thanks for the memories [open]

[Zeirelle]

“Look! A Flame trespasser!”

Crouched behind a dry, brown rock, Zeirelle quickly hissed for her sibling to lower his voice. He was staring with wide blue eyes at the lithe figure stepping along the border, the red-gold blend of dead grass and earth that looked as if it was stained with blood. The twelve-year-old appeared ready to pounce, his pathetic knife clasped in his growing hand, but the teenager shushed him once more and stood up. Uncertainty flashed across her face when the Flame initiate looked over at her, and the wariness only deepened when the strange girl’s face broke out into a friendly, broad grin.

“Well hi,” the girl greeted enthusiastically. She looked small but also well-muscled, lean and agile. Her blonde hair was cropped short, spiked erratically as strands clumped together from the wind. Everything about her, while most wouldn’t give her a passing glance, seemed threatening.

“Hello,” Zeir said in a voice low with suspicion. “What are you doing here, so close to the border?”

The blonde girl grinned again and shuffled backwards, a smart-alecky way of suggesting that she wasn’t so close to the invisible boundary line between the two opposing elements. However, a slightly gentler look brightened her brown eyes as she responded without missing a beat. “I’m here because I always pace by here. You two must be here because you’re sneaking away, judging by your fidgeting.”

Zeirelle shut her gaping mouth, though remained tongue-tied. Absently she gripped her brother’s shoulder as the kid attempted to trudge toward the so-called threat. Uncomfortable about admitting this truth and knowing she would feel like a fool trying to deny those claims, she instead changed the subject. “Who are you?” she asked, tone sharp though her worried eyes betrayed her.

“Me?” The girl’s characteristic, charming and life-loving grin never left her face as she bowed teasingly. “I’m Kess.”

***

Do you remember?

Zeir smiled slightly as she looked out across the border, perched on that dirty old rock, the wind tugging at her white hair. Its tips were as scarlet as the silk ribbon tied around her wrist, which fluttered in the breeze as if it had a life of its own. She opened her eyes after the reverie played through her mind and sighed. It was warm here, a mere taste of the dreadful heat that the southern Order must be facing right now. Her sleeves were rolled up just above the elbow, allowing the wind to kiss her skin, soft pecks she knew too well from the land of Flames.

Well, of course you remember.

She rose reluctantly from the rock and began to pace along the flat earth of the plateau. She was supposedly collecting herbs to restock on the medicines they still were running short on from the virus currently spreading through one of the villages. Initially she took the job as an excuse to avoid coming in contact with the illness, but coming back to this old spot was an involuntary result of setting out.

How can we forget the pathetic snarl on Seikos’ face?

Smirking, the Frost apothecary stood still and reached up to touch her hair when it flowed with the caressing breezes. It was so easy to lose her mind in memories like this, and she must remember to look behind her from time to time. Eventually she would have to go to collect the medicinal plants as she had promised, but right now she didn’t want to. She was oddly at peace, a rarity for her, a rarity for her thoughts to have purpose at all. When she remembered Kess, the world was different.

[ALEXANDER]

Alexander skidded to a halt, bright green eyes narrowed as he bit back a hiss of pain. Well, at least he had managed to outrun his assailant. That is the last time he goes wondering by Junko's house again, that damned dog of theirs was something to behold. That thing was probably more vicious than any other beast that walked Ysera! And, unfortunately for Alexander, it had felt threatened when he approached their house to take a short cut around the side of it. He'd never run so fast in his entire life.

But, his victory over the massive wolf-dog was short lived, bright irises hidden behind his lids as he took a deep breath and raised his trembling, right hand. He'd fallen during his flight and made the mistake of shoving his hand near the dogs mouth to keep it away from his throat once it had pounced upon him. It probably though of his hand as something that resembled a chew toy, a very fragile, easily pierced chew toy. Blood was leaking from several scratches, scrapes, and puncture wounds inflicted by the dog's sharp teeth, the thick trails moving down his arm and threatening to get onto his furs. God forbid. Every predator from miles around would be trying to invade his home just to get at his clothes.

He walked on, shaking some of the massive amounts of blood on the grass. Hey, could have been worse, right? It could have torn his hand completely off and ran off with it. How is an Apothecary supposed to fix a lost limb without the other half? Exactly.

He looked up from his bleeding appendage, blinking once to find a slighter form looming ahead of him, seemingly just walking around. But he knew better, no one just... walked around anymore. Everyone was always doing something, just like he had been going to get another pack of cigarettes before he had been attacked by that god forsaken monster of a dog. They better apologize when he goes back around, or at least pay for the expenses that would be owed to an Apothecary.

Speaking of which...

As he drew near, recognition flooded his senses. Oh yeah, well what do you know, an Apothecary. He knew her to be the healer of their town, but a name was lost to him. He rarely had to go get injuries patched up, due to the fact that he could pretty much avoid conflict and weasel out of any type of situation.

"Excuse me, am I disturbing you?" He asked, the smooth baritone of his voice passing through the cool air as he lifted his opposite hand in greeting. The blood was easy to see in contrast to the grays that made up his attire. If she was taking a break or something, he could always just come back later, despite the sharp stings and burning sensations that were making his fingers twitch.

Ouch.

[Zeirelle]

The tall shape of another person approaching soon interrupted her solitary wandering. She paused, head tipped slightly to the side, as she regarded the man and the dull color of his clothing evident from afar even as she continued pacing closer to him. He was definitely of the Frost Order—no one south of here could get away with wearing such drab apparel, and the members of Chaos hadn’t shown their bloodthirsty faces in about a month. She smiled once she was close enough to recognize the bright green shimmer of his eyes. This one was quite the looker.

“Excuse me,” the older man said, his low voice traveling easily through the frigid air around them. “Am I disturbing you?” He lifted his hand to greet her, and with the gesture his injury became apparent. Immediately disposing of any thoughts to his attractiveness, she released a low and loud breath and stepped closer to him, snatching his arm just above the wrist and turning the bloody fingers over to look closer at them.

Zeirelle met his emerald gaze fleetingly and tugged him lightly in the direction of the old dull stone that she had perched on earlier. “Come sit over here. I have some water and bandages, at least, though not much to help with the pain. Did you get attacked by a wolf or something? Wild animals generally do not approve of being petted.” She smirked at the irony of his timber-pelted cloak and headed over to a bag deposited by the rock. Inside was a flask of water and some gauze. Without daring to ask, she grabbed his arm again, whether he was sitting down like she ordered or not, and poured some of the liquid over the lacerations to wash any dirt or grime away before slowly and deliberately bandaging it.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the apothecary asked, not daring to look up. “You have an air of importance about you. But I’ve never seen you before.”

Well, that was a lie. She knew that he was one of the Frost Lieutenants, though she had honestly never committed his name to mind. She hadn’t seen him personally to treat his wounds, or she would have been able to call up his name in a heartbeat. The wind played with her red-tipped white hair, getting into her odd eyes, before a quick flick of her head allowed her to see the wound more clearly again.

[ALEXANDER]

The young lady noticed him almost immediately, her strangely bi-colored eyes swimming over his fur-covered form. And while she was doing that, he took the time to look her over as well. She was a slender young girl, not all that bad looking, snowy white hair dyed crimson at the tips. Interesting. He was quite surprised when she approached him suddenly, grabbing his larger, bleeding hand between her smaller ones, forcefully turning it over and examining his bloody fingers. Quite... demanding, though he said nothing and just went along with it, she was the Apothecary after all and was supposed to know what she was doing. Supposed to.

He obediently sat on the stone she had dragged him over to, straightening himself so as not to appear too sloppy while she got her limited supplies together and tended to his hand. Despite the frigid atmosphere, the water felt soothing on his burning cuts, the water diluting the blood and hitting the grass below as a pinkish liquid. Well, he'd never thought that he would be this relieved to have ice-cold water poured all over his hand. In fact, the numbness that was trying to settle in his fingers was somewhat relaxing. At least that took care of the pain that she hadn't been able to take care of.

"Did you get attacked by a wolf or something? Wild animals generally do not approve of being petted.”

His smile was tiny. "No, I made the even worse mistake of passing by Junko's house, and their rabid beast chased me down and attacked me," he didn't need to explain what beast he was talking about. That wolf-dog was infamous around here, and did not need an elaborate introduction. Besides, its not like it would justify his injuries anymore than normal. It was a simple mistake, no big deal, right?

Sweetheart? He'd never been a fan of pet names, but just this once, he'd make an exception. "I am Alexander, may I ask yours, Apothecary?" he asked, green eyes calmly watching as she kept her eyes intensely focused upon his hand while she bandaged it. She seemed pretty dedicated, or maybe just didn't want this to seem awkward.

Alexander didn't think he needed to state his title, since Alexander in itself was an odd name in these lands and not often found. He was sure he was the only Alexander known to be the Lieutenant of the Frost.

He forced back a wince as her fingers skimmed lightly of a rather deep puncture wound. Ugh. That dog was going to regret what it had done, he would make sure it knew who was boss when he passed by there on his way back. Of course, he wasn't going to go so far as to kill it, but he'd give it a good display of dominance. "What brings you here? If you do not mind me asking," It was a lame attempt at conversation. but at least it passed the time.

[Zeirelle]

The man obeyed her touch, not complaining while she all but dragged him over to his seat so that he could rest. Normally, Zeirelle was careful with her patients once prepared. She hated to be the apothecary who pushed everyone around for their health. However, in her unpredictable mind, getting him a seat was deemed important. And soldiers had learned not to whine when those that were nursing them demanded cooperation. He was no different than them, just a bit quieter, as she doused the wound in cool water and watched the blood drain away from the clean pink cuts.

The lieutenant explained the situation to her, which caused her to laugh without much humor. “Get one of the higher-ups to talk to Junko. Having a rabid animal is an offense.” Not many people came to her with dog bites, usually just burns or sword and arrow wounds, but still just about everyone knew about the aggressive mutt and his tendency to jump passerby.

The apothecary could feel his green eyes on her as he asked for her name. She smiled momentarily, a split moment of indecision of rather to lie or not leaping through her mind, though unlike others who gave false names she had absolutely no reason to hide it. “Call me Zeir,” she said amiably. Few people actually bothered to shorten up her name, but she liked the sound of it. “So I was right about you being important. You could order Junko to put down the dog if you needed to.”

“What brings you here?” Alexander asked as she finished with one last wind of the bandage. “If you do not mind me asking.”

The young woman glanced up at him, fixing him in her pink and blue eyes, before smirking slightly and glancing out across the border to the lands of Flame. “Reminiscing,” she responded truthfully, though in the next heartbeat she shook her head and rested a hand on her hip as she looked at the blood-stained grass. “Hard to recall how many battles I’ve seen fought here, how many soldiers I’ve tended to.”

She glanced up at him, almost playfully. One could read it as flirting even though that wasn’t technically her intention this time; rather, she felt like teasing him. “You’re quiet, Alexander. Don’t like to talk much? Or are you one who simply feels no need for it?”

[ALEXANDER]

Alexander closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and biting back and cool hiss when the tight bandages suckled on the blood leaking from his puncture wounds. The smaller cuts didn't sting nearly as bad, or burn, and he had the solid urge to just... freeze something, mainly that damn dog who had caused this mess in the first place. But, he wasn't going to do something like that, why? Well, he wasn't exactly the nicest guy, but he felt more like a saint if he spared the wild beast's life. Besides, for some odd reason or another, Juunko's kids were in love with that thing, and it loved them right back. Maybe it jumped people out of an act of protection? Trying to protect the beings it loved more than its own life. Maybe, maybe not. A dog is the only thing that can love you more than he loves himself, his father had once told him. Yet, Alexander still had yet to obtain one, or just a pet in general. Why? Hell, he didn't know. Just never got around to it, he guessed.

Once she was finished he drew his hand back, first wiggling his fingers one by one, then attempting to ball his hand up into a fist. His nose wrinkled only slightly as his fingers went limp, most likely indicating that the stretching wounds on his hand did not appreciate the strain. Alexander found his head nodding automatically at her introduction, though whether it had been for that or for the job well done on his hand, he didn't know. Maybe it was both.

“So I was right about you being important. You could order Junko to put down the dog if you needed to.”

"Eh. Too much of a hassle. I'll just be more careful next time," he said with a delicate shrug of his shoulders. He didn't bother getting up, seeing as she was already doing so. "Much better. You did a good job," he complimented without a smile. He tried flexing his hand again, trying his best to mask the look of pain that wanted to rise along his visage. But, it was all in the flick of the wrist, then the mask could be switched out before anyone even noticed.

He listened to her answer and turned his head to look out across the landscape, eyes narrowing a fraction when they focused on Flame lands. Bleh. Bastards. Not wanting his thoughts to linger upon his enemies, he turned back toward Zeir, tilting his head at her playful remark and leaning back on the rock to look up at her for a moment.

"You don't seem all that chatty either, and my being quiet usually keeps me out of trouble." he nodded solemnly. "Besides, I like the air of mystery that usually couples silence. Keeps the ladies interested," his smile was weak, but there anyway. So that should count for something at least.

His mind suddenly seemed to be in far-off places, unreachable to him as he turned his eyes out to the lands beyond their borders. How many had fought here? Died here? How many had reached down and cupped the soil with their bare hands and watched it slip like grains of sand in an hourglass between their fingers? How many ghosts walked here? Haunted this place, crying out for redemption, for heaven, or for hell? "Where do you think one goes when they die? Do they return to the earth," He reached down to stroke a blade of grass, wiping it free of the pink water before flicking it off his finger and turning his eyes upon her once more. "Or join the warring Gods in the heavens to be slaughtered a second time?" his question was airy, tone as light as a feather, though there was an underlying seriousness there. He himself was unsure of the outcome of the human soul - if they possessed one at all- when death held one close and the wicked blade of the reaper was pressed against your throat.

Hopefully it wasn't anything too frightening, like Purgatory or Hell. May Mraz have mercy on his soul if that were the case.

[Zeirelle]

One thing she had noticed? Soldiers never cried, never showed pain, unless it was unspeakably bad.

More of her memories were flickering through her mind’s eye, as she witnessed all too fresh amputees and those in the throes of death through a fog of sweat and stress. The man whose hand she tended to now didn’t so much as flinch, and that was what reminded her of the strength those warriors had. Were they truly strong, or did they feel the need to put on a brave face? The only reason she could tell he was in pain came from her experience at her job. An apothecary had to read patients, the shifts in breathing, the slight hitch in the words, the tightening of a facial muscle, even the hesitation and body language as they swore to her, “Nothing’s wrong with me.” Those who lied and those who died infuriated her, but anyone who was not used to the stoicism and saw the straight face above a bleeding gash was amazed.

Alexander was living up to this reputation, showing only some of the more subtle signs of pain, even keeping his cool rather than cussing the dog out. Perhaps it was the reputation of Frost as well. Hearing the names of the Orders, a total stranger to the land might cast the people into stereotypes—passionate and hotheaded flame, powerful and evil chaos, and the ever detached and cold frost. Even though the personalities of the citizens ranged just like it might in any other world, on any other continent, this particular lieutenant embodied that last cliché.

The tall man nodded after discovering that he couldn’t automatically flex his fingers. Why did they all try to be better the second after she bandaged them? Maybe it was another stereotype, but it was true with the so-called heroes that wanted back out on the battlefield—or wherever he was heading, in his case. Just this once, she’d let a patient go. The chances of a ton of Flame soldiers rushing over the border this instant were relatively slim, though that might be wishful thinking on her part.

Alexander mentioned that it was too much of a hassle to put down the dog, shrugging casually, which caused her to smirk. “Animal-lover? Or are you as lazy as you claim? Everyone knows that mongrel is going to hurt more and more people.” A little harsh, maybe. She was a cat person, actually, and didn’t give a damn what happened to the mutt if it would continue attacking people. It was her Seer rubbing off on her.

However, the slightly mocking expression left her face when he praised her skills, and Zeirelle smiled faintly. “That’s what I strive for, though I think any idiot could bandage that. With the same skill, I doubt, but any other passing healer would have accomplished the same.” She wasn’t and wouldn’t pretend to be the greatest apothecary in the land.

Distractedly, the woman wrapped the length of the red silk ribbon around her finger and watched the horizon. Her odd eyes didn’t leave the southern lands even when he responded to her playful question. “Trust me, I’m chatty,” she replied ironically before laughing when he mentioned that his quietness interested the ladies. At last fixing him in her unusual stare, she smirked and tilted her head coyly. “I can see why,” she said, exaggerating her flirtatious tone. “But usually the silent types are the ones who don’t want the company that they attract; there’s a reason they don’t joke around so much. However, I will take that into consideration next time I try to pick up chicks. Does it work on men too?”

The silence spanned between them, a vast distance, allowing her to fall back into her thoughts that were not on the wars as she said they would be. Fixing an image of Kess in her mind, she lost herself in the memories. Maybe elsewhere, she would not be so haunted by the passing thoughts, but now she was too close. A few more steps and she would be in the lands of Flame, in that land of warmth and passion that carried in both love and in hate.

“Where do you think one goes when they die?” Alexander asked, all too suddenly.

Zeirelle lowered her eyes. “I don’t know.” She sighed, though on the inhale her breath seemed to hiccup slightly, and she passed her hand over her eyes. Once she had composed herself, she tore her gaze from the border and looked directly at him, smiling weakly. “My job is preventing people from getting there.”