Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time Fan Fiction ❯ Yaoi Ocean 3 ❯ Chapter Three: Destruction ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter Three

Destruction

Aquios was a rather pretty town, and very clean. The people seemed open enough, but worried about the war, understandably. Anyone in their right mind would be worried.

Nel led them in to the Castle of Aquaria, and to the queen. Lady Nel was half-expecting Cliff to say something inappropriate, but, to everyone's surprise, he didn't. After a brief report and a lengthy greeting and exchange, the queen thanked them for their assistance. She called in a guard and the guard showed Cliff and Fayt to their room. Cliff looked around the room a bit and informed Fayt that he planned on going to look at the chapel they had passed by earlier.

Fayt frowned. That certainly didn't sound anything like Cliff. He wondered what he was up to. Fayt decided that it was probably nothing good. Maybe I should keep tabs on him, or at least check on him. Fayt recalled how Cliff was hoping that there were “hot temple babes.” Fayt twitched. And what about all the times they had had sex…! He sighed, exasperated. He went for a walk instead and found Nel. She seemed a little busy, and recommended he rest, as tomorrow would be another long, exhausting day.

He sighed. Those kinds of days were all they had any more. Still, his body ached a little less from the exertion, and he could feel his muscles toning. It was a good feeling—albeit a tired one.

He found himself in the chapel and decided to ask Cliff what he was up to. Exactly as he suspected, there was something going on. He guessed it was good news—any news at all was good. That saying “no news is good news” couldn't be more wrong; he didn't like worrying about the unknown; it only made things worse because his imagination ran away with him. Mirage was on the move and had the emergency communicator from the Eagle, Cliff's downed ship. His father was still in Vendeeni hands—his heart sank a little at that. No news of his mother either. Apprehension gnawed at his insides. He hated being stuck here with no hope of getting off any time soon. He wanted so badly to do something. But they could do something; Mirage had the communicator. All she needed was a power source.

What could they use? Maybe some of the technology here could be modified to accommodate it? Fayt was dubious.

There was no news of Sophia. Fayt bit lip, worried. He wished he had some real news—anything. Anything was better than wondering about what had befallen Sophia. His imagination always seemed to make matters worse than they already were—and things were pretty bad right now: Crash-landed on an alien planet, an underdeveloped one at that, getting in a weird relationship with a guy of all people, and a Klausian too. Not to mention getting tangled up in a war between two 17th-century countries. What a mess!

Fayt let out an exasperated sigh and went back up to the bedroom. It was still light outside, but he went to bed anyway. He pulled the curtains closed, washed his face, and yanked off most of his clothes. He fell in to bed. He wanted to go home.

Why did all of this have to happen? He just wanted things to be normal again. He wanted to go home, to attend college classes, hang out with his friends, play some basketball and video games. Was that really so much to ask? A tingle of guilt welled up inside him. What had become of Sophia? He wished that he had gone to the beach instead of playing games back on Hyda.

A while later, the door opened and shut. Fayt lifted one eyelid, looking at Cliff. His eye closed again. He heard Cliff undressing. Didn't mean anything. He had, after all, gone to look at “hot women.” That made him angry too, but why, he wasn't exactly sure.

Suddenly, Cliff climbed on top of him. Fayt rolled on to his back, looking up at him. “You up for another go?” he asked.

Fayt grinned unexpectedly. So, going to look at hot girls didn't mean anything… if he still came back to Fayt. “Yeah,” he breathed. The blankets that separated them were pushed aside. Cliff yanked off Fayt's shorts and threw them on the floor unceremoniously. Fayt swallowed in anticipation. He still felt a little sore from last time, but he wasn't going to let something like that stop him.

Cliff pushed one of his big fingers in to Fayt's mouth. Fayt sucked on it, coating it with his own saliva, running his tongue over it, caressing it. He gave a sucking kiss to the tip of his finger. Cliff inserted a second one, shuddering a little as the boy moved his tongue over them. He could imagine what that would feel like to a different part of his body, and it was almost as good as the real thing.

One thing about the kid—he really had to hand it to him—he was a fast learner. Cliff pulled out his fingers after they were sufficiently lathered. He moved them quickly down between Fayt's legs. The Earthling parted his legs for him eagerly, greedily. First one finger, then, when he was ready, the second. Lathered, it wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been before. Fayt felt his heart pounding like a drum, the blood ringing in his ears and the tune something primal. Heat rushed to his groin. He squirmed, but not in discomfort. He pushed harder against Cliff's roving fingers, his own fingers twisting in the sheets. He began to moan. His moan was captured in the other's mouth.

“Shh,” he reminded him. Fayt nodded vaguely. He knew to stay quiet. It was just hard when it felt… Oh…

Cliff pulled his fingers out, only to put himself in, filling the empty void as quickly as it had been emptied. He pushed back, softly, but as far as he could. Fayt kept his mouth clamped shut by sheer will, twisting, his head moving from side to side as the scream sought to escape his throat. He finally let out a low whine and a panting shudder. It reminded Cliff of nothing more than a dog in heat. It excited him.

Fayt's fingers roved over Cliff's muscular body, touching the flexing muscles he so enjoyed, his tongue caressing his neck and his shoulder, leaving trailing wet kisses. Cliff slid in and out of him, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes hard, and sometimes soft. It always seemed to be exactly what Fayt wanted at exactly the right time. Perfect.

Time slipped by in to oblivion. Time—what was that? Nothing else existed—nothing else that mattered anyway. There was just this endless sea of unholy pleasure. He had never imagined that something like this could feel so good. Cliff pushed all the way inside of him and held it there for several seconds, watching Fayt writhe in bliss. He felt… really full, he guessed. Like there was no room for anything else. The blonde pulled almost all the way out and rammed himself back inside. Fayt let out a choked, strangled sound. The seme had knocked the wind out of him. It had felt really good though. He gasped for air. He did it again, and again. Fayt's back arched, almost of its own accord.

Fayt had a fleeting thought, right before he released, right before Cliff came inside him: It can't last.

It didn't. It was over. Both of them were panting, trying to catch their breath. How long had it lasted? Neither knew. Had they been very loud? Neither knew for sure. Slowly, Cliff got up. He stretched and shook his head, as if to clear it. He cleaned himself off and bid Fayt a good night. He climbed in to his own bed. Fayt let out a deep, satisfied sigh and rolled away from the messy puddle spreading on the sheets.

In the morning, Nel came to get them and they went to see the runologists in the Runoligical Weapon Research Facility in charge of the weapon that Fayt had heard so much about. Fayt reviewed the blueprints for it and made a few changes that should improve it. The man in charge of it—Dion--informed them about the problems it was having.

Fayt discerned that the trouble was the wiring. Instead of copper, they were using iron; they didn't have enough copper to make the wiring.

The nearest copper mine was overrun with dragons and even then, it was dangerous with the war going on. Undeterred, Fayt and Cliff decided to go after the copper ore. It was decided that Nel was going with them.

The weapon sort of bothered Fayt, and Cliff shared his opinion. The weapon, like the communicator from the guild, were both too technologically advanced for this planet's stage of development. Something weird was going on. But what?

They proceeded to Arias as quickly as possible. But, no matter how quickly they walked, they couldn't outpace time.

“It'll be impossible to travel in the dark,” Nel commented, looking at the sky. “It'll be dark long before we reach Arias. We should stay here tonight.”
It was agreed upon and they headed to the inn. With Nel so close, and having to get up early the next morning, neither Cliff nor Fayt made any move on each other, but they both wanted to.

In the early morning, just after dawn, they left, once again going at a quick pace and eating as they walked. No one spoke much. The mantle of war hung heavy in the air and it sucked up any lighter conversation in to a dark void.

Soon, the Glyphian forces would attack. And then… Fayt hoped that they were prepared in time.

In Arias, they met with Clair, Tynave, and Farleen. They were just putting the last box of supplies in to a wagon. Everything was prepared and ready for them to head out. They left immediately to the Bequerel Mines. There weren't any cave-ins like the last mine they had traveled through, but this one was much, much deeper and the travel was slow because it was so dark.

There were dragons in here too, so they had to be careful. They ran in to the occasional fight as well when the dragons defended their territory. One of the dragons had a stone that gave off light—the lightstone. The light from it was unflickering, unlike the torches in the wall brackets.

The mine was confusing at times and now and then they had to backtrack because a place had caved in or it was a dead-end of some sort. In due time, though, they made it to the deepest part of the mine where the mining was better. Everyone set to work immediately. Fayt felt near-useless here. Even the women were better with the tools than he was. He contented himself to help load, but he wasn't strong enough to carry some of the larger pieces; Cliff handled those. The work made him dirty and sweaty. He glanced at Cliff. Somehow, the blonde looked fitting covered in a slick sweat, carrying heavy objects. No, not fitting, but… He looked attractive. Fayt quickly glanced away when he realized how he had been studying Cliff. No one noticed; everyone was busily working. He went back to work too, before his body began to respond to his thoughts.

When they had everything they needed, they took the route to the refinery. There were air dragons outside. It seemed foreboding to Fayt. He was reminded of the brief battle they had had before entering the mines. There had been soldiers of the Dragon Brigade—likely there to beef up their army before the battle. One of them had escaped. A tingle of dread trickled down his spine like so much sweat. He hoped they wouldn't run in to them again.

When he asked Nel what she thought of it, she only shook her head. “We may run in to reinforcements,” she said with a sigh. She glanced at the people working on refining the copper. “I hope not,” she added under her breath. It was a thought that Fayt shared. They had worked hard to get that copper, and more work was going in to refining it so they could use it.

Two runologists ran to Nel and told them about the Dragon Brigade outside—the reinforcements they had hoped not to run in to. Well, wasn't that just typical.

Cliff, Nel, and Fayt rushed outside to meet them while the others loaded the copper in to the wagon. Before the inevitable battle, Fayt thought, Is there no way but to kill whoever opposes us? Why?

Tynave informed them that the copper was loaded and they were ready to go. They headed out immediately, not wasting any time.

Fayt and company went behind them on foot to deal with the Dragon Brigade. After it was done, Fayt looked at the bodies. There was no glory in killing people. None at all. The dragon, once a noble-looking creature, was nothing but a corpse of twisted scales, claws, and fangs. It looked ugly, and the rider no better. He wondered what sort of a life the people he had just helped kill had led. Did they have a family waiting for them to return—and they never would?

There was no time to ruminate, though; they had to make it back to Aquios with the copper. He assumed that, by now, the wagon, traveling quickly, must be near to Arias. All the same, Fayt couldn't help feeling apprehensive. He felt like something was wrong.

They didn't get far before he found out why he felt that way. The scent of blood drifted through the air, and they heard voices around the bend. Nel's eyes opened wide. She broke out in a sprint. It was all Cliff and Fayt could do to keep up with her. She skidded to a halt around the corner. Fayt nearly ran in to her.

The sight before him caught the breath in his throat. Blood stained the parched earth. Tynave and Farleen were down. The man standing over them was the same one who had let them escape from the Training Facility. Fayt's hands fisted. That guy… That guy who had insulted them and let them escape like dogs with their tails between their legs—as if fortunate that they hadn't received a beating. Now, he had hurt Tynave and Farleen. Two soldiers of the Black Brigade flanked either side of the man, one holding the reigns to the beast of burden pulling the wagon—a lum, they called it.

Albel looked at them, the way a cat considered a group of mice before it pounced—bloodlust evident in his crimson eyes. He was picking out which one of them he would kill first. His eyes settled briefly on Cliff. That was the obvious choice—take out the tank first and the others will follow. He glanced at Nel, but barely looked at Fayt. He wasn't even concerned about Fayt.He really does look feminine, Fayt thought. And his mannerisms are near-animalistic. Before, he hadn't gotten a very good look at the other man's face, but he really did look rather feminine—for such an arrogant captain anyway. They talked for a short while and Albel kicked one of the girls. Fayt saw the wound in her side open, just a little bit more. She whimpered. They needed to get them to a doctor—now.

Needless to say, a fight ensued. They picked off the soldiers, and Albel put up a good fight, but now he was outnumbered and he fell too. Cliff was about to kill him, but Fayt stopped him. He reminded Cliff of Tynave and Farleen's wounds, then repeated Albel's own words.

“Yeah, well, it's like he said: `Easy wins have never been my style,'” Fayt mocked. Albel glared at him. Death, he had been prepared to accept, but not this.

Cliff laughed. It had a wicked tone to it, like he was enjoying mocking the fallen warrior. However, that was only because he was. He turned his back to him. It wasn't an invitation to kill and he wasn't leaving himself open; it was open ridicule and nothing more. He was deliberately showing Albel how little he thought of him, how little a threat he thought he was. Words could not accurately describe the other's rage. “Hehe, yeah. I gotta agree with ya there. I've no interest in `trouncin' weaklings' either.”

Albel looked like he was going to burst from sheer fury. If it were possible, he may have exploded with it. It wasn't though and so he continued to live even when he wished it otherwise. Better dead and beaten than alive and beaten. And so, they left him there, alone, defeated. As they left the captain of the Black Brigade and he disappeared from sight, they heard him scream. Not in pain, but in a sheer, blind rage and frustration.

Fayt considered their battle. For someone wearing a skirt, he moved pretty quickly, and he really was a terrific swordsman. Albeit, he had seen a little more of Albel's lower half than he had any desire too. Cliff felt the same way. It had been a little windy, and while Albel may be an exhibitionist, no one else particularly had any desire to see any more of his body than they had to. And they had seen a lot more than anyone needed to see; he didn't wear underwear. Of course, most people didn't in this era. Even then, he still had a nice body. Fayt preferred Cliff's body to the other's though. They didn't know how Nel felt; she never voiced her opinion—likely, she had been so angry at the treatment of her subordinates that she hadn't noticed anything of the sort.

“I may just be scarred for life,” Fayt commented as they hurried to Arias.

“Yeah?” Cliff asked him.

Fayt gave him an even look. “You didn't see it? That Albel guy doesn't wear underwear.”

“Oh, that,” Cliff said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Cliff had a rather large porn collection, so that didn't bother him overmuch. It was more that he found Albel to be… distasteful. “Yeah; he should really change his wardrobe.” Fayt gave Cliff a very obvious once-over that communicated his feelings so well that Cliff blinked in surprise, and almost laughed. Nel hadn't seen it; she was driving the wagon and had to pay attention to where they were going.

They helped Tynave and Farleen to a doctor, who quickly tended to their wounds. They spoke with Clair briefly before they headed to Aquios. They didn't stop in Paterny this time; they had no time to waste. After all, there had been a leak, and Airyglyph knew about their weapon, and they knew about the stolen copper they were using to improve it.

By the time they arrived in Aquios, everyone was tired and footsore, as they had been traveling all night by the light of the moons and Fayt's lightstone.

Upon entering the city in the morning, a blonde woman was kneeling over a brunette girl who looked to have fainted. It turned out to be Mirage and Ameena—which was halfway convenient and halfway puzzling. What was Ameena doing here? Mirage was an easy explanation—she had followed them. But what about Ameena?

They took Ameena to the inn so she could rest somewhere safe, and Nel ran to get a doctor. Fayt paced the floor nervously until Nel came back with the doctor in tow.

It was infuriating that, if only they could salvage the medical equipment on the Eagle, they could probably heal Ameena. But that was impossible.

As if there could be a worse time, Nel came in and told them that the queen was summoning them; the invasion of Aquaria had begun before they had time to complete the weapon. Ameena woke when she heard a certain runologist's name mentioned—the man working on the weapon, the Thunder Arrow. Dion.

As it turns out, the friend she had been separated from, who she so desperately wanted to see that she traveled all the way from Paterny to here was named Dion. Fayt decided to bring him to her.

He all but ran to the castle to fetch Dion. He explained, as briefly as he could, that Ameena was there and the two hurried to go meet with her. Before he saw her, though, Fayt told Dion about Ameena's disease. Dion quietly went to visit his old friend. Ameena cheered up immediately. The others left them alone for their long-awaited reunion.

Nel told Fayt and Cliff that, as it stood, their situation was pretty bad. All three Brigades were attacking, headed by a man by the name of Duke Vox. It was the largest force they had ever fielded. A lot of people were going to die, in other words.

The strange thing, though, was that Albel the Wicked wasn't participating. Fayt would have thought that he would be eager to draw blood—especially if it meant getting revenge on him, Cliff, and Nel. He wondered what had happened. For some reason, Fayt's mind drifted to Albel's sword. It was a katana. What was that term? Seboku? No, he seemed a little too vengeful for that. Then what…? The topic was quickly brushed aside from his mind. He should at least be happy that they wouldn't face him again. Still, something about it didn't sit well with him.

He wondered where Sophia was. He really hoped that she was all right. Seeing Ameena like that, though… It really struck a bad chord.

Fayt said goodbye to Ameena when Dion looked ready to leave. They headed back to Arias. By the time they arrived there, they had all gone an entire three days without sleep. All the backtracking was maddening. Fayt hit his pillow and blacked out when they were at long last allowed to rest. He would have liked to have sex again, but he didn't think he'd be able to move, and Cliff looked pretty tired too.

Nel, Fayt, and Cliff were given a separate task to the regular soldiers and runologists; they were to assassinate Duke Vox.

In the morning, the attack began. The trio raced through the battlefield, avoiding fights when they could, and dispatching enemies quickly when they couldn't. Deeper in to the battlefield, they had to weave in and out and around the Dragon Brigade. How they made it through alive, Fayt had no idea. But Nel was good at this and she made an excellent guide. Besides, he felt almost safe with Cliff acting as a bodyguard. “Almost” because he still didn't entirely trust the man, despite having sex with him and despite all they had been through together. His easy-going nature and his over-confidence deterred quite a bit of Fayt's trust, even though it did serve to lighten dire situations.

They somehow managed to find Vox, riding his dragon. The man spotted them immediately and a fight ensued. They never finished it, however, because the duke was incinerated.

While the people of this planet didn't understand what was happening, Fayt and Cliff did. At that, more so Cliff than Fayt. It was a Vendeeni ship—the same peoples who had attacked Hyda had come to Elicoor too. Why? The implications made his head spin.

They immediately began firing. The laser took out Vox, as afore stated. Fayt, Cliff, and Nel ran for cover. A lot of people died on both sides. They ran through the now much more chaotic battlefield, running between confused soldiers, and narrowly missing getting killed. Each shot rocked the earth.

One shot landed uncomfortably close to the group. Nel stumbled but caught herself. Cliff teetered. Fayt caught himself on a dead tree. Adrenaline raced through Fayt's veins. Every instinct he had screamed at him to move. He moved. A blast from the Vendeeni ship made one of the runological weapons explode. The trio ducked, covering their heads as the shrapnel rained down around them. Luckily, nothing heavy hit them. Cliff was scratched by a piece of metal, and Nel brushed wooden splinters from her hair, but they were otherwise unhurt—and a good thing.

They made it back to the Aquarian side of the lines. All was in a state of confusion. All they knew was that something unknown to them was attacking—and annihilating them too.

The group made it back just in time to see Dion hurt by a blast from the Vendeeni ship. Fayt could only gape at the mayhem. This had to stop!

“No… Stop…” He held his head. How could this be happening? Why was this happening? Why?

Cliff urged him to run—to run or he would be captured. Fayt caught something in what he said.

His head snapped up. “'Captured'?” he repeated. Cliff had been holding out on what he knew. But Fayt had known that. He just didn't realize that… The horror struck him as the realization that he had missed for so long came to him, just as sudden as Vox's death. Another blast rocked the earth. He heard someone scream in agony. He flinched. It didn't matter which soldier that was—be it Glyphian or Aquarian. They were still dying because of him. Albeit, they may have died anyway… But this… Fayt screamed at Cliff. It didn't matter to him what he said, he only communicated his thoughts. They had attacked Hyda because Fayt was in Hyda. They were attacking Elicoor for the same reason. Why? Why?

Why did they want him badly enough to kill for it? And to kill so many innocent people too? Why?

He heard a dragon cry out in mortal pain—and not a roar, but an awful scream. He had once heard that the most hideous cry of pain in the universe belonged to that of the horse. He was pretty sure that that was outdated now; the dragon's cry was far worse. It not only made him want to cover his ears to block out the sound, it was so piteous that it tugged at his emotions to end its suffering. He heard it wine, long and low. The wine dwindled to a stop. It must have died.

Fayt wasn't quite sure what happened. One moment, all he could think of was saving this place, of ending the killing, and, most importantly, of getting rid of the Vendeeni. He felt something alien and strange to him rush through him and in the same moment forgot the feeling, because what he beheld was more shocking than the feeling. The Vendeeni ships were exploding.

He lost consciousness and crumpled. Cliff caught him before he tumbled to the earth. He looked up at the sky and let out a low whistle. So, she was right, he thought.