Pilgrimage – Year Two

Part Two

        I entered the cave and exchanged the stones silently, wishing that there were another way. I knew that I could let the spells fade, let them fall and the crystals thaw.

        But the problem was the Dynast Breath. You see, generally speaking, it’s a strong offensive spell. It’s not truly designed to do what I had it doing. Its original design was to encase your enemy in an ice crystal that was not penetrable by magic or blade. Then, at will, the crystal would snap and break into a million pieces… breaking your enemy right along with it.

        It’s said that even a Mazoku can be destroyed with a Dynast Breath, which would indicate that the spell also translates into the Astral Plane. The issue at stake therefore is more than simply the physical body.

        Simply put, the crystal will not melt, will not be broken. Only the one who cast it can destroy it. And both ways of destroying it take magic. So, that leaves Lina alive within a crystal prison.

        Can anyone blame me for feeling that I have betrayed her?

        I stood there, looking at her within the crystal. Her eyes were closed, thankfully. There was nothing to attest to the fact that she still lived. Her shirt was sliced where her dagger had… where she had stabbed herself, but the skin underneath was whole and hale.

        I noticed now that her lips were slightly parted. Had they been such before? I couldn’t recall. Last year, I had not looked. This year… I made a mental note to check next year.

        Gourry and Zelgadis finally approached, the two looking down to the figure in the crystal. None of us spoke; what could we say? What could be offered by one of us that hadn’t been thought by the other? Could I say it wasn’t fair? Yes, and I would be right. But life wasn’t fair, and I had never thought that it could be. I could say that she was too young… but what does death care of age?

        Lina knew the risks of the life that she had chosen. But to have turned her own blade against herself when I was too weak to do so… Lina did what she had to do. She always had, one way or the other. She fought Rezo because she had to. She fought Copy Rezo because she had to. Garv, Hellmaster, Valgarv, Dark Star. All those things she chose to do. Just as she chose her own death over that of her friends. I knew now that this was the second time she’d chosen that, but this time she was paying a much higher price. No, she wasn’t dead… but she might as well have been.

        Life went on.

        I stood there in the silence, thinking how the world hadn’t noticed that she was gone. Rumors still flew, people still swore that they’d seen her blow up an entire mountainside. And every rumor that I heard twisted my heart even harder.

        I turned away, unable to continue standing there with my knowledge. A hand fell on my shoulder and I looked back to see Gourry looking at me quietly. His voice was a whisper.

        “She’d be proud of you.”

        My lips twisted into a sour smirk. Sharp self-anger rose like bitter bile, and I found myself taking on the distantly cold expression of royalty. “I have done nothing that she would be proud of, Gourry.”

        He lifted his hand, turning away to look at her again.

        I walked out of the cave, knowing the wards would allow them to depart safely.

        As I approached the hotel, someone landed beside me, walking in pace with my own steps.

        “You’ve changed, Amelia.”

        “Have I, Zelgadis?” I countered without looking at him. I was going to burst into tears at any moment, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to do it in front of him because I knew how it annoyed him. I’d always annoyed him. So why did he try…?

        “You seem… I don’t know. Distant,” he tried.

        I stopped, turning to look at him, and the expression on my face seemed to startle him. “What I am is tired, Zelgadis. I am a Queen who has things piling up at home, and I am sure to have any number of critical problems when I return to Saillune.”

        “Then why are you here?” He countered.

        “I am here because I have to be,” I replied. And without further elaboration, I entered the hotel and went to my room.

        The moment I hit my bed, I burst into tears. I missed my daughter terribly, missed my best friend… everything I’d ever lost came crashing over me in a swell of painful emotions. More than anything, I wanted it all back. I wanted Lina, I wanted Andreas. I wanted my family. I wanted to be that shining fifteen-year-old without a soul-consuming sadness.

        I froze, my breath catching in my throat when a hand touched my head in a gentle caress. When I lifted my head and looked, the room was empty. No one was there. But I had felt the touch, I was positive of that. As I sat there, trying to make sense of it, a knock came at my door.

        “Yes?” I asked, unwilling to rise and actually open the door.

        “My lady, I heard you were in town,” the Cleric. It was the Cleric who had assisted me last year. I slid off of the bed and walked to the door, opening it and allowing him in.

        He took my hand and looked to me so gently. “How are you, my lady?”

        I closed the door with my free hand and looked to him. “I am ill of spirit. But what else can be said on the anniversary of her…”

        He nodded as my voice trailed off. “You were the best of friends, this I know. And of the…?” He lifted a brow, and I knew what he was asking. My hand slipped from his and I walked over to the desk and sat in the chair.

        “She is well and precious. I miss her very dearly.”

        The Cleric smiled again, pulling a parcel from his sleeve and presenting it to me. “Take this to her, then if you will. It is not much, just a token of our esteem.”

        I took the parcel, feeling the slight weight. It would wait until I got home and then I would discover it with her. I smiled again. “You do me too well. I have nothing to thank you with…”

        He raised a hand in protest. “We ask for nothing, Majesty. The knowledge that you and yours are well is more than enough for us. We are Clerics in the Ways of Cepheid. We need no more.”

        I nodded and opened my mouth to say more to him, but another knock came at the door, followed by a concerned voice. “Amelia? Dinner is being served.” I wondered what he and Zelgadis had done to decide who would come to my door.

        “Thank you, Gourry. I will be down in a few moments.” I rose from the chair and turned to the Cleric. “If you will excuse me…”

        The Cleric nodded, opening the door for me and following me out into the hall. “If I may ask but one more thing: her name?”

        I paused for a moment, turning away from the Cleric now and moving towards the stairs. “Lina. Her name is Lina.” And I left him there in the hallway.

        Dinner was an uncomfortable event, the three of us sitting at the table and picking at the food. The air around us felt charged with emotion, yet none of us seemed to know what to do about it. Finally I set my spoon down and stared at the soup in front of me.

        “I’m sorry. I’ve been mean and nasty to the two dearest friends in my life, and I apologize.”

        Silence. I didn’t know what hurt more. My guilt at being mean to them, or the silence that came after my apology for it. I stood, pushing my chair in, fighting to see through the tears that were filling my eyes. When I turned around to leave, someone was in my way.

        I looked through my tears at the blonde man standing there, Gourry looking down at me still in that silence. I ducked my head so that I wouldn’t have to see him and when I took a step around him, I was suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug.

        Lina would have kicked him to Sairag. But I just stood there, trying to compose myself, and failing miserably.

        “It’s okay, Amelia. We all miss her. We’ve just been missing her the wrong way,” Gourry said.

        I looked up at him, trying to understand. “What?”

        “We’ve been so busy missing her that we’ve lost sight of what she meant to us,” Gourry replied, looking at me. “I mean, yeah, when I first met her… I thought she was a little kid. But she was a lot more than that.”

        I managed to squirm out of his embrace. “How did you meet her, anyway, Gourry? Lina never told me the whole story…”

        Gourry told us the tale of how he thought he was saving this ravishing redhead from a group of bandits… only to find out that the redhead was a skinny flat-chested little girl who reminded him more of his little sister.

        By the time he finished the story, we were on the floor of his room and I was laughing more than I’d laughed in two years.

        I shook my head slowly. “I’m amazed that she didn’t outright kill you then and there!”

        “Yeah…” he replied. “Me too.”

        I looked at Zelgadis. He has a story too, I thought suddenly. “I still don’t know how you met Lina and Gourry, Zelgadis.”

        He blinked, caught offguard by my question, then looked at Gourry for a moment. “That group of bandits happened to have something that I was tracking when Lina stole it from them.”

        I laughed. “You’re kidding, right?” He shook his head. “You’re serious? Oh… it was the Philosopher’s Stone, right?”

        Zelgadis nodded, and began to tell the story. How he’d tried to buy the statue and the prices she’d named. That hadn’t surprised me. What had surprised me was that he’d had to fight her. But when he explained why, and how, I got a little peevish.”

        “Zelgadis! You know better than to do that to a girl! Especially then!” I was, of course, referring to his unkind kneeing of Lina in the stomach during that time.

        He had the grace to blush. Violently. “I didn’t know her then!”

        “That’s no excuse!” I felt an old speech of love and justice fighting its way to my lips, and looked at Gourry in astonishment. “Gourry… how did you know? How did you know that remembering her would make me feel better?” I did. I felt happier, lighter than I had in a long time.

        Gourry smiled and this time, it reached his eyes. “Because, remembering brings them closer to us, and then they aren’t gone.”

        I agreed, and we spent the rest of the evening remembering how we met and the beginning of it all.

        In the morning, we left on far better terms than we had arrived.

        We’d see each other again next year.