Author's Note: I'm proud to report that I've finally become unstuck! Thanks so much for everyone who read, reviewed and waited patiently for slow me to get over my writer's block and finish this chapter!

Disclaimer: Gundam SEED and all its characters belong to their respective owners.

Fantasy Trap

Chapter 05: Into the Snare

The area was surprisingly dry, considering the previous night’s downpour. But she supposed that was to be expected from a video game. Kira had suggested they evacuate all of the villagers to a safer place, but Lacus thought it was because he could no longer bear the sight of all the broken bodies and wrecked houses around the ruined town. There had been no time for a proper burial, so Lacus had whispered a silent prayer instead.

Until she realized with a start that they had also been merely a part of the game. It was a game that only revolved around its three party members, so the victims had probably never even been alive! It was difficult not to confuse fantasy with reality, especially since the fantasy seemed so real. That was why she was so worried about Athrun. His compassionate nature and gentle heart easily succumbed to such traps and mind games.

Lacus took in the furrowed brows and dissatisfied expression of the boy next to her. She had had a long talk with Athrun as they walked though the forest, and he was mulling over her words. Some people found Athrun Zala difficult to understand, but she felt like she knew him all her life. Though he thought he could hide things from her, she was able to read him like an open book. For instance, the dissatisfied expression told her that he was angry with himself at getting himself so immersed in the game, and the furrow of his brow showed that he was thinking hard of a way out.

He opened his mouth to ask her a question, his vivid green eyes twinkling with doubt. She would be truthful with him, whatever he asked, and, once she had eliminated all his doubts, his mind would be free from this game’s trap. All that was left then, was to escape from it with their bodies intact.

“Lacus,” he began tentatively.

“Yes?”

Just then, she was overcome by a vast sense of imminent danger. She pulled out her staff and searched the skies. Athrun followed suit – staff in hand, he also kept an eye on the sky above them. Sure enough, her eyes pinpointed a dark patch approaching, and she knew, with a certainty that made her shiver, that he was coming…

“What is it, Lacus?” Kira asked, pausing to turn around from where he was leading the townsfolk through the forest.

“He’s… He’s coming…” was all she could utter.

--

Athrun did not know how Lacus could even have sensed that the enemy was coming, never mind from which direction he was coming, but the moment she pulled out her pure white staff, he, too, reached for his weapon. It was not long before her foreboding became a reality.

“I can’t believe you would make it so easy for me!” that dreaded voice rang from the treetops. “You may have bested me in dry, rocky terrain, but the forest is my forte!”

As the shape, cloaked in rough, brown wool, descended from above, the game no longer made a secret of the identity of Athrun’s pursuer. He wore mask fashioned from ivory and decorated by carved vine patterns inlaid with emeralds. It covered the top half of his face, leaving his menacing smile bare. Loose, golden tresses peeked out from inside the cowl of his cloak.

xXx

RAWW LE KLUEZE

Class: Druid

Age: 328

Height: 183cm

Weight: 77kg

Blood Type: Unknown

You know little about the mysterious, masked man, except that he became your father’s newly appointed advisor shortly after the death of your mother, the queen. In a short time, this strange man has convinced your father to make many, drastic changes around the palace. Among the many disturbing changes was the removal of all of your mother’s possessions from the palace – from paintings of her likeness to the jewellery she had worn. Raww le Klueze rarely leaves your father’s side, which made it impossible for you to confront your father about the matter in private. Hurt and confused by all of this, you chose to flee the palace for a time.

xXx

Athrun held up his staff in a defensive stance. This was not the benevolent commander he had once known. If anything, this person was closer to the true Raww le Klueze than the farce that resided within Athrun’s memories. Whether he was real or not, Athrun was more than ready to fight this man. While the things written about him in the profile was as farfetched as either of Athrun’s summoned creatures, the all too familiar ring to these twisted facts made Athrun uncomfortable. The estrangement between him and his father, his mother dead, Klueze as his father’s advisor… It all had a strange echo with his true past.

“Klueze!” Kira shouted, his eyes blazing with purple fire.

Athrun did not know where he had found the time to nock five arrows, but Kira loosed the tremendous shot from his giant war bow, aiming straight for the masked man’s chest. With a swipe of his hand, Klueze commanded the branches of a tall tree to swat the arrows aside.

Before the last arrow hit the ground, all hell broke loose.

Trees opened eyes in faces grown suddenly from their gnarled bark. The entire forest seemed to come to life, turning plants into hostile monsters swinging vines, roots and even leaves in every direction. Kira was loosing flurries of arrows at the oncoming hordes, pinning wild bushes and even some of the raging trees. Lacus was holding a magical barrier to protect the townspeople from the savage creatures. Athrun wondered only for a second what to do. Fire. Creatures made from wood and plants were weak against fire. He reached out for the Phoenix, and in one flaring instant, the world all around him burst into glorious flames.

Then there was silence as the surrounding forest lay strewn in ashes at his feet. The smell of wood smoke mixed with the sickly sweet fumes plant sap bubbling, hung thickly in the air.

Lacus breathed a sigh of both relief and fatigue before dropping the protective barrier that had held the renegade woodland at bay. She sank to her knees. White magic was not used in the front lines, but it certainly took its toll on the wielder. Kira was there immediately, placing a supporting arm around her delicate shoulders.

“Kira…” Lacus chirped weakly before resting her head in the crook of his arm, eyelids drooping closed from pure exhaustion.

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten about you, my little Halfling friend,” the masked man announced with a sinister grin, well aware that they could no longer rely on Lacus for protection. “Half the forest may be gone, but that does not make me powerless!”

As Klueze spoke, new shoots of vines sprouted up from the decimated forest graveyard. The rapidly growing plants gained thorns, and as they grew, the thorns gradually changed into vicious barbs the size of small daggers. The hungry vines hurled themselves at Lacus and Kira at a tremendous speed, but Athrun was faster. He darted between his friends and the approaching vines and twirled his staff like a fan. Waves of fire emitted from his weapon, singeing everything in his path. All that was left of the newly-sprouted vines were charred bits of thorns.

“So the royal hatchling still chooses to defy me,” the man’s sinister voice mocked. The glassy eyeholes of his mask seemed to glow. “You are returning to the palace, whether or not you keep up this foolishness of yours.” His lips slid into a malicious grin, making for a stomach-twisting sight below that emotionless mask. “It seems I will have to teach you that the hard way!”

Athrun prepared himself to counter another attack from the masked man. He was not about to lose to a madman.

Suddenly, a shriek rose up from the group of townspeople behind them, and several of them started milling about in a panic. Involuntarily, Athrun spun to see what the commotion was about.

“Papa!” Fllay was screaming just as Athrun’s eyes fell on George Allster. He was being lifted into the air by a tangle of vines. The ensnaring plants stopped when their prey was at eye-level with their masked master.

“L-Let me go! Please!” the man cried, his face going red as the vines tried to squeeze the life out of him. “P-Put me down, I beg of you!!”

“George Allster…” Klueze said in that considering tone of his, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he watched the helpless man struggle. “You have failed me, if I remember correctly. Not only that, but you also seem to have betrayed me…”

“Please, Master Klueze, Papa did nothing wrong!” Fllay pleaded. “Put him down!”

“Oh?” the velvety voice purred at the redhead, glassy eyeholes shifting towards her with interest. “And why should I? I ordered him to bring the prince back and he failed. Someone needs to be punished for all this.”

“It— It’s all his fault!” she shrieked, thrusting an accusing finger at Athrun. “We tried to get him to go back to the palace, but he would not listen! Instead, he forced us to come with him into this wretched forest!”

We were trying to help you, Athrun thought, a feeling of betrayal lodging in his chest. No one ever forced you…

“Hmmm, I could not agree more… What a disobedient child,” Klueze replied, shaking his head sadly, as if Athrun truly was a mere child and he could not believe the extent of that child’s stubbornness. “This whole mess certainly is his fault.”

“Y-Yes!” Fllay nodded eagerly. “So you’ll let Papa go and punish him instead?”

That pointing finger was still stabbing at him.

“Your words contain some truth, little girl… however, no,” Klueze replied with a sour twist of his mouth. “I cannot waste my time with fools who make promises they cannot keep. This worthless wretch has begged me to spare his family if he handed me the prince in return.” He turned his cold gaze on the squirming man trapped in vines. “I have spared your family, but you have not fulfilled your end of the bargain. My mercy has run out…”

The vines entangling her father grew thorns.

“M-Master Klueze, please—” he whimpered pitifully.

The poor man did not have time to scream. His eyes bulged as the barbed lengths penetrated his body. He convulsed one last time before they released him. His eyes were glazed with death even before he hit the ground like a boneless lump.

“PAPA, NO!!” Fllay’s heart-wrenching cry sounded throughout the entire forest.

Athrun stared as the red-headed girl stumbled across the sea of dead leaves to reach the very still form of her father. Her body shook with unchecked sobs.

“Papa!” she cried over and over. “Papa!”

Before Athrun knew it, he was standing next to her. He did not remember moving his feet. He felt as though his own stomach had been ripped out.

“I’m sorry…” Athrun whispered.

“GET AWAY, MONSTER!!” she shrieked, clutching her dead father’s body protectively, almost as if she feared Athrun might take him away. Once he backed away quietly, she fixed him with a frigid glare. “This is all your fault…” Her whispered words came out like the threatening hiss of a snake. “My Papa is dead because you’re such a selfish creep!”

--

Kira watched the exchange between Fllay and his best friend with growing apprehension. He could not help feeling the painful echo of the past resurfacing in his heart. There had once been a time she had yelled at him like that. The real Fllay’s father had died on a sinking space ship, incinerated in an instant. Fllay had blamed Kira for his death, for Kira had not been able to save him. Now he saw the same scenario replaying itself, only this time, she had her sights set on Athrun…

Just what kind of video game is this!? his mind screamed. For the hundredth time, he tried to quit, but all that was left of the main menu screen was a static blur.

He saw Athrun turn away from Fllay. His friend’s eyes had that distant look again, staring at nothing as he seemed to start trudging in whatever direction he happened to find himself going. Kira called out to him, but he did not respond. He could not let Athrun go off on his own, not in that state of mind! Gently, he laid down the sleeping Lacus and started after Athrun.

That was when he noticed the weighing and measuring look on the masked man’s face, his glassy eyes locked on Fllay.

“Perhaps I will have my payment after all, George Allster,” he murmured.

Kira did not think he was supposed to have heard. Klueze descended slowly, making a soundless landing beside the mourning redhead. He reached out a gloved hand…

“Don’t you touch her!” Kira growled.

He felt the power of the Seed inside him burst to life. Everything around him seemed to slow as he lunged forward. As if by magic, a slender blade appeared in his hands. It had much the same colouring as the war bow he had held earlier. Right then, he did not care where the weapon had come from. All that mattered was stopping that man from taking Fllay. All this went through his mind in the few seconds it took him to reach the pair standing beside the body. With all the strength he possessed, he plunged the slim length of sharpened steel into Klueze’s heart. Stabbing a man from behind was not the most courageous thing he had ever done, but at that moment, he could not make himself care.

“You again…!” the injured man rasped hoarsely.

Kira thought he could see raw fury glaring through the glassy holes of the mask. In an instant, Klueze was gone. Then all was quiet.

--

Lacus opened her eyes gingerly. The feeling of intense danger had subsided, but she was still reluctant to look around. It was as though a dull headache was lurking behind her eyes, and if she blinked or frowned too hard, it would come out in full, pounding force. The first thing she saw was Kira, panting heavily, clutching a long rapier in his hands – it was an elegant weapon of white and blue and red. Dimly, it reminded her of something, but she could not quite lay her finger on it.

“Kira?” she called softly.

“Lacus! You’re awake!” he exclaimed, and, before she could blink, he was there to help her up. Her legs were still surprisingly wobbly, but she stood, refusing to let it show.

“What… happened?” she asked, holding her head as she cast her eyes about. The townspeople all seemed to have fled. Fllay was sitting on the grass not too far away, her shoulders shaking. Was the girl weeping? Again, Lacus swept her eyes over the scene. “Where’s Athrun?”

“Athrun?” Shocked, Kira’s dulled purple eyes seemed to return to their normal state. At the same time, the rapier in his hands transformed back into a war bow. So he had been using the Seed… “Lacus, we have to find him!”

“Why? What has happened?” she asked.

As Kira started to explain, she felt her heart sink…

--

His injuries stung, but if they slowed him any, he kept his steps deliberate as he blindly followed the X-marker on his minimap. Athrun was not sure how long he had been walking. Creatures had stopped to attack him along the way. The first one had nearly finished him when he half-heartedly tried to defend himself with nothing but his staff. Though he had no real desire to fight back, the Shiva and the Phoenix had appeared the moment his life points went critical. Now, as he stumbled along, they hovered about him, as if concerned. Whenever an enemy approached, they chased it off for him. He almost wished they would not. Maybe if his character was KO’d somewhere Lacus could not revive him, the game would be over. He wanted this nightmare to end.

The memory of Fllay’s cold eyes, brimming with tears, yet glaring daggers at him, kept intruding on his thoughts, making him wince.

Maybe if he went back to the palace, the way he should have in the first place, Raww le Klueze would stop sacrificing innocents… The marker on his map started glowing. He was near his destination. He was not sure how the game knew where he wanted to go, but then, there were a great many things the game should not have known.

Though he had a fair idea of what he would say once he arrived – he wanted to be rid of all these nagging questions buried at the bottom of his heart – a part of him had silently hoped that he would be KO’d and somehow find himself at a ‘Game Over’ screen before he could reach this point. Stop being such a selfish coward! he chided himself firmly. The sacrifices would stop if he went back.

Finally, he stood in front of a dark, looming stone wall, tended by a pair of guards in red and gold armour. Behind that stone wall stood a palace, its white walls glittering in the morning sun. As he approached the building, he felt his summoned creatures returning. The guards moved as if to block his path, then seemed to recognize him.

“Your Highness!” one of them gasped. “Your father has been searching everywhere for you!”

“Please, come this way!” the other added keenly.

Athrun barely heard their words as they continued to flood him with formalities. He was almost disappointed when one of them healed his wounds, though relief from the pain was greater than his disappointment. He had not realized just how much he hurt until the hurt was washed away by the healing spell.

The twisting halls inside the palace were all one long blur to him, and before he had time to change his mind, he was there…

Athrun had a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach as he approached the two oversized doors that led to the throne room. He had come all this way, thinking that doing this would make everything right, and now he was afraid of what he would find waiting for him behind those foreboding slabs of ornately carved wood. As the guards announced him, he had the strangest feeling that all this had happened before. Memories of a taller man wrenching him up to eye level by his collar, angry eyes boring holes into him, the feeling of being flung across the room and skidding across the floor so silver specks flew before his eyes, the sound of a gun being loaded, the sight of the taller man aiming the weapon straight at him…

Athrun had to drag his feet to keep them from halting. Lifting them took so much effort, it was like hiking through knee-deep mud. The doors swung open, momentarily blinding him with the shimmering radiance of all the splendour inside the throne room.

And inside that room, Athrun’s worst nightmare came alive.

“Athrun,” came a low growl that resounded with permanent disapproval.

He felt his knees go weak as the familiar voice grated on his ears. There was no mistaking it. He was no mere NPC, and this definitely was no longer a game. The man who stood there, towering over him, was his father – his real father – Patrick Zala.

“F-Father…”

Athrun’s voice faltered as he was overcome by a multitude of confusing emotions cascading from the cracks in his heart, flooding his soul. The questions and accusations he had been preparing in his head were drowned out by waves of affection and respect, followed closely by a deep sympathy. On top of that came fear and hesitation, wreathed with agony and crowned with longing – a desperate need to be accepted just once, even for the most insignificant accomplishment. A small voice at the back of his mind tried to tell him that this was not real. It’s an illusion! Fight it! the little voice insisted. He heeded the voice and took a step back, away from the ghosts of his past.

He could escape this trap. He could use either Phoenix or Shiva’s wings and just dart out the window. The guards would not expect it and they would not be able to stop him – they had taken away all his weapons and equipment.

“No one is allowed to approach the king while carrying weapons… You will have to disarm, Your Highness,” one of them had said apologetically.

But even through taking his staff, the summoned creatures could not be taken away. They were a part of him as much as his arms and his legs were – closer still, they were inside of him. And Kira and Lacus were still out there. They were worried about him. He was on the verge of reaching out to the Phoenix, when his father spoke in a softened tone.

“My son,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “you’ve come back…”

Athrun’s eyes widened in pure shock and bewilderment as his father approached with a warm smile and wrapped him up in a strong embrace. He stood there, staring at nothing as a single tear slipped down his cheek. The warmth, the approval he had yearned for… it was here.

“Welcome home, Athrun,” his father said, his voice thick with emotion.

Athrun bravely fought back the sobs that forced to break free from his constricted chest. His body quivered with the effort of holding them, but he held, for he did not dare show weakness in front of this man. The silent trickles that managed to escape his eyes were not tears of sadness, but tears of utter relief as the years of resentment towards his father, and the inevitable self-loathing that accompanied it, was washed out of him. His father truly cared about him. Patrick Zala was not a monster and he was not a murderer. He was a human being who made mistakes, like any other. And above all, he was a loving father.

“It’s all right, son…” the big man whispered.

Athrun’s last attempts at holding back crumbled at these consoling words. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into his father’s broad chest, letting the tears run freely as Patrick Zala stroked his hair soothingly.

To be continued...