*Cross The River*
Chapter 1- Angels Prayer.
Written by Rap's ([email protected])

This fanfic has been written to explore both the friendship and lives existing between two of my favorite characters- Lavits and Albert of Legend of Dragoon. The fic begins four months after the death of his majesty Carlo, and upon the day that his queen, Alexia, passes on. My only other notes? This will take some liberty with the original LOD storyline. Up until Lavits dies, in any case. I think this story might serve as an interesting interpretation of interactions between the royalty and Lavits' family- who have always served the duchy of Basil (as it's called now- in anycase). Not to mention I finally get to give a more vibrant past to two great characters from LOD! This will contain drama and aghast (mwa ha;) some mischief, mayhem, and a nice enough dose of action.

*grins* Just give the fic a chance. By the way- My inspiration to write this first began when Albert mentions in the game that he and Lavits had been childhood friends. It was all well and good that Dart and Lavits got along so well- but taking into consideration the facts that both Albert and Lavits' fathers had been murdered, the two families have had obvious interaction for a deal of time, and that there seems to be an interesting past behind them both- I wish the game dealt a bit into this area. *sigh* oh well! That what writers like me are for, right? hehehe- even if I'm not very good!

Overall Rating: R
(I like blood...)

Characters you may not know- but definitely need to know. ;)

Servi Slambert: Lavits' devoted father. In the game- you learn of his death. In this fic, considering it occurs in the past, he'll be a major character.

Greham: Servi's Best man... but if you know the game you know this relationship turns deadly.

Mai Slambert: Servi's wife, Lavits mother. The name is of my own creation, as it were never mentioned in game.

Alexia: Albert's mother. She was never even mentioned in the game at all. Basically, she's my own original character- so please ask permission if you would like to use her. *grins* I took the name from Resident Evil: Code Veronica. my GOD that game kicks ass!

Advisor Noish (Minister Noish): The advisor to the king.

Emperor Doel: Albert's uncle, Carlo's brother.

King Carlos (Carlo): Albert's father, murdered by his brother Doel.

Emporor Diaz: He's Zeig- who is actually Melbu Frahma, who is persuading Doel. Er... yeah.

Albert and Lavits: Our hero's *yay!!!* :)


***

Introduction:

Serdio had once stood as both the strong and unchallenged sentinel of an ancient world. A beautiful continent, vast in her life, culture and history. Devoid of true hate- of true fear. Above her mountains and below her soil lay the heart of Soa and the will of the Divine tree. A country full of existence, and the desire to exist.

She knew this, of course. Her people knew this, and the vast line of royal blood that was country and crown had reigned upon her as a family considered to be one of the oldest in all of Endiness. Tied to them were the distant, 11,000 year old threads of horror and oppression. A past ended by the valiant Dragon Campaign. It was not only the historians that lay thankful for the age in which they now lived. And as a reminder of what lay behind them was an offering of peace that had existed into this very future. The Moon Gem. A stone of mystery and power, it had been sealed inside the body of each heir to the throne since it's creation back into the dawn of peace.

Fortified against the world if need be, it is ironic that Serdio would be confronted by demons from within in later years. Oppression began to stem not from the long lost Winglys- but from the trusted royalty themselves. An outsider had married into the line- Carlos Segean- and by taking Alexia's hand in marriage, he would single handedly disrupt further an already troubled nation. Until the day of his assassination, in anycase.

Now, with his death, Carlos would leave a country on the brink of civil war that had begun at the hands of his powerful brother Doel. There was nothing to stop the emerging graves but Alexia- true ancestor of the bloodline- and she had fallen very ill.

So my story begins on the day of her death- with the son she would leave behind, the father he was never meant to know- and the adventures of two thereafter.

***
Chapter 1: Angels Prayer





"Where is she?" Servi asked- voice hushed as his heavy boots struck the marbled floor beneath them. He walked quickly, worry gripping his frame, sudden dread gnawing deeply into the pit of his stomach.

A woman walked with him, only just able to keep his long stride, and answered in a hurried voice that nearly had him at the point of running.

"Her chamber, Servi. A week now. She can't move and speaking is painful. We've tried to get her to eat, but she refuses everything except an occasional liquid. It's you she's been waiting for, knight." The maid beside him lowered her voice in sadness. "I think... I think that maybe your face might be all she's stayed alive to-"

"Don't say it." He growled, right hand clenching as they approached Alexia's bedroom. The smooth white halls were becoming more cluttered with people now. Nobles, Advisors, the damned Clergy. Each in their respective attire made a graceful move from his path- their edgy reflections gliding away over the cream colored floor like the echoes of frightened ghosts.

Vultures...

"Sir Servi..." came a familiar voice. A gruff, commanding tone he could recognize in a sea of delirious madmen. It sliced through the excited whispers of gathered aristocrats- breaking their soft words and grinning smiles.

~Smile indeed- you fools. Smile at me, and your teeth will shatter back into the very mind that bore your greed.~

Though, in all truth, the faces that drifted around him were somber ones. Their words held no joy- only a lifeless, dull tone of converse that might stray from him- to his ratty warriors armor, or then to the woman that lay dying a few doors down the cool hall.

But then, appearance told nothing of what he could truly see behind each quick glance and muttered comment.

"Sir Servi..." The voice said again. A bit more forcefully. The pretty young maiden at his side had long ago left him for other company, and his whirling thoughts now ignored the form of a tall regiment Captain.

"Sir Servi, please..." And this time, a hand firmly closed upon his wrist. "Wait a moment, Noish wishes a word with you."

He shouldn't have been angry, but the Serdian knight shook the grip away and spun in place with an impressive clank of metal against metal. His armor seemed to strain as both arms raised in a bout of fury, and it vibrated when his voice took livid root on the ears around them.

"DAMN Noish!" he snarled, a sweep of short blonde hair falling into the green of his left eye. "I have been kept long enough by the petty strings of his court, and it will do you well to leave me be!"

The regiment captain- tall and sturdy as he was, took a quick step back. "Sir- I am sorry. Yet, having come from the battles, Noish dearly-"

But Servi was off again- eyes pinned ahead to the broad double doors at the end of the hall. Not another delay- not another single conversation, would keep him from Alexia's side. He barked curses behind his left shoulder as the Captain began to implore him yet again- but as his hand finally rested upon the entrance to the Queen's chamber- each plea fell on deaf ears.

The thick door opened after a sharp click echoed into the corridor, and the cool air of the hall was replaced with the suffocating weight of sickness.

He closed it shut behind him with a dead thump of motion.

The room was dim, despite the early afternoon sunlight that dared to creep through large windows at either side of his frame. Below them, to his left and right, were bookcases filled to the brim with information and literature and fantasy. His boots drummed slowly against the blues of a floor rug that traveled a distance from the door- to the area ahead- and ahead lay only three simple chairs, a table, and two woman who stared anxiously towards him.

Behind them, a bed lay like a coffin. White sheets and white dress and pale woman- all yielding such an image of beautiful death that a sob clutched at his throat.

"Servi...?" One of the nurses began, stepping towards him lightly. "You are Servi, yes?"

He nodded, softly.

"Then, please-" and the nurse who had spoken gestured towards the bed. "She's been asking for you."

Sometime later, he might have wondered what sort of site he had been- so cautiously approaching Alexia's bedside. His strong frame would have looked defeated, eyes wanting to dart everywhere but her. The attire he wore was a twisted mass of battlements; having been scathed by an incomprehensible number of swords and shimmering spells. There was blood caked in the welts of his armor. There was dirt streaking his face, hands, and the stiff traveling garments that his armor did not obscure.

He didn't really hear his own voice direct a thin; "Leave us..." to the two other woman. Nor did he truly register their hastened departure. The world had narrowed in a few confusing seconds to he, and the woman before him.

She was as she had always been in appearance, he supposed. But the light peach skin he remembered was now snow pale. There was no life lingering in a frame he knew to be always lively. No smile etched at lips previously upturned in a kind or patient smile. Alexia was simply there, ridged over her deathbed. The white bedding ended just at the rise of her chest, and when she breathed, the breath was a torturous intake.

Servi carefully raised one hand, slipped away it's blood-stiff glove, and brushed a strand of light honey-brown from the delicate angle of her face.

"Alexia... It is Servi." He spoke softly to her ear. "I am here."

She murmured something, head moving just slightly as his voice attempted to call her awake. Her full mouth pressed into a thin line, struggling against eyes that did not want to open.

Servi swallowed hard- remembering back to when her illness had begun. It was not a contagious thing, but one of the deeper body. It seemed that death had grown bored with the battlefield and, in his restless state, a nameless minion of his legion was permitted to wander. To search for not so typical a slay among the bellowing armies of Serdia. How, or why it choose Alexia was meant to be forever the mystery that would plague his heart- but whatever the reason; she lay in it's grip. And she would remain within until the kill was made.

"Servi?" Came a timid word.

The voice cut through his thoughts mercilessly, only adding to the pain he felt with a weight of several more tons. Had he not been leaning over the smooth bedside of Alexia- perhaps his left knee wouldn't have sunk to the ground, with the right following shortly thereafter.

"And, young man..." he began, hoarsely. "Where have you been?"

There was no answer, but Servi could hear the soft steps of a child coming near from a room that lay adjoined to the queen's own. He did not need to look to see the figure. Only imagine. And what could that boy possible think of him, kneeling before the body of a dying woman, hunched as if he might have been dealt some crucial blow?

"I went for water." The small voice replied, light tones full with a type of purpose. Servi watched the boy's shadow drift behind him a moment, and then it moved fluidly to his left and let a body take place of the previous frame.

"They said I should keep her brow cool." He went on, mechanically. "So I can help the nurses in her tending. Her fever is high, you know." And the child carefully balanced a bowl of clear water upon a small table and smoothed down a cloth in his left hand. "It's always very high, so I'm keeping her cool.

Servi watched, a numbness creeping his body, as he carefully dampened the cloth and wrung it gently. Prince Albert, made early a king following the murder of his father, kept his face turned from Servi's blurring gaze and entirely upon the task at hand. The boy was a thin child. Lanky, with a straight fall of golden brown hair and the softest Hazel eyes. His brows, slightly downturned, would dart to his mother and then turn back just as quickly. A few moments later, and he'd carefully climbed the bed to begin patting a light band of sweat from Alexia's brow. His expression never faltered. Just a mask of concern and uncertainty- touched with a distinct feature that Servi could only compare with feeling lost.|

Here was a child that knew his world was not unbreakable. That sometimes it would fall and, in doing so, would leave only two options for injury. Rise, and live stronger then before- or rise still, and live with the hindrance of a limp.

Time told such stories.

It was probably by chance that Alexia opened her eyes then; a sudden flutter of life stirring over her soft face. Albert stilled instantly in his tending, hand poised just above his mother's brow. It retreated slowly, and she followed the movements of her son with such a detached grace that it might have unnerved the small boy. If so, he gave no indication. Albert folded the cloth in his lap and smiled, albeit weakly.

"Servi came, mom-" And his large eyes moved upon the Knight crouched before them. "He's at your left. Can you move-?

Spoken by Alexia's child- the question could have almost made innocent such a horrible circumstance. Servi softly rose from his kneel, and carefully settled upon an edge of the smooth bed to fully face her majesty. One of her hands limply intertwined with Albert's small right hand, and her eyes- earthen and wide- rested quietly upon Servi's somber features.

He didn't know if she could speak, and so spoke himself- words running from a throat that hadn't been sure it could have done so in past moments. There was a stillness in the room, as if the gentle wind outside and the far away rustle of voices had stopped- only a moment- to let his voice reign over all ears in it's deep, smooth tones. He was brief, but thorough, saying all the things she would have wanted to hear. That the battles were going well. That their losses had not been so many. That the people were becoming more hopeful- and moral had boosted within the ranks.

But she only smiled, kindly- patiently, so that the Knight understood his own defeat.

Servi... my dear Servi. Do not hide me from the truth. For as you can read my eyes- I can read yours. And I know of the present in all it's bloodshed.

The blonde took a deep breath, careful to keep the intake steady. She knew, of course. Alexia always knew. And no words of her own account could tell him better then the reply he saw in the pale contours of her face. Moments later, and he was shaken to watch a slight tremble run over her body. It was followed by the softest gasp- and a murmured;

"Thank you..."

Servi pressed a hand over her right cheek, and closed his eyes under the soft, deathly cold surface of her skin. Weakly, her head turned into his gesture, and silence reigned again.

Albert watched them, withdrawn in thoughts to complicated for the mind of a boy. This was his mother dying, with a man he trusted leaning gently over her inanimate frame. Light was dimming, and the room was fading. Had night so quickly come? He thought of demons- the ones Noish had spoke of. He'd said they were hunting for beauty and sacrifice, so found both in a country of hate. Between the soft whispers Servi now murmured into the darkening room, his mind ran with the image of a dreadful thing. One with wings like the books told. A crafty, clever creature- who was smarter then Servi and stronger then Greham.

His father would have slapped him; believing in demon's indeed.

But it could be, his thoughts reasoned. It could be- because there was no other explanation. The doctors did not know what it was that had gripped his mother. And so what invisible death- but the black and cunning, would else have chosen to take her from him? Demon's liked pretty things, didn't they?

Of course, these could all be described as musings from a child who found more fear in the prospects that lay ahead then what withered in light of present circumstances. They were random thoughts stuck together in an attempt to find rational logic. An excuse for the workings of fate- in all it's cruelty.

He didn't want to be alone- and that anticipation in itself made the world he would be faced with so much more frightening. His mother would die, and his father already had.

Couldn't he go with them?

But- a moment later- and Albert heard Servi gasp. The knight was looking at his mother with mix of shock, of unease, and disbelief. This is when he heard her quietly say;

"A w..witness, love. Noish. br..ing hi..m." And she swallowed sharply." I can... entrust..."

"Alexia-!" And his voice sounded as if it was pleading, even to his own ears. Servi firmly gripped her shoulders and watched painfully as she implored him with gaze alone. "... I cannot!"

She almost seemed to sigh very slightly before one hand absently attempted to grip his again. She wasn't entirely coherent now, shaking her head just slightly as if trying to keep awake. "You a..re the only one, Servi. The only I wou..ld ever..."

But that sentence too drifted off, and Servi watched as the queen slowly lapsed into silent torment. His throat was very dry- mind working faster then thought should have allowed. She'd asked him... asked him to do something that he... he just... And Servi felt his eyes close heavily as Albert touched his arm.

"What did she say, sir Servi? Why are you crying?"

The Serdian knight blinked his eyes, unused to the wetness that began to slide from their green depths. Upon looking at the child that so helplessly watched him- he knew the answer of course. He knew so many things he didn't want to know, and didn't know how to explain.

What do I tell you, young one? How can I explain that their are so many waiting for this moment.. Waiting until Serdio is left without a ruler? how can you understand your own age? That you are to young a heir to be throned? how can I possible make you see the cunning minds around us? The ones that perceive a chance to further their own greed and power!?

He couldn't, simply put. And Alexia had called for a witness. Someone who would come, who would stand, and who would hear for themselves as she bestowed he; Servi of Basil, the power of her throne. He; the only she could trust to use that power wisely, and then return it to her son when he had grown.

"Sir?"

Such patience, that small voice held. Albert- his mother's perfectly sculpted eyes and mouth forming the distinct patterns of concern that should never have been present on someone so young.

Yet his features... The straight nose and narrow jaw capable of a wide smile... they did not belong to Carlos.

They belonged to him.

And the thought wracked Servi with an inner torment so sharp, and so painful- that a terrible sob ripped itself from his throat as if possessed and quite mad. His entire body was consumed by it in a bout of guilt and pain. His mind was being torn relentlessly into wavering flaps of memory. Everything shook, vibrated, and screamed.

Our child, Alexia! *Our* Child!!

Soa damn him if he could not protect this boy. If he could not take the power of the throne, keep the vultures away, and teach his son to be a king.

"A witness, alexia..." Servi choked. His voice was broken with tears- his eyes pinned on the shocked prince that sat ridged over the bed before him. Slowly, that same gaze moved back unto Alexia, her soft eyes barely able to keep open. "Noish will be brought at once. Stay awake for me- for your son."

And Albert, confused now, felt his mothers hand once again grip his as Servi immediately left the room. Following was a flurry of dim voices. Following that- a sharp order.

He had once overheard two scribes speaking in the study outside his fathers room. One had said; that A moment, when remembered, will often reek of either your own mortality or your own ignorance.

Albert would not understand this for many years to come. His small arms enfolded his mother, and his eyes slowly began to close as the gentle rhythm of her heart- if ever irregular and faint- lulled him quickly into slumber.

Minutes passed...

***

Servi listened, detachedly, to the slow and even voice near him. It's tones came high and sharp. A voice that belonged to someone of leisure perhaps, or maybe great confidence.

"-And so it has been said... and so it will be law..."

And so continued Noish- brown hair falling in short wafts from his white and gold cap with every slight turn of the head. His piercing blue eyes were shrewd and not without intelligence. His mouth and nose were both straight lines of a defined nature.

"-As Advisor, as lord and friend..."

The night air flowed freely into the room from all windows- now ajar and letting the outside world within. He could feel the element ruffling his hair, lifting it and playing delicate strands into his line of vision. Some might catch on drying tears, others might blow snugly into new positions along his brow.

"-By word of our queen, it is with judgment passed-"

Fragments of Noish and his pointless speaking flickered in and out of Servi's mind. He was standing at the foot of Alexia's bed; unmoving, more still then the sleeping child that lay exhausted in his mother's arms. A numbness had crept into his body... colder then ice.

"- Bestowed in honor, of honor, the throne of Basil..."

Servi shut his eyes.

"- Now shall rest in the hands of one; Trusted man and friend- Servi. Commander of the 1st knighthood. Guardsman of the royalty."

His eyes opened to the sound of five different voices, all in unison saying a simple phrase that was not, if anything, just that.

"It is known."

And it was done.

Noish stepped aside, a lean arm jutting from a thin expanse of cloth; the traditional white garments of The Advisor. He were gesturing to the other four that had been brought to the chamber now- Telling them silently that they had heard, that they were to leave, and that word was to be sent throughout castle and country. Automatically the nobles obliged, each nodding once to Servi before their thin frames move altogether from the chamber.

The knight watched them go in a state that might have been detached- and perhaps a little dream-like. When Noish softly called his name in the silence afterwards, it took Servi a few moments to turn his head fully and gaze at the thin man beside him.

"And you are willing Servi? You understand what you have just taken upon yourself?"

Noish was walking around his body as he said this- towards the bed in which Alexia rested. The question was so utterly unnecessary that Servi might have laughed at another time. He watched the white robe trail behind Noish' ankles, settling as the advisor stopped in his short trek about the room.

"It is her wish, and it is my duty." He answered after a hesitant moment.

Noish simply blinked- icy gaze emotionless and stern. "You've answered neither of my questions."

"Then accept my silence, Noish. Much has happened here, and I am not ready to give you that answer."

Silence indeed.

A brief waver of coiled anger shot through the knight as he studied Noish and his faceless expression. It was misplaced and unintentional- but the feeling swept him all the same. Breaking his sudden temptation to strike out (and violently...) Servi regained his height with a strech of broad shoulders and let a growling sigh slip from his throat.

Noish simply blinked, crow-like eyes flickering in contrast to the stone of his face. It was with some bit of effort that he turned away then. Turned and crossed his arms, closed his eyes- reopened them. A thin hand reached from his expanse of flowing cloth and lightly gestured to mother and son.

"You understand it will be soon. I have the surgeons close at hand- so when I leave...." And Noish turned back around in an abrupt fashion, features stern. " ... Once her Majesty has passed on, you must be prompt. Albert will need to receive the Moon Gem as quickly as possible- lest his mothers blood become cold before the transfer can be made."

Those words... so inhuman. A shiver nipped at the base of his spine, and Servi could feel that tremor begin to crawl with merciless intention through the very fabric of his nerves.

"Knight, do you hear me?"

Another shiver. "I do. But one thing, advisor..."

Noish rested back on his heels, lips a thin line and brows just as narrow. "Yes?"

"Greham. Of the second knighthood. I ask that your fastest messenger send word to him. His presence will be greatly helpful in these approaching hours."

Noish lightly tucked a stray bit of hair from one eye, and nodded directly afterwards. The room was fairly cold now- the night having swept gradually inwards this past half hour to clean the air within. briefly, and without much notice, a hand maiden had shifted among them. With her was a candle that lay gently cradled between slender hands, and like a ghost, it drifted with her from torch to torch which lined the pale stone walls. Sparks of flame danced between each taper- awakened to begin a short life in fire.

It was done Carefully, quietly- as if lighting the planks of cremation that would soon claim Alexia's body.

The rhythmic, unheard motions might had ended some mockery of a ceremony- as Noish swiftly exited the room without another word or glance. The maiden, hands withdrawing from where she had lit the last of the iron castings surrounding them, bowed with mournful grace and then followed. So quickly, things were happening. Ending. Servi's thoughts could only comprehend the passage of time in meager words that left his situation ever the more hollow. He stood alone again. Still, and blinking salt from heavy lids.

The knight sat down over the bed, folded his hands in his lap.

Minutes later, And the queen was dead.

****