Grandia, character development and Akos being depressed
Grandia rose like a pillar out of the ground. A spiral of rock sprung up, circling around to a summit far above. Large clumps of earth floated above the ground, islands suspended by the phenomena of the Rifts. The sun shone throughout the whole city, illuminating the waterfalls which endlessly cascaded through the sky, water forming from seemingly nothingness. High up in the city, large silver buildings were merged with these floating miracles, the Grand Courts in physical form, demanding peace and purity from those below. Other buildings also were formed on the city, and near one such building, elegant and grand - stood Akos Frost with blank eyes.
He looked over the city from the edge of the island where he stood, watching people move about their daily lives far below.
Clutched in the hands of the Prince, close to his heart, he held a small notebook. He hadn’t seen all of its contents, only read the first page.
This book belongs to Commander Iri Blossom, Royal Guard and shall not be opened by any other persons. If it does occur that I die on the line of duty, I entrust this to Prince Akos Frost, my fair Liege and trusted friend.
He hadn’t the courage to read the rest of it, yet Iri did wish for him to have it.
He opened the book to a random page, and to his surprise, saw an incomplete sketch of Iri, smiling. Akos wasn’t fully aware of her artistic talent, but the self portrait he saw before him was stunning.
He looked further through the papers, reading some pages, in both sorrow and embarrassment for some, seeing the personal thoughts of an acquaintance. There were more sketches, some finished, some incomplete like a frozen snapshot of time. Akos couldn’t tell if some of her art was expressionism or venting at the horrific states of the war, many of these pieces showed gruesome memories that he’d rather forget.
Another factor of interest to Akos were the amount of sketches of himself, sometimes with Commander Zion or Blossom herself in frame, other times alone. Akos turned the page once more and froze; a page was dedicated to a picture of himself and Iri, lying in the snow and smiling.
He closed the book.
A hand touched his shoulder, “Akos, all will be fine.”
Dulzura sat down next to him.
“Iri’s soul still will be near you, as commanded by Desiderium Reunionis.”
Akos waited for him to continue speaking but to no avail.
“Desiderium is just a myth. A story they tell children to comfort them. Her soul will be lost to the Rifts and you know it. It’s my fault she’s tormented to that eternal void.”
“It is not your fault, it is only Fallenfire’s”
“Shut up Dulzura. It’s all my fault. She didn’t have to die, yet she did.”
Dulzura was taken aback by the anger in his voice, he stared into the eyes of the Prince. “Sleep Akos, Iri will watch over your dreams. I shall be with Rune.”
Akos looked at the image of him and Iri in the snow, and looked at every detail. The snow in his hair, the perfect shape of their bodies, the tilt of Iri’s eyes towards his. The smile which pierced the cold, the slight blush hidden by trailed hair, their touching fingertips.
He once again slammed the book closed, the emotions shattering into his mind like a waterfall of broken pain.
Tormented by the memory which was nothing more than Blossom’s fantasy, he lay back and closed his eyes in the soft grass.
Dulzura watched through the glass
whilst Rune sat above him on the windowsill, legs crossed and leaning back.
“He needs time to think.” The Judge said finally.
“He will move on, or he will find himself lost.”
“He is already lost.”
Rune slipped down onto the floor, standing straight, only just shorter than Dulzura.
“I shall head back home.”
Dulzura smiled, “Oh, but don’t you want to stay the evening, or perhaps the night seeing as you are here already, there’s room for as many guests as we want.”
Rune laughed sarcastically, “You really know your targets don’t you? I’ll stay over as long
as you want, it’s dull alone anyway.”
“Nothing like last time you stayed over. It may have been an… interesting evening but we don’t want Akos traumatised by your actions.”
Laughing, the pair turned around together.
Iri was so close, only an arm’s reach in front of him. She was absolutely pure, resting in the air, hovering above the ground. Her body was surrounded by wisps of mist, moving slowly.
Akos hung in the air with the woman, in the same clouds himself. And then they were in the snow. The Prince felt his bare skin touch the ice, but felt no cold. The mist was diverging, moving away as the memory faded, leaving his heart vulnerable.
No, it wasn’t a memory, it never happened.
It was similar to what he saw in Iri’s sketch - the position, the smile, the blush - yet it was more pure, with only the clouds to surround and comfort him.
His purity exposed his tormented state.
Their fingers were close to touching, yet his hand slipped through hers.
The mist faded and he awoke.
