False Wedding on the Ocean
By Tamerine
Cecilia stood in front of the long mirror in the small,
stuffy chamber of the ship, staring at her reflection in the shadowed glass.
She was wearing a long, white and rather elaborate gown of white lace, and
a gauzy veil framed her oval face, barely concealing the unruly pale strands
of shortish hair that somehow managed to escape from beneath it, and fall
across her cheeks in a rather disarrayed fashion. She brushed them back
irritably. She felt as she knew that she looked: completely ridiculous.
This was a bad idea, she thought with a grimace; and a
horrendous joke besides. And the most frustrating thing was that Jack seemed
to relish this absurd situation-- as always, of course, with his air of
half-sarcastic humor. He never taunted her outright, but it was precisely
this manner that irritated Cecilia, more than any words openly said would
have. He enjoys this stupid hoax, she thought resentfully, because it comes
largely at my expanse.
She looked at herself again and shook her head. She had
tried her best at properly arraying herself, but it still wasn't enough.
She looked-- and felt-- like a little beggar trying fancy clothes on in hiding.
And a lacy wedding dress, of all things.
It's this meaningless journey, she thought, with the returning
tinge of anger and dejection she felt at times. Perhaps I should have never
joined it in the first place; I should have stayed, as I was advised. But
I wanted to prove myself in doing it, didn't I? And the funny thing is, that
I'm still not sure to who it was, that I needed to prove myself. To the people
of Adlehyde, to the memory of my father, to that derisive Swordsman, or to
myself. Or to no one at all.
And why no one? Cecilia thought. Because it really matters
to no one. I am doing it to be the "Princess" they're all looking up to,
or the "Princess" who is just as good as a wandering swordsman, who wants
to think her a burden on him and his mission.
Cecilia's eyes darkened at the recurring recall of Jack's
mission-- that damned mission of his that he would say to her nothing of.
Cecilia had evidence that Jack met, or saw, the demons before; but he never
told her how, never revealed his full purpose in pursuing them. She shook
herself angrily. Just another sign of his mistrust of me, she thought. Because
I am just a troublesome girl whom he isn't inclined to trust fully. Like
everyone else, he sees me as the "Princess", and like them, he doesn't care
who is behind that guise I always have to wear on me. As always, *I* don't
matter.
Wallowing in self-pity, she felt the tears rushing to
her eyes, but that mood was cut abruptly short when the door pushed open
and Rudy entered the room.
Cecilia raised her eyes to the boy, who came to her side
and looked her over with a mildly curious stare. Despite her bad mood, she
couldn't help but smile at his slightly doubtful expression. "How do I look?"
she asked, a little mockingly. "Aren't I beautiful, Rudy?"
He was still looking her over thoughtfully, and he nodded
absently. Cecilia couldn't help but laugh all of a sudden; she knew he didn't
really catch her meaning, and his agreement amused her. "That's right," she
said. "I look perfectly splendid, don't I?"
The door opened again to admit Jack, and Cecilia bristled
at once, averting her eyes back towards the mirror. Her features relapsed
to their former discontented expression; Jack's presence reminded her again
of the stupid humiliation of her present venture, of his mistrust of her--
of-- of-- everything.
Jack came over to her side, seeming to scrutinize her
appearance for a moment. "Well," he said, after a short silence, "I can see
that you're ready, Cecilia."
Cecilia did not avert her eyes from the mirror. "You think
it's very funny, Jack, don't you?" she said, her tone petulant. She didn't
mean to sound petulant, but she couldn't help herself.
Jack's mouth curled a little at her tone. "Yes, I do,"
he replied. Cecilia straightened at once, the anger returning. Instead of
turning towards him, she met his eyes in the mirror. "It was all your doing!"
she said, her voice biting with the accusation.
Jack's eyes narrowed. "Now THAT is perfect rot," he said
after a short pause, his voice very composed; a sure sign of annoyance Cecilia
had already learned to recognize. "It had nothing to do with me, and you
know it."
He could perceive Cecilia was in one of her childishly
bad moods, and as much as their recurrence irritated him, he always tried
to ascribe it to her rearing as a spoiled child, and take it with a rather
strained humor. Cecilia understood this, and the fact that this forbearance
of his was always mingled with sarcasm, directed at her inability to control
her temper as she ought, always angered her twicefold.
She kept her eyes on the mirror, not knowing what to say
in reply. Of course it wasn't Jack's fault, that the drunken Bartholomew
falsely claimed her to he his fiancee; but the fact that Jack seemed to derive
amusement from the situation irritated her beyond anything, and somehow,
she felt as if he was to blame too-- for seeming to endorse the embarrassment
she was undergoing. She felt susceptible, open to that hidden derision she
always felt in him. It was only part of the humiliation. No, she thought
angrily; it WAS the humiliation. To Jack she replied, "Then stop behaving
as if it was the funniest thing you've ever heard of."
Jack looked her over curiously. "I must admit that seeing
you in a wedding gown IS funny, to me," he said, coolly. "You certainly aren't
ready for one."
A hot blush suffused her cheeks, and she turned to him.
"Then just leave, if you've nothing else to say about this!" she said, sharply.
Jack was silent for a moment, seeming to try and control his own irritation
at her behavior. Then he said, quite calmly, "I only came to tell you that
you should arrange yourself soon-- they are waiting for you on the deck,
with the priest, the flowers, and the crowd." A smile bent his mouth again,
and Cecilia reddened again in spite of herself. She had a sudden, defiant
resolution. "Well, they can wait," she said, her voice very composed all
at once. "Because I'm not going."
Jack stared at this declaration. "What did you say?"
"You heard me," Cecilia replied, finally turning her face
to him with a stubborn, dark look in her eyes. "I'm not going there. I'm
not carrying this stupid thing through. They can all rot up there waiting
for all I care." She tore the veil off her head and threw it to the floor.
Then she turned to Jack. "Get out," she said. "I'm taking this dress off.
You too, Rudy," she continued, turning to Rudy now. "Leave the room, both
of you."
Jack spoke, a little sharply now. "Cecilia, we promised
the captain to help him, and you know that very well. And you know why we
did it."
Cecilia ignored him. She pointed Rudy towards the door
calmly. Rudy obeyed, walking slowly towards it, but he was looking backwards
at Cecilia and Jack, with a half-apprehensive expression. He knew they were
about to embark upon one of their arguments again. When they were busy with
the travels an open confrontation was usually avoided; despite the mutual
feeling of exasperation they often raised in each other, they curbed it in
face of their joined purpose and the difficulty of traveling. But the moment
they arrived at a town and settled a little more comfortably, the friction
between them rose again with jarring rapidity.
Seeing Cecilia ignore him, Jack's voice turned biting.
"Listen, Cecilia; this is no time for your childish whims. We need you to
do it, to get Bartholomew's ship, and to the statue of the Guardian; and
you will do what we promised, whether you like it or not."
Cecilia's face turned crimson at the word "childish".
She was very fair-skinned, and a blush on her tended to enhance the general
paleness of her aspect; she always looked very odd that way, and Jack found
himself smirking at her confusion, despite his anger. She perceived that
he was laughing at her again, and her wrath intensified. "I'll do as I please!"
she said, her voice starting to tremble under the strain of anger. "I am
my own independent person, Jack. I will not do something because you order
me to, and this is something I decided not to do. This is something that
is completely humiliating to me, and I will not do it. So you better accept
it."
Jack's face darkened again at her reply; but he answered
with unexpected composure. "Stop talking all this damned rubbish, Cecilia.
There is no humiliation in what you are about to do. Deceit, yes, but no
humiliation."
She looked at him disdainfully. "Really? I thought you
yourself found it very funny, didn't you? And it seems to me that half of
the people of this town know the whole thing is a sham. Well, I'm not giving
you or anybody else any more of this stupid spectacle. I'm leaving-- and
we'll find another way of doing this."
Jack looked at her set face, and his eyes narrowed. He
seemed about to reply, when there was a sudden knock on the door.
Rudy opened it at once, and it revealed one of the sailors,
who saluted them with an apologetic grin. "A thousand pardons, Miss," he
said, looking towards Cecilia. "But the Skipper, he wants to know if you're
all ready."
Cecilia turned, looking at the man. There was a long pause;
Jack looked at Cecilia keenly, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He was
waiting, expecting her to fully reveal her shortcomings-- and she knew it.
After a short silence she said, her voice very calm: "Tell him we'll be up
soon."
The sailor touched his hat with his fingers again, nodding.
"Thank you, Miss," he said, sounding truly grateful. "Your help is greatly
appreciated by all of us, the Skipper especially." He looked her over. "I
must say that you look very nice," he commented kindly.
"Thank you," Cecilia replied, a little edgily. She knew
the man said she looked "nice" because he couldn't say she looked "beautiful",
and thus his kindness only served to irk her. The sailor smiled at her, probably
not noticing her ire; he nodded again and turned, walking out. Jack looked
towards Cecilia, and his lip curled in a smile. "Glad to see you changed
your mind," he said, after a short silence.
She turned and glared at him darkly. "I am doing it for
the mission, remember?" she said, tartly. "I didn't forget it, Jack. And
it is for YOUR mission too-- to revenge some personal injury of yours on
those demons."
Jack straightened at once, the look in his eyes oddly
fierce; Cecilia cringed a little beneath it, but she could hardly curb her
feeling of elation. She had hit a right mark, at last, and they both knew
it.
She waited, a little nervously now, wondering what Jack
would say. But, after staring at her for a while very steadily, he merely
turned around. "All right," he said, behind his shoulder. "Let us at least
pretend we enjoy this, shall we?" He nodded to Rudy, and vanished up the
stairs of the ship. Cecilia sighed a little to herself, looking at Rudy.
"Let's go, then," she said, after a short pause. "Rudy, will you escort me
to the exit?"
Rudy nodded, and Cecilia smiled a little again. "Good,"
she said, her voice sarcastic. "Then let the show begin."
Outside it was very hot, despite the cool ocean breeze,
and Cecilia found herself more bored than agitated as the wedding ceremony
proceeded. As for Bartholomew, he had recovered from his drunken spell, and
he was standing opposite her with a perfectly pale countenance. Cecilia could
tell he was not used to deceiving people; he looked as nervous as he felt,
and he fidgeted incessantly, his fingers constantly adjusting his tie. He
seemed almost afraid that the crowd gathered for the "wedding" will attempt
to break his charade; most of them, he knew, were simply people who were
curious to see if he will "carry it through". And, as he told Jack in a rather
miserable voice, he was already a looked upon with either derision or amusement
by the people of Port Timney, for marrying a girl almost twenty years younger
than himself that no one had seen before. He did not dare to glance in the
direction where his rival Drake was sitting with his friends, their countenances
smug and suffused with a thinly veiled contempt.
Jack had detailed the false name and history to that he
had constructed for the situation to Cecilia just before they went outside,
and she had recited it dutifully after him, trying to pretend that nothing
of significance had been said shortly before. By Jack's calm, set look she
saw that he was certainly trying to do the same, and for a moment she wondered
if she had said something that will permanently damage their partnership--
because if it was nothing, it was at least a partnership, she thought with
a renewed sense of aggravation. Afterwards she simply walked up to the dock
with him, blinking in the strong sun. The audience were a blurry set of faces--
she didn't know any of these people, of course.
She heard whispers as she walked down the isle, leaning
on Jack's arm. "So young-- think she's pretty?-- All right, but too pale,
don't you think?-- I think he found her in one of those northern places--
Adlehyde, they called it. --Oh, it's a rich place, isn't it? --So he's probably
marrying her for her money."
Cecilia almost laughed outloud at all these ridiculous
guesses. She felt even better when she saw Rudy standing at the Priest's
side, serving with Jack as the two witnesses. He looked slightly agitated--
something unusual for him-- probably feeling for her situation. She smiled
at him to show him she was feeling all right, and he smiled back at once,
seeming a little reassured.
Now, after half-an-hour ceremony, she didn't know if Rudy
was standing besides her or not; she was staring rather blankly into
Bartholomew's face. He himself avoided her eyes; probably feeling like a
proper idiot, she thought sardonically. Well, he deserves it-- every bit
of discomfort. And still, we needed to get to him and his ship. She looked
at him with an almost calculating gaze. Yes, she was doing him a favor, but
he was the loser from it-- he'll have to explain a vanishing bride afterwards
to all those who were stupid enough to actually believe he had married her.
Her lips twisted in a stifled laugh at the thought. This was all so absurd!
The Priest's words finally roused her from her half-dozed
boredom, and she answered the questions almost mechanically. Of course she
knew her assumed name, Olivia Clare (Why did Jack choose such a name anyway?),
and that they must be blessed under the Old Moon and the Guardian Lucadia--
all that ceremonial nonsense. She had to answer the right question to make
everyone think they loved each other properly, and that the marriage was
wanted. As for me, I don't have a true love, she thought, feeling the cold
needle of self-pity stabbing her again. Well, maybe Rudy cares for me-- for
some reason-- but not much beyond it. And besides, she reasoned, Rudy is
odd. He seems to be my friend almost because he feels he ought to, or something
of that sort. Almost as if he was looking for anyone to care for, and I was
the first that chanced on his way for a long time. That might be it.
If this is what you think of yourself, said a voice in
her head, nobody will like you for sure, and you'll never be sure of it at
any rate.
The Priest's voice roused her again. "You may kiss the
bride."
Cecilia was jerked wide awake at this, and she looked
at Bartholomew with a half-accusing, half embarrassed expression. She didn't
want this man to kiss her!
The crowd seemed to jeer a little as a short pause ensued,
and at the head of the voices was the voice of Drake: "Kiss her, man! Why
don't you do it?"
Jack now advanced. Drake had been a nuisance throughout
the ceremony, and he had enough of him. "Listen," he said, standing on the
deck above the sitting people below. "If you aren't quiet right now, you'll
find a spot of trouble with me later. Understand?"
Drake opened his mouth, his thin face darkening, but he
closed it at the Swordsman's expression. He could tell that Jack was perfectly
serious; so instead of answering he haunched his shoulders sullenly, muttering
something under his breath. But he did not repeat his taunt.
Meanwhile, the Priest was looking at the couple, mildly
puzzled at their perceived reluctance. Cecilia's face was red; she knew the
whole guise was being blown off. "All right," she whispered, her voice low
so the Priest won't catch her words. "Let's just get it over with."
Just as she finished speaking there was a sudden disturbance,
and a voice cried from somewhere above them: "Halt!"
The crowd, all as one, turned their faces up. Cecilia
likewise turned her head, puzzled at this seemingly providential voice, and
unsure whether or not she ought to be grateful for its interference. Her
eyes met a rather odd spectacle: a tall man clad in blue, who was standing
on the ship's side just above them, his scarf blowing in the brusque winds
that came from the ocean. But the strange thing about him-- the thing that
struck Cecilia at once-- was the color of his hair. It was green.
She stared at him; yes, certainly this was no ordinary
man. In fact, if it wasn't for his humane appearance, she would have thought
he was sent by the--
"Listen you all!" The odd warrior's voice broke Cecilia's
thoughts. He was looking at the crowd below, raising his hand with a show
of flourish. Cecilia could see that it clutched a large, black, lethal-looking
blade. If this man knew how to use this thing, she thought, then he WAS a
serious threat-- despite his strange appearance. The man's voice continued--
confirming Cecilia's unnamed apprehension. "I am Zed, emissary of the Demon
Knights--" here he paused, his face clouding a little for a moment; but then
he continued, his voice rising again: "--and I have come to break the Statue
of the Seal!"
Despite her growing agitation, Cecilia found herself oddly
amused. This man has such a distinct air of ceremonial vanity about him,
that the spectacle he presented was almost more comical than daunting. She
turned her head to Jack, but she could see at once that he, at least, did
not seem to find it funny. "Damn," he muttered. "I should've known it would
have ended that way-- this idiot is definitely looking to give us trouble.
Cecilia!" He now approached her with a brisk step, with Rudy hurrying to
his side. "Prepare yourself. You all--" he turned to the audience-- "Keep
clear! We'll be taking care of this."
The people hastened to obey; no one had a wish to deal
with a real demon. The Demon warrior seemed pleased at their obvious fear,
and his countenance brightened considerably. "Fall back!" he cried almost
cheerily, jumping down to the deck. "I am in a GREAT mood today, and so is
my blade, the Doom Bringer!"
Jack advanced, dragging Cecilia after him; she was
half-stumbling in her elaborate dress. "Let go of my arm, Jack!" she said
angrily, attempting to jerk her arm away. "I can walk by myself!"
Jack released her arm almost negligently; his attention
was not on her, but on the demon warrior. He unsheathed his sword, facing
Zed with a hardened expression, and Cecilia, looking into his face, was once
again struck by the distinct look of hatred she perceived in it. It was the
same look she had seen on him when she came to his aid in Adlehyde, as he,
foolishly she thought, faced and challenged Belselk. Now, these emotions
seemed to surface in him with a redoubled force. "If you wish to get to the
Sacred Statue, demon, you will have to pass through ME first," he said, with
dangerous coldness. "I will not fail to stop you THIS time."
Zed seemed unperturbed at this declaration, nor impressed
with the hatred he faced. Cecilia could guess, looking into the demon's not
quite intelligent countenance, that he couldn't really understand the force
of this animosity in Jack. He was, Cecilia surmised, both too simple to
distinguish a challenge from a real threat, and too occupied with himself
besides to care. She was therefore not surprised when the demon straightened
with his usual flourish, an arrogant smirk on his face. "So you care to challenge
me?" he cried, raising his black blade, the Doom Bringer, in one hand. "Well,
you humans will all die before the sacred Statue you seek to protect!"
Before Zed could finish his words, Jack sprang towards
him, bringing his sword down. A pure force of light generated from the blade,
sweeping upwards in a powerful surge as it sank into the demon's flesh; one
of Jack's sword techniques. Zed seemed stunned for a moment as the energy
coursed through his body, electrifying him, and he staggered. Jack withdrew,
a grim smile of satisfaction bending his mouth. Cecilia thought that he looked
almost pleased, and she shuddered a little at that fierce light of hatred
she could detect in his eyes again; the same look he had when she mentioned
the demons.
A sudden shout rose from the ship's northern side, distracting
Cecilia's attention. "Help! The Demons are here!"
Jack looked backwards, and he swore. "Damn, I knew it!
That idiot was a mere decoy." He looked at Cecilia and Rudy. "You two get
rid of this one," he said, with a sharp, commanding voice. "I'll handle the
other." Then, he turned and walked quickly towards the direction of the
commotion.
"Wait Jack!" Cecilia cried, running after him, and stumbling
in her long dress again. "You can't take one by yourself!" Zed, who had managed
to rise to his feet again, found himself facing Rudy.
Rudy had his Prism Ray in hand, and he raised it quite
calmly towards the Demon. The warrior fell back a little before the sight
of the ARM, but then he collected himself and raised his blade again, leaping
towards Rudy.
Rudy barely managed to dodge the fatal blow directed at
him. The sword, slashing at his arm, glowed with a shower of sparks that
engulfed it. He breathed in pain and fell back; a blue ray of light shot
from the ARM at the Demon. Zed was engulfed in the scorching beams, and he
stood almost baffled as they singed him thoroughly. He didn't feel any pain,
of course, but the hot rays stole his energy, and he nearly collapsed.
Rudy stood, waiting patiently for the results of his assault;
with one hand, he silently clutched at his aching arm, wishing Cecilia was
there to help him. But he knew had to maintain his duty-- to stay as Jack
commanded, and get rid of the menace of the demon before him.
Zed, rising to his feet again, shook the black soot the
rays of the ARM generated off himself. "Next time it won't be so easy, I
promise you!" he shouted, shaking the blade in his hand. Then, he leapt to
the ship's side again and vanished.
Clutching at his injured arm and moving slowly, Rudy walked
in the direction that Jack and Cecilia had gone to.
The first sight that met Cecilia's eyes, as they neared
the sacred statue, was of a very tall woman in a warrior's armor who was
standing right before it, a long, wickedly curved scythe held in one hand.
She paused just behind Jack, panting a little from running, and stared at
the woman, puzzled. Was she the demon the people spoke of?
The woman turned around, and Cecilia winced, her thought
answered. This was definitely a demoness; she was very human-looking-- indeed,
she has the aspect of a very beautiful woman, with a purely white face, and
fire-red hair-- but there was something mechanical to her demeanor, something
oddly hard, an extreme shade to her paleness, that instantly indicated that
she was not quite as human as she seemed. Zed had been a comical menace;
but the danger in this one was almost tangible, generated through her metal
body, the almost too living shades of her hair, the death Cecilia perceived
in her countenance.
Jack paused before the woman, his sword raised. "Who are
you?" he asked, his voice ringing in the silent air, and his face assumed
a curiously hard and intent expression. "I haven't seen YOU before!"
The demoness gazed at him with a sharp look in her dark
eyes. "Perhaps," she replied, "but I think that I have seen YOU." Her voice
was very calm and, Cecilia thought, feeling a little disturbed, very rich
and full and-- alive; a peculiar contrast to her deathlike aspect. She stared
at the demoness, whose face was once again assumed a neutral expression,
and who was looking up, beyond Jack's shoulder. "It seems that I would have
some work after all," she remarked, evenly. "Of course Zed couldn't take
care of you by himself."
Jack advanced towards the demoness, seeming to collect
his senses again. "I don't care who you are, but you will not get the Statue,"
he said, through clenched teeth. "Not you, nor your masters." He leapt towards
her, his sword raised in preparation for one of his Fast Draw techniques.
But the demoness raised her scythe, answering it with surprising precision,
almost as if she knew exactly where his sword would land. "Good try," she
remarked coldly, as Jack fell back, staring at her with astonishment. "But
your Fast Draw definitely needs improvement, Swordsman."
Then, she sprang towards the statue, slashing at it with
her scythe. The statue broke into two pieces, the top piece rolling to the
floorboards of the ship. "My job is done here," she said, turning to Jack
with an oddly taunting look in her eyes. "Right now I ought to kill you,
but I think it beneath me-- someone else will have to do it. I am Lady Harken;
remember my name, Swordsman." Then, demon-fashion, she warped and vanished
into thin air.
Cecilia looked at Jack. He had risen to his feet, swearing
profusely. "Damn, damn, damn!!" he muttered, over and over. "I failed-- I
failed to protect it. She broke the seal. She was faster than me. She-- she
knows Fast Draw!"
He fell silent, his face dark with concentration. Finally,
after a pause, Cecilia ventured, "Jack?"
He looked at her. "What is it?" he asked, harshly.
There was a long pause, in which Cecilia examined his
expression without answering, trying to gather her courage-- and to ask the
question, once and for all. Finally, she spoke. "Where did you see the demons
before?"
Jack stared at her, for a pause that seemed to stretch
forever. Though he was looking at her, Cecilia sensed that he was not seeing
her at all-- he was seeing something else, perhaps someone else. For many
long moments she thought that, once again, her question will remain unanswered;
but then Jack turned around. "I will tell you about this later, Cecilia,"
he said. "But one thing I CAN tell you now: I have never seen Lady Harken
before."
He walked away, leaving Cecilia feeling she had finally
made the step to break the wall-- the step she had strove so hard towards.
But what it meant exactly, she wasn't quite sure.