Divided World
Chapter 8
By: Ketsurui
Trowa was floating through complete darkness and utter silence,
feeling as though his body was covered in hundreds of stones.
*Am I dead?* A small part of his mind wondered. *Is this what it's
like to...die?* Faintly, as if miles away he heard voices speaking in words
he couldn't understand. *Why don't the Divine Beings speak the same language
as I?*
The weight was slowly pulled away from him, and he began drifting
backwards quickly, the movement stopping with the feeling of a solid surface
under his back. Experimentally, Trowa cracked open an eye, then immediately
shut it when he was greeted with the sight of a blinding white light. *This
must be the Fiery Gate of Judgement.*
A voice above him spoke soothingly, brushing away the hair that was
clinging to his face. Gentle heat seemed to flow into him, taking the pain
away from his crushed and bleeding body. Trowa again dared to open an eye,
and this time was met by a soft, blue glow. *What's going on?!*
"It worked. You're alive."
Both eyes opened at those words. "How-?" He stopped abruptly,
shocked to see who his rescuer was. "Quatre?! What are you doing here?!"
"I came back to see if you were all right. I am glad to see you
survived," Quatre replied.
As this all processed, Trowa's eyes narrowed and he attempted to
sit up, but was too weak to support himself. "You came back? Then you knew
this was going to happen!" He tried to point a finger accusingly at the
blond, but weakly fell back. It was then he noticed he was resting against
Quatre's folded knees, but he couldn't push away. Somewhere inside, he didn't
want to push away, either; feeling the warmth and solidity beneath him made
him feel secure. "Why didn't you tell me before you left?"
"All me to answer one thing at a time," Quatre said soothingly.
"Yes, I did come back for you, but I didn't know this was going to happen
until yesterday morning. I would have told you, had I known; I made it aware
to you how I feel about you."
Trowa shifted uncomfortably, the feelings of guilt rising within
him again, stronger than it ever had been. "Quatre, I....Do you know what did
this?"
Quatre looked away slightly. "Blessed Powers, of flames and
the...ground."
The nobleman nearly fell off Quatre's lap. "What?!" He lowered his
voice quickly when people nearby turned to look at him. "Blessed Powers?!
Everyone who has them are executed!"
"In my land, we believe that Blessed Powers are exactly as they
sound; a blessing. I myself have Powers of healing, which I used on you. We
refuse to murder eachother for the jealousy and paranoia of the Religious
Leaders."
"In your land..." Trowa's eyes grew wide. "Your people did this,
didn't they?! Why?!"
The blond fixed the taller man's torn and filthy robe when it
threatened to slip off one hip. "When the war ended centuries ago, my people
were forced into the deserts, what is now known as the Land of Sand. It was
very difficult for them in the beginning, and many died from the harshness of
life. After many centuries, we did learn to adjust, but it was never
forgotten what was forced upon us. There has been plans of this for years,
but I am surprised that they were truly set to working."
"What plans?"
"....my people plan to take over your land, the Land of Green."
Trowa grabbed the front of Quatre's shirt. "You knew this was going
to happen, and you came to my home as a symbol of peace?! How could you do
something like that to me? You said you cared about me!"
"I do care about you!" Quatre nearly shouted. "I did not deceive
you! I didn't know that this attack was planned! I was a distraction."
*So, he was used by his own people.* Trowa sighed *Father owns a
house in the next town over, so we could live there until this town is
rebuilt. Of course, I'll have to have new clothes made, but that shouldn't be
a problem-*
"Trowa, I want you to come with me," Quatre said suddenly, breaking
into his thoughts.
Trowa stared at the blond. "Surely, you're joking. If you're
worried about me not having a home, in the next town-"
"What happens when that town is destroyed? And the next? You'll run
out of places to go soon."
"But...there is nothing for me in your land!"
"There is nothing for you here, either." Quatre ran his fingers
through the brunet's long bangs, causing him to flinch. "Trowa, aren't you
tired of living in a place where you cannot express your true feelings about
anything? A place where if you are the smallest amount different you are
shunned?"
*That sounds familiar.* Smiling, Trowa remembered one evening last
summer when Lord Marquise had invited him to have dinner with him and Lord
Kushrenada. After the meal, Treize had become quite drunk, and began to rant
about everything that was wrong with the world. He stood on a chair,
proclaimed that the social system was corrupt, and promptly passed out into
Zechs' lap.*I wonder if they're all right.*
"Quatre, could you take me somewhere?"
* * *
Trowa inhaled sharply as they arrived at the Kushrinada-Marquise
estate, saying a silent prayer for his friends. Half of the building had been
completely crushed, the other half striped with scorch marks. *If anything
happened to Zechs and Treize, I'll-I'll find a way to kill whomever led this
attack.*
Scanning the grounds around the manor, he spotted a large wagon
being loaded, a tall man with blond hair directing several burly men carrying
furniture. *That's Zechs.*
"Quatre, we need to go over to him.* It had been difficult for
Trowa to ride the mile-and-a-half to his friends' home, but he was simply too
weak to walk. He'd been seated in front of Quatre on the horse so could both
lean back against the smaller man, and direct the animal.
Quatre dismounted, then looked up at the brunet. "How would you
like me to help you?" he asked politely, smiling to himself. Trowa's clothes
had all been buried when his house collapsed, and he'd insisted he couldn't
go anywhere looking like he did. So, he had to borrow clothing from a member
of the prince's escort. *If he was wearing a face mask, he'd look like one of
us.*
"Let me...try something," Trowa muttered, swinging his leg over to
sit sidesaddle, facing Quatre. He placed both hands on the smaller man's
shoulders and jumped down, counting on Quatre to keep his balance. Quatre,
who wasn't expect this, panicked and throw his arms around Trowa's waist
quickly as he felt himself falling backwards. He grunted as the taller man's
weight crashed down on him, quickly glancing up to see if he was all right.
"I think that was the most ungraceful thing I've ever seen," Zechs
commented from above them, highly amused. He helped Trowa to his feet,
steadying the younger man when it looked as though he was bound for the
ground again. "Shouldn't you thank this nice young man for breaking your
fall?"
Embarrassed, Trowa murmured a hasty thank-you before looking at
Zechs and saying "I'm glad to see you're all right. Where's Lord Kushrenada?"
Lord Marquise sighed, looking both entertained and exasperated. "We
were in the bedroom when the ceiling started to fall. We went for the door,
but we heard fire burning outside of it, and the knob was too hot to touch. I
started to go for the window, but Treize threw himself on me so I wouldn't
get hurt by debris." Zechs shook his head. "It wasn't exactly a wise thing to
do, but I'll give him credit for bravery."
"He's all right, though?"
"Oh, yes. He's right over there." Zechs gestured to a chase lounge
that was placed on the front lawn, where Treize was indeed sitting. White
cloth strips were wrapped around his head to form a crude bandage. "He just
has a deep gash near his temple."
Trowa stepped to the older man's side when a mattress was brought
past, one of the carriers nearly knocking him off-balance again. "Where are
you taking all of your furniture?"
Zechs, who'd been watching two of the workers argue Treize off of
the lounge, gave Trowa a long look before saying "Treize and I purchased a
small island last year. We're moving there."
The brunette was stunned. "Why so far away? Don't you have an
estate in another town?"
Treize came up behind Zechs, wrapping both arms around him and
drawing his elegant frame against his own. "We're tired of playing this game,
Trowa; we want out. We need a place where we can truly be ourselves."
Seeing that their young friend was in a state of shock, Zechs
gently pulled away from his lover and put his hands on Trowa's shoulders.
"You're a good man, Lord Barton, but you're incredibly naive." Smiling, Zechs
leaned in and kissed Trowa's cheek. "Thank you for being a friend to us." He
glanced up at the wagon, and pulled his hands away when one of the workers
gave him a signal that everything was ready. "Good-bye, Trowa."
As Zechs walked away, Trowa sank to his knees. "Has the entire
world gone mad?!" he cried, starling Quatre, who had leaned in to help him to
his feet again. Waving the prince away, Trowa wobbled over to the waiting
horse with an air of askew dignity.
"Young man," Treize called to Quatre, who has begun to follow Trowa.
When he turned, Treize smiled and said "watch over him; he possesses a
confused heart."
* * *
"Have you decided yet what you're going to do?" Quatre asked softly
as they rode back towards the remains of the Barton manor.
Trowa frowned and opened his mouth to reply, but stopped abruptly
as they rode by the Vulpes estate.
The once grand building must have been near where the attacks had
begun, for it had been completely leveled. Jocasta was sitting on a pile of
rubble that most likely used to be her bedchambers, bawling. Several people,
including her father, were trying to comfort her, but she wouldn't let up.
*I should feel sorry for her...but I don't.* The sense of smug
satisfaction quickly smothered the small twinge of sympathy Trowa felt for
his ex-fiancee.
After a moment, Jocasta finally calmed, wiping her eyes with the
end of her dress. Looking up, she screamed, pointing dramatically. "That's
him! That's the one he had an affair with!"
It took Trowa a moment to realize she was pointing to Quatre, and
he felt his heart sink. There would be no explaining his way out of her
accusation; he was leaning back against the blond, Quatre's arms around his
waist to hold him secure, putting them in a position that could seem intimate
to an observer. To add to that, Trowa was dressed in the clothing of Quatre's
people. *That HAG!*
"Trowa?" The prince queried when he felt the taller man stiffen.
"What is it?" he hadn't heard Jocasta's screams clearly enough to translate
them in his mind, so he didn't understand what was wrong.
*If I stay, I'll be an outcast and possibly killed. If I go, I'll
be lost, out of place, and utterly confused.* "Quatre?"
"Yes, what is it?"
Trowa sighed and looked out towards the setting sun. "Take me home
with you."
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