn’t want him to do it, to fight the stranger…
But, it had been something the figure said that upset Cecil…
The stranger carried a katana, coolly, almost arrogantly…He had been an expert swordsman…
And after the duel, the hooded figure stood over Cecil, mocking him…
Your father expected more from you than this…Cecil…
How did the interloper know his name? Cecil didn’t think about it at that moment…he was angry and frustrated and humiliated…
But, he wasn’t only fighting for his father…
A White Robe…the figure had observed with disgust…another foolish human serving the God who has long since forsaken this world…
Then Cecil had challenged him…
He wasn’t fighting for his father…he was fighting for me…
He wants me to be away from danger…
Rosa drew a deep breath and sighed…
I want you to be away from danger too, Cecil…
She rolled over on her side and closed her eyes…why can’t both of our wants bring us closer together?