'Chocobos. I hate these retched beasts.' Aiden Cole shook his head in disgust, clicking his tongue yet again in an attempt to push the massive bird forward. It stubbornly kicked it's feet into the ground, spinning around on its heel, throwing up a cloud of dust. They black sky rumbled; mother nature's warning that it would soon rain. A few rogue drops were already splattering against the surrounding foliage.
Aiden had hoped to beat the weather, but he'd come across several difficulties on the way, one of them being his idiotic rental bird. Earlier he had encountered a handful of thieves, most likely members of Raven's Unkindness, a guild stationed not too far away from his current location. The few he had been jumped by must have been new recruits; their technique, though fitting for perhaps mugging an old blind woman, was certainly not enough to liberate his own money pouch. They obviously had no clue who they we're dealing with as well. Two returned to the guild with broken arms and a few cracked ribs. The third, a particularly gangly youth with a mouthful of crooked teeth, was not so fortunate. His corpse was now on display hanging from a tree, held up by a dirk through his throat, like an animal hide tacked up on a game room wall. Aiden had not been bothered any other thieves since.
The rain that had been threatening the past few hours finally began, like a wave ripping across the beach, engulfing everything in water. Aiden gave the bird a sharp kick in the ribs with his heels, and it finally heeded his wishes and started ahead, but not before it turned it's neck around and snapped at him with it's sharp beak. "Yeah, well I feel the same way about you." He mumbled, tightening his blue bandana to keep his wet, fiery red hair out of his face. It didn't help any, nor did he expect it to; it was force of habit.
The chocobo hobbled along the path slowly, seemingly taking pleasure in getting it's rider completely soaked. Aiden would have thought the bird's grudge true, if he hadn't known it's feeble mind was only capable of eating and shitting. The man who had rented it to him had called it 'Sunshine'. The man was either an exceptional businessman, and knew that naming the bird Sunshine would make it seem friendly, or he was in serious need of getting his head out of his ass. He guessed the latter; the man didn't look capable of spelling his own name.
Lightning cracked on the horizon, and several moments later it's accompanying thunder roared across the sky. The chocobo tuft it's golden feathers out, fearfully squawking, but didn't stop. Aiden gave the bird a reassuring pat on it's side. Maybe he didn't really hate chocobos. The bird was stupid, and annoyingly stubborn, but it did serve it's purpose of getting you from point A to point B. And now that it was cooperating, the urge to cook it for dinner had passed.
The chocobo suddenly screeched and jumped backwards, tossing Aiden out of his thoughts, and nearly out of the saddle as well. "Fucking bird," he spat, "Just when I was starting to tolerate you, you go and pull somethi--holy shit!" Aiden yelped, now realizing what had spooked the bird, as it very well scared the shit out of him as well..
Standing in the dead center of the path, roughly 15 feet ahead, was a small figure completely drenched in a red paint. Once he recovered from his initial shock, Aiden dismounted, slowly advancing the figure, it's appearance becoming clearer the closer he got. 'It's... a kid?' "Hey, boy, what are you doing out here? It's dangerous you know. " he chided him quietly, still a bit suspicious. The boy didn't move. As he got closer, it became visible that the boy's was only dressed in black shorts, and dozens of snapped tubes and wires hung from his arms and legs. Deep cuts were slashed across his body. He wasn't covered in red paint; it was blood.
"Oh my god." When the realization hit, Aiden rushed to the boy's side, kneeling beside him. Despite his serious wounds, the boy didn't appear to be in pain, only confused. "Kid, you alright? What the hell happened to you?" The boy seemed to take notice of him for the first time, and looked up slowly.
"I... I don't know..." He replied monotonely. Aiden inwardly shuddered. Maybe it was just stood out because of the blood, but the boy's blue green eyes almost seemed to glow. The boy closed his eyes, and Aiden caught him as he collapsed. He held the boy, remaining in his kneeled position for a several minutes, mentally debating what to do. He couldn't just leave the boy here; the lobos that roamed the area would make quick work of him.
He could see the crimson liquid thickly seeping out of two slices under his left eye. The rain washed it away, but it continued running. Lobos or no lobos, the boy would be dead by morning if he left him there. His mind made up, he hooked his arms under the boy's knees and neck and lifted him up. The boy was much too lightweight, even for a kid. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the chocobo, which had taken cover from the rain under some brush. He was surprised the bird hadn't run off while he was distracted with the boy. He changed the position of the boy so he could hold him with one arm, and used the other to take hold of the reins and lead the bird into the open.
It gave a nervous 'wark', and nudged it's beak against the boy cradled in it's rider's arms. Aiden worked his way out of his heavy, dark blue jacket, and hastily dressed the boy in it, trying not to think of the blood stains that he would later have to scrub out of the inside. Hooking the youth under his arm, he placed his foot into the stirrup and swung himself up. After settling into the saddle, he hoisted up the boy and set him infront, and grasped the reins from under the kid's arms, so he wouldn't fall off.
The second reason was of higher importance. The child seated limply in front of him was near dead, with raspy breathing and skin blanched whitish-gray. His wounds had yet to close, the leather saddle riddled with dark stains from the blood.
As soon as he hit the Maranda Chocobo Stable, he practically threw himself off the bird and made a mad dash to the town infirmary, with the boy in his arms. The Stable Keeper wasn't pleased, and yelled obscenities at the man who had left him to care for the bird himself.
Aiden stayed in the waiting room for several hours. He wondered why he remained, for some reason or other deeply concerned about an injured child he had found in the woods barely three hours earlier. He had obligations to keep, jobs to fill. He should have left, he should forgotten that he had ever found him. But no, he forced himself to remain, and kept asking himself why.
The walls were a bland yellow color, with peeling wallpaper, and portraits of the previous residents. The door was in the tiny hall, just in front of the desk, where the clerk sat. She was a particularly unattractive woman, with a long skinny neck and bony arms. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, an unwise style choice as it didn't exactly bring out her best features; it looked like her hair was tugging back her face, her oily skin tight against her cheekbones and hawklike nose. From the way she bobbed her head as she moved, she vaguely resembled a chicken.
Aiden lightly chuckled, remembering the Bird-Woman's reaction when he had entered. He suspected he looked like a madman, covered in wet dirt and dried blood; the clerk had shrieked to high heaven, sending a stack of papers in her hands airborne, where it flurried to the floor like massive snowflakes. Since his time there, he had an opportunity to change clothing and clean himself up. So far he hadn't heard anything about the boy's condition, and having nothing else to do, counted the ceiling titles for the umpteenth time.
Leading him through a door to the right of the desk, they headed down a small hallway before stopping a door entitled "Recovery Room". There were only two bedded. One, with an amputated leg, moaned and rolled over as the light was turned on. The boy was in the back, on the bed farthest from the door. He was barely recognizable; Aiden only knew it was him because of his small size compared to the other man. He was almost completely wrapped in bloodstained bandages, save for his face, and a small tuft of hair that had wormed it's way out of the tight bandaging.
"We managed to stop the bleeding, but it took some time." Clarice informed him, just above a whisper as to not disturb anyone. "His injuries were quite peculiar, as were the, appendages hanging off his body." Her eyes burned into him. Aiden shifted uncomfortably at her change of tone. He was beginning to dislike this girl. "He's not really your son is he, Mr. Cole?" He had told the Chicken-clerk that the boy was his son after she had recovered from nearly jumping out of her skin. Something had told him that they would be quite suspicious if he brought in some random boy; they'd probably suspect kidnapping or such. His mind was again screaming at him for not leaving right after he had brought him in.
Aiden licked his lips. "That's not really your business." He replied lowly.
"Well, the tubing that we pulled off of him could have only been Vector made."
"What's your point?"
"Since you just got into town earlier today, I'm guessing that you haven't heard the news yet." His raised eyebrow confirmed this. "Yesterday there was a very large accident in Vector. The lab was destroyed and five were killed. Rumors flying around that it was caused by a test subject." She paused, waiting to see if he had made the connection. He knit his eyebrows.
"That's fucking impossible. Now way some kid could have done that."
"They say that Vector scientists can make a monster out of even a mere child."
Aiden dropped onto the empty bed next to the young patient. Could it really be true? His logic told him no, but there was more than enough evidence supporting Clarice's theory. And he had found the boy in a forest just a few miles outside of Vector. Aiden let out a groan and fell backwards against the soft bed. This was a lot to take in.
"Do any of the other doctor's know?"
"I don't think so."
"So, are you going to rag me out?" He couldn't help but grin; he felt a child who had just broken one of his mother's valuables.
"No. I just thought I'd warn you of the situation. He's your responsibility now." Aiden practically shot up from the bed.
"My responsibility? What the fuck are you saying? I didn't ask for this kid to fall into my lap. I just wanted to get him some help and be on my way!"
"Then why didn't you just go?" Aiden froze. He had stayed when he had the chance to leave, didn't he?
He had again lowered his voice, "What do you expect me to do? Take care of him? Do I look like father material to you? I don't have the time nor patience to look after someone else. I have enough trouble looking after my own ass."
Clarice sighed. "Then I suggest that you catch a boat out to Nikeah. When you get there, bring him to an orphanage; maybe they can help him get back to wherever he's from. They're protected by Figaro law; he should be safe. Vector will wait a few days before making any moves, but I suggest that you leave quickly. I know it's a lot to ask, but please, do it for his sake."
Aiden hesitated, and looked at the peacefully sleeping boy. 'Fuck, I'm getting soft'. "Fine, I'll do it. But only because I was head there next anyway." Clarice looked relieved.
"Tell me one thing," She looked at him questioningly and gave a 'hmm?' "How do you know all this shit about Vector?"
"That's not really your business." She replied with the faintest hint of a smile.
Clarice entered, carrying a tray of food, and a smiled smugly as she saw that Aiden had awoken. "Have a good rest?" She teased.
"I can't believe you let me fall asleep like that!" He hissed quietly. He was about ready to beat the smile off the amputee's face, "You should have woken me up!"
"What, and interrupt your slumber? You looked so comfortable!" She handed one of the bowls to the amputee. "Oh, what, you're embarrassed about Allen here seeing you like that? Don't worry, all in good fun you know." Allen shook his head with a grin, and scooped up some of the porridge.
Clarice handed Aiden a bowl, took one for herself, and put the tray with an extra bowl on the table to the left of Aiden's bed.
"So when are you gonna head out? Later today?" She asked, turning serious. She sat at on the bed opposite Aiden, next to Allen, and dabbed her spoon into the porridge.
He looked at her as if she had just poured the porridge over her head. "Today? Are you insane? You've seen the boy; he's in no condition to travel!"
She stopped in mid bite and wrinkled her nose. "You haven't noticed yet? My god, you must be blind." Seeing his confused look, she motioned towards the boy's bed with a nudge of her head.
Aiden yelped, dropping the bowl, scattering broken clay pieces and porridge across the floor. Clarice mumbling something about having to clean up the floor, but he barely heard her.
The boy was wide awake. He was sitting up, with most of his bandages removed, and the bowl of porridge Clarice had place on the table in his lap. He looked over for a moment when Aiden had dropped his bowl, then turned away, staring at the chipped wall across from his bed.
"B, but how.... How can he be healed already? It hasn't even been a day!" Aiden stuttered.
"I'm not sure," Clarice responded, looking just as vexed. "I came in to check on him earlier and he was sitting there, as if he never been injured at all."
She rose and collected the emptied bowls, heading towards the door. She turned momentarily, "I'll go and restock your supplies; it'd probably be best if you left later today. You know, get a head start? I'll be back in an hour or two." With that, she left.
A few minutes later, the Chicken hobbled in, pushing a wheelchair. She arrogantly stuck her nose in the air at the sight of Aiden, and headed over to Allen.
"You ready to go out, Mr. Manter?" She helped him into his chair, and wheeled him out of the room. He grinned, and gave a mock salute on the way out.
For one reason or another, Aiden was grateful for the privacy. He wanted to explain the details to the boy, but wanted to do it alone. Aiden wondered if he was getting paranoid. He sat on the end of the boy's bed, examining him. He hadn't got a good look at him in the woods; with the blood and rain, it was hard to tell what he really looked like.
After recovering from serious bloodloss, an individual usually regained color to their skin. The boy on the otherhand, looked just as ghostly pale as the day before, the only difference was that he lacked the gray undertone. Hundreds of thin scars marred his skin, replacing the slashes that had been there the night before. His hair, no longer matted with rain or sticky blood, could be now clearly seen as a deep auburn, spiking out in several directions.
"Hey kid, so, do you remember anything that happened two days ago, before I found you in the forest?" If the boy was attempting to remember anything, he made no sign of it. He had the same blank stare.
"No."
"Well, ok. Where are you from?" The boy shrugged nonchalantly. "Any family?" Another negative response. Each question he asked got the same response. "Do you remember anything? Even your name?" He shook his head. "Goddesses..." Aiden massaged his temples in frustration.
'Maybe it's better that he doesn't remember anything.... It saves the orphanage the trouble of searching for his family, and he'll get a fresh start. Forget this whole fucking deal and have an actual normal life.'
Aiden checked his watch. Clarice wouldn't be back for a while. The boy was staring at his wall again, as if Aiden wasn't even sitting in the way. 'What a weird kid...'
"You know, you should probably pick a name." The idea had suddenly flickered into his mind.
"Why?" Came his automatic response.
"What do you mean why? A name is a valid title. It defines who you are."
"Call me what you want." He didn't say it with malice, like a statement of that should, but just emotionlessly.
Maybe it was pointless. A name suited an individual's personality, but the boy seemed to be completely lacking one.
"Fine fine. I'm going out for awhile." Aiden picked up a book that had been sitting on the table, and tossed it into his lap. "Read it or something. Better than you wasting your time staring at the wall. Maybe you'll find a name you like in it." Aiden slammed the door behind him, leaving the boy alone.