Cree is once again standing on the edge of the cliff. The sky is white once again, and the fog is still lingering on the ground below. The only wind he feels is a gentle breeze, but it in no way brings him comfort.
As he turns around, he sees him again.
Tyrell.
He stares down his other half, his fists tightening at his sides. The real one and the golden-bronze metal of his right hand.
Tyrell slowly approaches, but Cree refuses to be afraid this time.
He's stronger now. He has to be.
When Tyrell reaches him, standing mere inches away, he pushes him again with an apathetic glare, watching as Cree starts to fall.
But he catches the edge of the cliff with his left hand.
When he looks back up, Tyrell is gone.
And Regan is standing in his place.
Cree smiles as Regan reaches down to take his hand, extending his reach to help pull him up before he can fall again.
Cree reaches up with his metal hand to take Regan's.
But instead of pulling him up, Regan struggles to hold on.
And he falls too.
__________________
Cree lets out a small gasp as he wakes up. The orange glow outside the inn window tells him it's just the break of dawn. He doesn't remember exactly when he fell asleep, but he feels refreshed. Relaxed. Alive. A feeling of warmth and comfort fills his heart, despite the doubts clouding his mind. He shoves them aside in the moment and just focuses on this feeling.
He had forgotten how nice it was to not sleep alone.
He turns his head to see Regan peacefully asleep beside him.
Especially when they're still there to prove that his trust wasn't misplaced.
A smile spreads across Cree's face, not quite sure how he got here; to this moment. His mind runs through how he has treated Regan over the years, and guilt plagues his heart. But despite everything, he's still here. And Cree promises to both himself and Regan that he will never hurt him again.
Then he gets a flash image of how Edith would react to this. He can't tell if she would be happy or more likely to kill him. Either way, it makes him chuckle softly.
He looks over at Regan's face again and his eyes hover over the healed scar over his cheek. The guilt resurfaces. With a heavy heart, he reaches over and brushes his metal thumb over the scar. He slightly shakes his head.
"...Why do you love me...?" he whispers as he stares at his face.
Regan begins to stir, his eyes squinting against the morning light as he blinks them open, his gaze instantly falling to Cree beside him. A warm smile melts onto his face, suddenly realizing that last night wasn't a dream. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Good morning, Ty," he says quietly.
Cree scoffs playfully. "Really? You're still not gonna call me 'Cree'? Damn, what more do I have to do to prove myself?" he rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smile.
Regan chuckles. "I'll know it when I see it."
Cree sighs and sits up, stretching his arms above his head and rotating his new Dwarven arm, still getting used to the new feeling. He still can't believe that Regan was so, um, distracted last night that he didn't even stop to ogle the new technology.
Regan looks around and sees their bags in the corner of the room, and he notices how empty his backpack looks. It's then that he remembers how Romeow had been left behind when they fled from Balmoral. He had hoped that maybe he would have found them by now, but the fact that he hasn't is starting to make Regan even more concerned.
"Has there been no sign of Romeow...?" he asks absently as he stares at the bags.
Cree sighs and nods, running a hand through his hair to brush it out of his face. He had expected this to be one of the first things Regan would ask about in the morning. He admits, he also has his share of guilt for leaving the cat behind. In his panic to get Regan to Arkala, he brushed over the possibility of going back to the city for just a moment to look for Romeow.
"No... Still haven't seen him since Balmoral," he stops as he sees Regan turn back and look down, lightly gripping the blankets. Cree sighs again and hesitantly reaches over to rest his hand on his shoulder. "Hey, this is Romeow we're talking about. He is literally linked to your brain. He'll be able to find us no problem, I'm sure. Let's just try to not worry about it and wait for him to catch up," he says and throws on a smile.
Regan nods and takes a deep breath, putting on a smile of his own. "You're... You're right. I have faith that he will be able to look after himself. It is in his code to find me if there is ever a point we are separated and he hasn't failed me yet. He won't now," he states.
"So... Romeow aside, last night you said that Reela is currently staying with the healer who helped me, correct?" Regan asks as he sits up as well, pulling on his tunic and smoothing over the creases.
Cree nods. "Yeah. Her name's Nisha," he says.
Regan narrows his eyes at him. "Nisha, huh? Are you... 'familiar' with her?" he teases.
Cree scoffs. "Really?"
"I'm just saying, you do have a reputation," Regan jabs.
"Calm down, she's both seventeen and clearly a lesbian," Cree states and starts getting dressed.
Regan holds his hands up in surrender. "Never mind, then. But really, how did you meet her? How did you know where to find her?" he asks and starts doing the same.
Cree sighs, not really happy about the circumstances by which he knew about Nisha. But he doesn't want to keep anything from Regan. Especially not now. "When I was in debt to Sara, she ordered me to kill Nisha... But, well, I broke the deal by sparing you, but I still knew about her and that she was a healer, so when you were hurt, I went straight for where I knew she would be," he explains.
Regan looks down. "Would you have killed her if you hadn't gone back on the deal?"
Cree shrugs. "I dunno. I like to think not, but to keep Reela safe, I might have. I wasn't just going to let Sara take her."
"Why did Sara want this 'Nisha' dead?" Regan asks.
Cree looks back at him. "Something about an impasse of having dirt on her. I don't know the details, but I know that Nisha wouldn't have deserved it."
Regan tilts his head. "How do they know each other?" he asks.
"They're both agents of the Dev'al Ordon," he says and then immediately realizes he should have elaborated more. Regan gasps and gets up quickly, rushing towards the door but Cree stops him.
"You left Reela with a member of the Dev'al Ordon?" Regan questions.
Cree moves Regan away from the door. "I did. I trust Nisha. She knows who we are and where we came from, but she told me she doesn't want to hurt us. If anything, she's been nothing but helpful since we met. I mean, it's thanks to her that I can be right-handed again." He smiles and extends his new arm, instantly grabbing Regan's attention.
He stares at the metal limb in awe, grabbing it and looking it over intimately. "Who... made this?" he asks without peeling his eyes from the arm.
Cree shrugs. "A Dwarven mechanic named Bersilak. A friend of Nisha's. Why?"
"The complex design somehow rounded into an intricately welded construct... The metal work is hardened and made with less precision than anything out of Unity, however the technology of this framework still appears to be fully operational, calculated, even. And how does it work? There are no cybernetic cognitive connections running to your mind to allow it to move, instead it just does! This is marvelously crafted!" Regan beams and jumps back to compose himself.
Cree snickers as Regan forces himself to look away and walk over to the table, calming himself down with a deep breath. He picks up the new fedora Cree got for him and smiles as he stares at it. With a nod to himself, he puts it on and turns back towards Cree.
"Well? How does it look?" he asks.
Cree doesn't know how he managed it, but somehow the dark purple sash on the hat perfectly matches the dark purple accents on Regan's tunic. The color coordination was anything but intentional, but it suits Regan freakishly well.
And most of all, despite everything,
"Somehow, you're still you," he says.
Regan smiles for a moment, but it suddenly fades and he casts his eyes downward. "I know... But I am still weak. And a coward... But at least I'm me," he says with a sigh, not sure exactly how he feels about the truth of that.
Cree furrows his brows and sighs as well. He also knows the truth behind what he said. His nightmare was there to remind him of it. That Regan has been pushed far beyond his limits multiple times since coming to Aramora, but he still bounces back. He's glad Regan can maintain his sense of self, but he's worried that one of these days, there will come a time when Regan is faced with near-death again and he won't be able to save him.
And he can't save himself.
Talking about his feelings is still tough for him, and last night is evidence of that. It was much easier to act on his feelings instead of telling Regan what was on his mind. But this could be a start. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he says and walks over to the bed and sitting down.
Regan's gaze follows him but he remains standing. "What do you mean?"
Cree lowers his head as he ponders his thoughts. The emotions that he gets when he recalls his latest nightmare. It was bad enough when it was his past mistakes haunting him, but now it feels like it's a premonition of a mistake yet to come. One that involves Regan.
Cree takes a deep breath. "That with all this weight I'm carrying, you won't be strong enough to hold it, me, up. And eventually you'll fall too," he says. Recalling how scared he was to see Regan fall in his nightmare.
Regan thinks about it for a moment, when his smile returns. "That's when I get stronger."
Cree looks up at him and tries to decipher his meaning, but he comes up with nothing. Again, it's hard to figure out the mind of a madman who seems to talk more sense than most people he's met.
Regan sits down beside him. "By standing atop that cliff, watching you fall and climb back up again and again, reaching out my hand to help but you're always just out of reach. That isn't going to make me stronger. To do that, I must fall with you," he says and takes his hand.
Cree eyes him quizzically for a moment, wondering how the hell he's following this metaphor when he doesn't even know about his nightmare. Maybe he really is just that inquisitive. "But then what?" he asks.
Regan's smile never falters. "Then, once we hit the bottom, we have nowhere to go but up. So, we climb back to the top, together. That is what will make me strong." He looks across the room to where Cree has his knives set on the table and stares at them solemnly.
"If you fall, I won't catch you. If you cry, I won't dry your tears. If you rage, I won't calm you. These are the promises I make," he says.
Cree looks down and shakes his head. "Then what will you do?"
Regan returns his eyes to him and gently turns his face to meet his assuring gaze. "I will fall with you. I will share in your tears. I will show the same rage to our enemies so that they may know that there is nothing I will not do for the people I love. They may break me down, believe they are shaping me into what they want me to become, but in the end I will still smile and raise my lute so long as the ears my songs fall upon are those of my love."
Cree stares at him, uncertain if all he's saying is realistic or just his heart speaking in the moment as he usually does. It's one thing to feel a certain way, but it's another to have the courage to act on those feelings. "Nothing you won't do? Even take another life?" he asks, expecting Regan to falter at the reminder of what happened in the Citadel. But he doesn't waver for a second.
"Nothing."
Cree has to look away, somehow feeling more afraid of that image. Of Regan becoming like him. "Aren't you afraid of becoming a monster?" he asks with his eyes cast to the floor.
Regan shakes his head. "No. Not anymore. I believe I have learned something tremendously valuable from all we have seen," he starts, which gets Cree to meet his eyes again.
"I have seen so many lives be taken. So much blood spilled. By you. By Sara. By soldiers following orders. And by me. I killed Ivanna, and the memory still haunts me. But I cannot be afraid of taking lives again. If I had hesitated or fought myself that day in the Citadel, you would have been killed. I will not chance that now," his voice holds confidence that is unwavering. It's something he's never heard from Regan before.
Yet another reminder of John.
"But then Sara wins. She will have broken you," Cree says quietly.
Regan smiles again. "No she wouldn't. Because I will not be like her. A monster. And neither will you."
Cree sighs and shakes his head, his face shifting to frustration. Not for Regan, not entirely anyway. But for himself. The only thing frustrating him about Regan right now is how optimistic he's being about the type of person Cree is. "You're wrong. I am a monster. I can't even remember how many lives I've taken," he says.
"But you still think about them," Regan states. "It still haunts you."
Cree shrugs. Of course it still haunts him. That's what happens when you take enough lives. You end up being unable to get their faces out of your head. Their voices as they begged you to show them mercy. Their cries.
"Ty, do you think Sara sits and ponders on the lives she's taken and ruined and feels remorseful?" Regan asks. The question feels rhetorical, but with Regan, you never know.
"No," Cree answers simply.
"Exactly," Regan says.
Cree grumbles and shakes his head. "What are you getting at?"
Regan now takes both of his hands in his own. "Understand the lesson I have learned," he says.
"That taking lives doesn't make you a monster. Enjoying it does."
Cree says nothing as he brings himself to look Regan in the eyes again, and that confidence now can be more than heard in his voice, but seen in his eyes. This isn't the same as the confidence he saw in John. This is something else entirely.
Something that can only be found in Regan.
"And I know damn well that I will not enjoy it. But that doesn't mean I will let that stop me. For in the end, nothing will change the fact that I am still Regan Angevin of County Sage." He stands up, spins around to face him, and proudly tips his fedora with a smile.
He woke up.
Cree rolls his eyes and snickers. "You are such a fucking ponce."
After finishing getting ready, they hear a knock on the door. Cree opens it and sees Nisha and Reela waiting in the hallway. Reela peeks past Nisha and her eyes light up as she sees Regan.
"Regan!" she darts into the room and throws her arms around his waist.
Regan gasps and lowers down to hug her back, trying to calm the trembling child. "Reela! I'm okay, I'm okay, don't worry!" he smiles and gently strokes her hair.
Nisha chuckles as she walks past Cree into the room, smiling at the happy moment between Regan and Reela. "Good to see ya awake, Regan," she says and leans her back against the wall.
Regan looks up at her and stands, letting Reela go but still keeping his hand on her shoulder. "Indeed, Ms. Moraan. Tyrell was telling me about you and how you saved me, despite your standing with the Dev'al Ordon. I am grateful for all the help you have given us," he says politely, even as he eyes her, trying to find any signs of dishonesty. She seems genuine, but then again, so did Sara at first.
Nisha laughs and waves him off. "Please, just call me Nisha. No need to be so formal. And hey, don't mention it. I'm pretty drained after the amount of magic I had to use to keep you stable, but that just means I have an excuse to take it easy today. It's a win-win," she shrugs and flicks her tail.
The unique appendage catches Regan's eye, and he looks her over from her ears to her tail, curiously studying her. Nisha tilts her head and watches him quizzically. "You alright? You look like you just had a stroke there," she asks. Cree chuckles.
"That's Regan for you," he says.
Regan steps closer to her. "You have feline features... Forgive me for asking, but, what are you, exactly?" he asks and tries to remember that she is a person and thus he cannot study her like a science experiment. Even if he does really want to.
Nisha snorts and rolls her eyes. "Man, do all outsiders have the same reaction just with different words? But, I can't really say I blame you. I'm a Tus'Felnis. Now, mind if we get down to business?"
Cree shuts the door and turns back to her. "Business?" he asks.
Nisha nods. "Yep. Sorry, but being outsiders on a foreign continent isn't all fun and games. We need to discuss the situation we all find ourselves in," she says. Regan takes a seat on the bed and Reela hops up and sits beside him. Cree leans against the wall and Nisha climbs up on the table and sits with her legs crossed and her tail dangling off the edge.
"So, what situation are we in?" Cree asks to start.
Nisha snickers and flicks her ear towards him. "Um, you mean aside from being probably the three most wanted people in Aramora right now and that I'm supposed to either kill you or arrest you? Or did you think I meant the situation of wondering what's for breakfast?" she snarks. Cree frowns and glares at her.
"You're supposed to reprimand us," Regan says. "So, what's stopping you? The rest of the Dev'al Ordon seems rather persistent on hunting us down, so why not you?" he asks.
Nisha sighs. "As I told Cree yesterday, it's kinda a long story. But, I'll summarize. So long as you all give me your word to mention none of this to anyone, especially not members of the High Order, got it?" she states and looks around for confirmation.
Cree nods. "Got it. Not like we can really stop for a chat with any of them without them trying to hack our heads off," he says.
"Technically, they're more likely trying to turn you into human shish kebabs, but fair point," Nisha says with a shrug and takes a deep breath. "While I am technically working for the Dev'al Ordon, it's... more or less a cover. I know you guys are new in Aramora, so I'll give you a little history lesson, for reference," she says.
Regan claps. "Yay! History! I am all ears!" he stops and covers his mouth. "No offense," he says.
Nisha grins. "None taken."
She gathers her thoughts before beginning. "For the last, I don't even know how many years, Aramora has been in a... rather tight position. Two minor continents to the east are currently at war, if you could even call it that. Narvadin and Varagores. Narvadin is where the Tus'Felnis come from, and Varagores is home to the Orcs. One day, the Orcs decided to hop on over to Narvadin and begin enslaving the Tus'Felnis, claiming Narvadin as their land," she starts. Her ears slightly wilt.
She takes another deep breath. "But lately... The Orcs have had their eyes set on Aramora, but they can't invade with this being the home continent of the Dev'al Ordon. The most powerful and old branch of this weird-ass 'government conglomerate' between the Dev'al Ordon, the Imperium, and the..."
"The Dominion," Regan finishes for her. Nisha nods.
Cree eyes her skeptically. "What does this have to do with us?" he asks.
Nisha rolls her eyes. "Damn, you're impatient. I'm getting there. Where was I? Oh right, the Orcs want Aramora. But they don't want the baggage of the Dev'al Ordon breathing down their necks. So instead, they decided to put their little Narvadin slaves to work. They sent in Tus'Felnis spies to gather information on the Order and Athemar's 'holy quest' to save the continent. No one suspected anything, since they just assumed the Tus'Felnis showing up at Aramora's doorstep was because they were refugees fleeing from the Narvadin crisis," she continues.
Cree narrows his eyes at her. "And let me guess, you're one of those spies?" he asks.
Nisha's ears fold back flat against her head and she stares at the floor, her earlier confidence dissolved into a look of shame and lament.
"Ty..." Regan says softly, showing Cree a disapproving glare.
Reela hops off the bed and walks over to Nisha, gently pulling her tail which catches her attention. The child shows the Tus'Felnis a smile and she pulls off her necklace with the sword and snowflake symbol. She hands it up to Nisha, which makes the Tus'Felnis smile and she playfully ruffles her hair.
She clears her throat and holds onto the gift from the child. "Right... Sorry. Anyway, to answer your question... Yes... I am a Narvadin spy. Two years ago, when I was sent to Aramora, I staged a shipwreck to be found washed up along the coast of the Orinas Sea. To Varagores' good fortune, I happened to be in possession of a school of magic, which was the only real requirement to get into the Dev'al Ordon. I was accepted into the Order as a disciple, and eventually became one of their agents," she explains, keeping her eyes cast downward.
"What are the Orcs hoping to gain from sending in these spies?" Regan asks.
"It all comes back to the Grand Master of the Dev'al Ordon himself, Athemar Anilisan Du'Keldan. He's got a magic 'gift' of his own, or so he believes. I've got my suspicions but nothing solid yet. Anyway, he doesn't have any zippy-zappy flashy magic like one of the normal schools, but instead he's what you could consider a 'Prophet'. He has these 'visions', premonitions of a near or distant future. And low and behold, he had a vision of Aramora being destroyed by a man from beyond the barrier," she says and turns her gaze to Cree.
He crosses his arms. "I'm not going to destroy anything, sounds more like a delusional fever dream to me," he says with a frown.
Nisha sighs. "Maybe it is, but with the current state of everything, it seems more than likely to be true in some sense. Maybe strings were pulled to get you here and make this all a possibility, but I can't be sure. As far as we are aware, he predicted your arrival long before it even happened. Same with the woman arriving in Eutria," she says.
Regan gasps. "Wait, you mean Edith?!"
Nisha nods. "If that's her name. Athemar believes the end is approaching, and that the rifts are the key to preventing it. So, he's sent out agents to locate the Schism Fragments."
"What fragments?" Regan asks.
Cree sighs and looks at him somberly. "Remember that necklace? That was a Schism Fragment."
"And you broke it," Nisha says. "Giving you its power. You and Reela are practically walking Schism Fragments, and the Dev'al Ordon will only see you as such," she explains.
Regan goes silent and stares down at his hands. He glances over to Reela as she grabs his hand and makes him smile for a moment. "Why do the Fragments matter?" Regan asks, his voice becomes darker.
Nisha looks between Regan and Reela, feeling the dark energy radiating off of the two. "Because the energy of three Fragments is what they need to open the rifts. Athemar believes opening the rift to Eutria will somehow prevent whatever great downfall is comin' up for Aramora. So, he's having the Fragments be gathered by a... rather interesting group of adventurers, to say the least," Nisha says with a chuckle.
"So, long story short, Varagores sent Narvadin spies to sneak their way into Aramora and they had me infiltrate the Dev'al Ordon to 'help' Athemar prevent this disaster. When in reality... I'm supposed to be working towards making sure it happens... So they can invade once the Dev'al Ordon is wiped out," she says, her voice grows softer and her head lowers again.
Cree takes a moment to process everything. He's no stranger to war plans, Mortality as evidence of that. But this is all way more complicated than just 'blow up Citadel, free SRL, end war'. Maybe it's because he can't tell what side they're supposed to be on. Everyone involved in this has their hands dirty. The Dev'al Ordon wants them dead. And Varagores just wants Aramora without the Order in the picture. When all he and Regan want is to find the rift and go to Eutria to find Edith. They can't do this with the Dev'al Ordon no doubt guarding the rift, wherever that may be. Which reminds him of his next question.
"So, where is the Dev'al Ordon and this rift?" he asks.
Nisha glances back at him. "If I tell you, promise to not do anything stupid like storm the place?" she asks, giving him a full glance of suspicion.
Cree holds his hands up. "Promise."
Nisha sighs. "I'll hold you to that. Fine. The Dev'al Ordon is stationed at the Divine Temple, the heart of Ecrin; the capital of Aramora. And the rift is kept in the Temple in a place called the 'Pinnacle Tower' in the center of the courtyard," she explains.
"Could we sneak in?" Reela asks.
Nisha chuckles and shakes her head. "Sorry kid, but it's not that simple. Especially since you two are wielders of Tene-Medeis and everyone at the Temple will undoubtedly be able to detect that, since they're all Mars," she says.
"So, what do we do then?" Cree asks.
Nisha sighs and throws her head back as she feels a headache coming on that isn't the result of a fun night of drinking Recharn Rum.
"Just... Give me time to check with my sources. I sent word to Athemar that I've been hitting dead-ends with my search for, well, you. So I'm probably going to be joining some friends in their search for the Schism Fragments. I'll do my best to keep them steering clear of you, but I think they're going to be here soon. Which means you guys need to lay low. I'll do my best to keep you informed, but I don't think I'm going to be around much soon, assuming I do join the search, that is," she says.
Regan pulls his thoughts together enough to look over at her. "You're leaving Arkala soon? Where are we supposed to go? It seems nowhere is safe," he questions and starts rubbing his knuckles.
Nisha slides off the table. "My advice? I'd say head for Whiteridge. The Dev'al Ordon's aware of the incident of the Fragment breaking and the disappearance of Reela M'Qinan. My friends aren't likely to go there, and I doubt the Dev'al Ordon will check again, since she was last seen in Balmoral," she advises.
"That's the most I can give you right now. I'm sorry I can't be of more help... I can tell you guys have been through some shit," she says and looks across each of their faces.
Cree smiles and steps towards her. "You've done more than enough. With everything we've been through, it's refreshing to know there are some friendly people out here. Even if things don't go smoothly from here on out, we won't forget this. We'll start making our way to Whiteridge," he says. Reela looks away from them all and crawls onto the bed, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth.
Nisha stretches her arms and yawns. "Right. Now then, I've got some shit to deal with today... I'm not lookin' forward to it, but I'll survive," she says. Cree opens the door for her.
"I'll walk you out," he offers.
Nisha rolls her eyes. "Oh, so now you're a gentleman? When did that happen?" she sneers playfully as she walks past him and into the hallway. Cree follows and throws a glance back into the room at Regan and Reela.
"You two coming?" he asks.
Regan looks back at Reela and his eyes show his concern. With a sigh, he shakes his head. "No, I think we'll stay here for now... You go ahead," he says with a smile. Cree smiles back and nods before he shuts the door on his way out.
Regan returns his focus to Reela and moves closer to her on the bed. He watches her rocking and she seems to be fighting tears. She's just staring off at the wall across the room from the bed.
"Reela? Is... everything okay?" he asks.
She jumps as though she had completely forgotten he was there, despite being able to see him out of the corner of her eye. She looks up at him and slows her rocking, bringing her hands together and anxiously rubbing them together as she has seen Regan do a few times now. She shakes her head, moving as if she is in pain. "No... no... no!" she cries and grabs the sides of her head, tightly shutting her eyes and rocking faster.
Regan gets up and moves to kneel directly in front of her, gently reaching for her arm and placing his other hand on her back to softly rub in circles to try getting her to calm down. Trembling, she looks up at him with fearful eyes.
"Reela... What is wrong?" he asks tenderly.
She sheds a few tears. "...I'm scared..." she whispers. Regan tilts his head and takes her hand in his own, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
"Of what?" he asks.
Her eyes are pleading. "...The dark," she whispers.
Regan looks around the room, confused as to what she means since the room has the light from the window and the candles. "But... it's not dark in here," he says.
Reela shakes her head again. "Not in here..." She pulls his hand up to the side of her head.
"...In here."