Sunlight

Disclaimer: I don't own WoW, or any of that stuff copyrighted to Blizzard, blah blah blah. These characters, however, are mine.
Disclaimer #2: If the introduction of the character Zidane seems familiar, it's because it was the first chapter of a separate story I was going to do wholly focused on that character that I put up on the WoW forums (back when he was named Opeth, which I changed since.. well, that name is taken in this story as you'll soon see). I thought it'd be better involving the character in this story though, so I moved him here.
Disclaimer #3: In case you didn't notice the note in the story's description, there will be eventual M/M stuff here (not in this chapter, but it'll come eventually), not to mention some random acts of brutality, so.. if severe bloodshed or mansex doesn't appeal to you... well, yeah. Though yes, I admit, this story IS plot heavy, so I hope you guys will not mind a more slow pacing.
Disclaimer #4: Reuploaded for extra material to make the chapter easier to follow with actiony bits.
Disclaimer #5: I love reviews, as does anyone else, I'm sure. So, hopefully if I see enough interest in people wanting more, I'll work on putting more up at a nice steady pace.

1 ~ Mysterious Order

Work work work, it was all Alexandre had found time to do back then. Goldshire was always busy, always filled with the wrong kinds of people, and it was always busy because of those wrong kinds of people. The sun always seemed to shine its brightest on the small town, although it was a shine that had gradually grown to become more of a nuisance than a pleasure over the years; always burning, always persistent, and neverending until night time. Though his job kept him indoors, even there it was impossible for Alex to go without being bothered by scalding, burning flames.

I shouldn't be complaining, he thought to himself, his mind focused on his current dilemma even with the rythmic slamming down of his blacksmithing hammer threatening to jar him away from sensible thinking. I did take the job, so I suppose if it were anyone's fault, it would be mine...

That was always Alexandre Bashira's method of thinking. He never was one to put blame on others, which was in most cases, a double-edged sword. While to most it was a noble state of mind to have- and a rare one in such a day and age, at that- it was always the kind of thinking that kept him wondering about what to do about all those faults he'd put on himself.

...but come now, Lord, don't you think I have waited to be put in my rightful place long enough?

Alex had been doing a lot of questioning of religion since he had become a paladin. He couldn't help it; though he had not trained long in the art of the Light, it was always in his nature to judge the existence of greater, wholly benevolent beings living eternally in the skies above. What else was there to do whilst providing arms to those in greater need, anyhow? Besides.. no one so mighty and merciful would cruelly wield such unforgiving sunlight day in and day out.

It was unfortunate that the perfect life as a paladin could only be as stationairy as a house of cards.

One breath or one step, and ya knock it all down, his mind jeered, audibly noting his displeasure with that thought with a small sigh.

One more slam of the hammer, and Alex finished his latest work: a finely shined steel rapier, with a masterfully crafted diamond hilt. Though he would never admit it and though he appreciated his job far less than most others would, Alex was a rather good blacksmith. It was one of the reasons why his constant pessimistic attitude hadn't got him fired.

"Oy, Bashira! C'mere, lad!" Alexandre turned his head, and speak of the Devil... there was his pudgy dwarven boss, Merrin, beckoning him to come over to the other side of the blacksmithing building.

As Alex silently obeyed the command, it had become more apparent that another one of the reasons why he kept his job was thanks to the sheer intimidation factor he had on most people; though he wasn't much taller than most other Humans his age, he had the muscle and a gaze of stone to make people think twice about messing with him. It was always a question in the minds of random strangers why Alex- or anyone as big as him- would actually stick around such an annoying town with such a boring job rather than serving in the field among other capable men and women.

"So, I see ye finished tha' dame's sword, hm?"

"All over but the killing, I reckon."

Alex nodded his head, lips forming a grim smirk. He held the weapon out with one hand for Merrin to inspect while the other wiped droplets of sweat from his forehead, slightly ruffling the long black bangs of hair that had stuck to his skin as a result.

The dwarf rubbed his red-bearded chin as his eyes took on a delighted glow. "Aye.. tha' weapon be quite tha beauty. Almost as gohgeous as tha lass comin' ta pick it up, ah'd say." Merrin let out a gruff chuckle, which came out just the way it usually did when he said something he and only he found amusing: it started off sounding almost like a hacking cough, only to turn into a low grumbling noise that best resonated the sounds of someone choking on their own blood just before an impending death.

Even through that, Alexandre's look remained serious. "So, you saw the woman who's picking this up?" he questioned. The tone of his voice almost hinted towards interest for the lady he had yet to meet. While it wasn't exactly quite like that, however, Alex took the slightest bit of amusement trying to gauge Merrin's level of what passes as 'uh gohgeous lass'.

Obviously, Merrin took the inquiry as the former. "Be trustin' yer ol' boss an' his emerald eyes, yeh? Well ta answer ye question, yes, this lass be quite tha bombshell. Don' think she'd be int'rested in ye, though."

Alex tilted his head. "And she would obviously go for someone the likes of you, eh?"

"Uh course she would. No fine lady can resist mah dwarven charm, ya hear, ol' boy?" Merrin accentuated (or butchered, depending on whose side you're on) his case with a little flexing of his arms.

The human merely stood in place, and tried hard not to laugh. The temptation to do so was certainly there, but Alex had soon come to the conclusion that the dwarf was not worth the laughter; instead, he merely placed the sword on a nearby wooden table and crossed his muscular arms in front of his chest. "I only see one ol' boy here, boss."

Normally Merrin would resent that comment, but something had obviously caught his attention just outside. "Eh, e'scuse me fah two seconds, lad." With little hesitation, he made his way to the blacksmithing entrance. Alex followed him with his eyes, and to his surprise- and his amusement- he watched the old man approach a pale haired, night elf woman. She looked to be the human equivalent of a mid-twenties dream come true, though she was more than likely hundreds of years older than that, at the least. The sunlight that cascaded into the building through its open entrance had coated the woman in a radiant beam, just as if her presence was a dream, or otherworldly for that matter. Her lips pursed into a warm smile, and her glowing eyes wielded compassion and honesty.

"Okay... so maybe dwarves have some taste," Alex grumbled lowly to himself. Seconds later, he found himself retracting that sentence. "...never-fuckin-mind, yeh."

Merrin shoved on by the elf, which tarnished the woman's face by converting her smile into a displeased sneer; the shock of the abrupt push and the disgust she took towards the dwarf combined caused her to step aside, and there Alex could see the real lass the old man had his eye on.

"M'lady Pinkypocky.. my, look at ye. I mus' letcha know, ye look rather elegant today." His face was plastered with a cheesy grin underneath his thick, red beard, as he stared directly into the shimmering purple eyes of a bouncy, cherubic- and not to mention tiny- pink haired gnome.

Fuckin' A right, Pinkypocky, Alexandre thought silently, as his features took on that of a thresher, lips pulling back into a sharky grin.

"'Ey there, mister Merrin! How's business, huh?" The little lady waved happily, large, fluffy pigtails flopping up and down as she bounced in place. The poor dwarf was smitten, alright. His eyes took on an odd gleam as the Gnome bounced in place on the balls of her feet.

"Ye needn't be askin' this ol' dog about bus'ness, my lil' one," he answered, and answered with a previously unseen sort of glee at that. "Come now, lemme sort out yer order while 'Lex finishes up."

Somewhere in between looking at the last adjustments he'd need to make on his weapon and laughing his ass off at his boss all on the inside, Alex had shifted his attention to something else. That night elf he'd taken note of, was now staring at him. The smile that had been on her face before Merrin brushed by her had returned, and while Alex didn't usually have reason to smile on the job, he had no other choice but to simply smile back at her.

"Bashira," yelled the rugged Dwarf, "get that rapier sheathed and packaged fer me, would'ja?"

"Yeh, yeh," Alex nodded his head, not once taking his attention away from the elven stranger that caught his eye. At least, not until...

"I dun' pay ye ta gawk at the women, ya hear?! Get back ta work!"

Son of a bitch, I hate you, Merrin.

With a deep grumble, Alex turned away and went to his desk to wrap the weapon in his hands. He always found it somewhat amusing to have to gift wrap objects primarily meant to maim or kill, but at the same time, he was known to be easily amused.

After a moment or two of looking for the wrapping paper on his desk, he noticed two things: one, there was no such paper to be found, and two, there was someone standing over him. Someone Alex immediately thought out in his mind to be that beautiful woman he'd been staring at.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said, smile on his face before he even glanced up to see who it was. When he did, that smile was quickly erased.

"Ahem," the very male night elf answered, "thank you for the compliment... well, not really, but.. this is for you."

The man was imposing, to say the least; at least well over seven feet tall, possibly a good three hundred and fifty pounds, and long blue hair with a small goatee on his chin. What made the confrontation odd, however, was the fact that this intimidating man was holding out a gift-wrapped object to him.

...maybe he just ran out of regular paper. Or couldn't get a hold of some bag to throw it in. Either way, Alexandre just had to see what was inside.

"What is it?" Alex asked as he accepted the item.

"You'll find out once you open it, won't you?"

"Cheeky bastard, aren't you?"

Alex tore into the paper and revealed the object inside. A book.

"And who are you to just randomly give me something like this? Are you calling me a moron? Do you think I can't read?" The elven male simply stared down at the ebony haired blacksmith. No sign of amusement was on his face. In fact, he already garnered a distaste for this human. He was far from funny, and to make matters worse, he smelled bad.

And let's not forget, the elf reminded himself, he tried to hit on me.

"Who the hell are you?" Alex asked, who at that point, was beginning to show signs of agitation. It didn't help that his boss had to start with him earlier, and now this. Definitely a shit day at the office, as Alexandre would've commented to himself.

The elf paused at the question, and sighed. Sure, he wasn't all too thrilled with the man, but he wasn't out to start a fight, either. "My name," he said lowly, "is Vincent."

Elf with a human name, eh? Biggest piece of shit I ever heard.

"Funny. Now, tell me your real name." Vincent gave no response, or even so much as an inkling of a hint to showing signs of hearing the request. Instead, he briskly left the sight of the human, and all Alex had in the wake of the encounter, was that book which he kept clutched in his blistered hands, with an envelope attached to it.

Alex would go back home to Westfall that afternoon, and he was insistent that the mysterious delivery given to him was going to be the most interesting thing that happened to him that day. At least, he figured that much.

~~~~~~~~~~

With a deep, relaxed breath, Xandrienne let the large spider pass by him. The springy green fur on its spindly legs brushed against the priest's white and purple robe as the violet haired elf watched it complete its inquisitive circle around him, coming to a stop and laying on the floor. Xandrienne's body shook in a bit of fright, before eventually, the shaking came to a stop. Soon after that, a smile crept onto his beautiful, scarless face.

I'm... I'm no longer afraid of spiders!

To confirm his ability to tolerate the eight legged creature near him, he knelt down and reached out with a soft right hand, gently patting the very green animal. The spider's head perked up, and its mandibles clicked audibly as it glanced in the elf's direction. At that moment, it lifted one of its legs and seemed to mimic Xandrienne's motions, by patting the priest on the shoulder.

"Yay!" Xandrienne gleamed and leaned forward. He flung his arms around the spider and gave it a great big hug. Perhaps it would be the start of a beautiful friendship.

"Do you like your pet, Xandy?" The bouncy priest hopped to his feet and glanced into the doorway, where a human woman stood- his guardian.

"Uh huh!" Xandrienne replied happily. The grin on his face was one that Julia had become used to seeing. It was that grin that coaxed her into letting the elf stay with her in the first place. Sure, he was so much older than her- by one hundred and thirtyfive years, if she recalled correctly- but he had the innocence of a little human boy, and it was that adorable nature that forced her to welcome him to her home with open arms ten months before. With how they had both got along over those ten months, she'd become comfortable with the thought of being a good mother.

If only I could be happy all the time like him. Julia closed her eyes and sighed wistfully before she widened a smile at Xandy, as she loved to call him.

"I told you it would fix your fears," she stated positively, "it'd be nice for you to have a pet to play with around the house, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind another friendship."

Xandrienne beamed at Julia. His eyes gleamed in a show of unbridled joy as they always did whenever she- or anyone, for that matter- had done something nice for him. She was almost afraid of that look because every time she saw it, she thought it'd mean Xandy would soon start crying in happiness. So damned cute, though. How his old parents could've been so cruel to him, I'll never understand...

It wasn't much of a surprise to anyone who ever met Xandrienne that his tastes as a male night elf were rather different than that of most of his brothers. He loved men and he had little to no problem with expressing it, though he enjoyed friendships with anyone in general. It was hard for anyone to dislike him; even those straight males he'd gained crushes on over the years couldn't help but remain in good spirits with him because of how caring he was as a person, regardless of taste when it came down to companionship.

Of all people to hold grudges with Xandy for it, however, were his parents, and his three brothers. He'd told Julia how he was originally destined to train to become a warrior, but the demented and cruel training he was put through, coupled with the verbal beatings he'd taken heavily over time, it consumed him to the point where he'd become deathly ill. He became slender, his voice became softer, and his hair color faded. When Julia found Xandrienne walking along the roads of Westfall, she'd thought his hair had always been white. Her surprise was rather clear when she started to notice streaks of bright had begun to reform.

And may the Light bless his soul that he overcame his sickness and made it his first priority to become a priest. No ordinary men around here could have ever recovered the way he had.

"I promise I'll take good care of'im!" Xandy looked down at the spider at his feet and smiled happily. The glee in his voice caused Julia to snap out of her thoughts.

"I know you will, dear. Have you come up with a name for him yet?"

"I think I'm gonna call'im Opeth! D'ya think he'll like that name?"

Julia laughed heartily and nodded her head in approval. "It sounds like quite the fitting name for a spider. I'm sure he'll enjoy it just fine."

"Great!" Xandy grinned and leaned down to give more attention to his newfound friend. It was nice to have a pet around, someone he could play with all the time; a godsend considering he was still searching for more friends in a part of the world where he still felt just a bit meek and outlandish.

"I'm going to visit Salma and buy some ingredients I'll need for the stew tonight. You don't mind having some Westfall stew tonight, do you, Xandy?"

"Aw, no! Can we have radish kimchi tomorrow, though? Pleeease?" Xandrienne shot her a pleading, puppy dog look. It was another look that got Julia every time.

"Oh, sure, we can go out for some tomorrow if you like." She smiled, pushing away stray bangs of blonde hair from her pale blue eyes, just in time for her to brace herself for the bearhug Xandy gave her in response.

"Thankyathankyathankya! It's been so long since I had Darnassian food! Yer the best, mom." Xandrienne grinned and gave Julia a kiss on the cheek before he loosened his vice grip on her. She seemed to be quite accustomed to the pouncing hugs the near seven feet tall elf gave her.

What she still wasn't used to, however, was actually being called 'mom'. It brought a tear to her eye even at that moment, which she quickly wiped away to keep the elf from seeing. "No need to say that, Xandy. I'm only being as nice a mother as you deserve to have."

Xandrienne stepped back to glance down at Opeth, beaming down with that perpetual smile of his. The beginning of what he hoped to be a fantastic day, indeed.

"Xandy!" crooned his mother from downstairs.

"Yeeeeah?"

"There's a man here that wants to talk to you!"

There was a second part to that sentence that not even a Kaldorei's hearing could catch, between Xandrienne's distance and the already low tone it was spoken in. However it was there, and spoken in a confused state as Julia stared out into the bright sunlight that shone in the doorway of her home.

"...at least there was..."

All that was left was a small, rectangular shaped object that lay on Julia's doorstep, with a plain envelope resting atop of it. The wind nearly threatened to blow the envelope away, but the human swiped it and the object from the ground and turned into the house.

"Who is it?" Xandy asked as he moved to see who it was that apparently wanted to see him, but Julia stepped in front of him.

"The man already left, but I believe he wanted to give these to you."

Outstretched in her arms were the items left over, which Xandrienne took and inspected curiously. "Who would have somethin' for me..?" he pondered aloud as he tore away the thin layer of paper that concealed the larger of the two objects. Underneath, was a book. Rather plain appearance, something Xandy hadn't seen before, though. Then again, his taste usually spanned across books with more interesting covers to them. This, however, seemed dreadfully ordinary and dull. A pale green cover with no title over it, nor on the spine, or even the back; nothing to distinguish it what so ever. Apparently, the only way to figure out what it was about, was to open it.

That was exactly what he did, and what he saw only furthered his sense of inquiry. "...so.." he mumbled, eyes not leaving the book's pages, "..was this man... cute?"

Julia giggled softly as she watched the elf wander outside, as if he hoped to catch a glimpse of the man behind the delivery. Sadly, all that was left was the wind that blew Xandrienne's violet mane in front of his face. The strong gusts almost tore the envelope from Xandy's hands, to which he frowned and began to tear into it.

Maybe this will explain why that book was... eh?

The priest's chain of thought hit a screeching halt when something about the air started to bother him. It wasn't smell, wasn't a chill.. this was something a bit less obvious.

"Weird feelin'... not good..."

Before he could react any further, the book and envelope were knocked out of his hands as he was knocked to the ground.

"Xandy!" Julia screamed in worry, helplessly watching her 'son' flail as he was knocked off balance by a previously unseen assailant behind him who decided to take his time to come out of hiding in the shadows to reveal himself. Long blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin... and a deep red mask. A mask that more or less symbolized one's involvement with the Defias.

The attacker turned his body to give a sidelong glance to the shocked woman in the doorway of the home. The man's eyes seemed to twinkle as he slipped a glimmering dagger from the sheath at his hip and waved it tauntingly at her. Julia responded with another scream.

"Someone help! Anyone! Please!"

The man took one step towards the open doorway, in what was perhaps going to be an attempt to shut the woman up for good, but his attention shifted when he felt a hand tightly grip his pant leg. "Huh..."

The priest and the vagrant locked eyes. And in that moment, another scream entered the blonde's ears. This one, however, was much more shrill in nature, and much more damaging.

"Agh!" the human groaned in agony. His hands shot up to cover his ears, but it was no use. The only way to get the deafening sound out of his head was to run away, and that he did.

With more and more distance coming in between Xandrienne and the fleeing man, the momentarily disoriented elf rose to his feet. Acting fast, he defended himself in the only other way he knew how to.

In both hands, a ball of light began to form. With every second that passed, the glow of the holy light in the priest's hands intensified, up to a point where Xandrienne had to release the energy, lest he wanted to lose more energy than he needed to.

A sharp sting of pain hit the human, a searing feeling that felt as though the sun was beaming just inches away from his body. His entire frame jerked for a second, and the assailant crumbled to one knee. The good news for him, however, was that the shrill screaming that threatened to destroy his eardrums was gone. Letting the momentary burning sensation pass, he rose and turned around. The priest frantically searched in his soul for the strength to form two more beams of light in his hands as his attacker approached, a much more angry look on his face that replaced his prior look of overconfidence.

Xandrienne bit his bottom lip; this man was getting too close, slowly making it more and more apparent that he would not be able to cast another damaging spell in time. Just as he readied himself for the worst, however...

"Opeth! No, come back!" The fuzzy green spider did not listen to Julia's cries, as it quickly scampered in between the human and the elf, and lunged forward to latch onto the thug's chest. All eight legs attempted to squeeze the life out of the man who threatened his master, but all it did was anger the attacker further. He pried Opeth off of him and practically threw him aside. This did not sit well with Xandy.

"You... youuu!"

The tantrum that the elf was threatening to start up caused the man's gaze to switch back from the spider to Xandrienne, and he raised his fist which clenched that shiny, sharp blade. Before he could bring it down, though, he was stopped by a hand that tapped on his shoulder.

"Oi!"

The man turned around. WHAM!

A swift, and extremely powerful right hand did all but shatter the vagrant's nose. Though his nose was kept out of sight by the mask that covered his face, it was obvious to see the damage made by the blood that quickly dampened the red cloth, if not by that same fluid which trickled from the bottom of the mask and down the blonde's neck.

"On your feet, you Defias bastard," Alexandre muttered as he held the thug upright by the collar of his leather tunic. With a sharp tug, he flung the man off to the side, and pointed him off to the distance.

"Get outta here, now, or I'll rearrange more than your face!" The look in the warrior's eye said it all, though the macho words weren't meant for much more than to be the icing on the cake anyway. He just knocked that man senseless with one blow to the face, how could he not want to taunt the poor fuck any further?

Xandrienne's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he nearly swooned from the large, dark haired man who saved him from a potential beating... or perhaps something much worse. "My hero..." he murmured under his breath, unsure if he wanted the stranger to hear him say such things at that point in time.

Alex turned around to look at Xandy, though not from overhearing the elf's comment. Instead, it was just out of common courtesy to check on the taller male's condition. "Are you okay, buddy?"

~~~~~~~~~~


Work was never one of the finest things in life for Zidane to be doing. Meddling items to the more shady of the public in the dark alleys of Stormwind wasn't an easy job, and it certainly didn't make it easier with all that was on his mind. One would never know it by just looking at the odd red-head, but he was a man with a heart of gold, and the mere knowledge of his son having to go stay at the orphanage while he worked was something he hated more than anything.

However, there was little choice he had in the matter. All he had was the chance to suck it up, and hopefully take he and his son somewhere far away, and he wouldn't have to worry about anymore work. No more work. No more shady business. No more goddamn Defias.

"Oy! Get it together, man, you look like yer out on yer feet!"

Zidane snapped out of his momentary daze, and glanced at the sudden customer standing right across from him. "Oh, sorry, good sir. Here! I have a few things that might int'rest ya. Explosive type, right? Ya like watching things go boom? Well I got just the thing!" From his large black and purple robes, he procured a large bundle of red, tied up in one big linen knot: enough dynamite to send Cutthroat Alley into non-existence. Putting on his best Sunday smile, he offered the bundle to the man, who took it questioningly.

"Ya see? More than enough bang for a measly fifty silver. Whaddya think, sir?" The man continued inspecting the sticks of dynamite, but all in all, the stranger had displayed a look of disinterest. Nothing new to Zidane; it was the look of someone who wanted a little bit of a free taste of what was being sold to him. With a slight waver in his smile, the red-headed merchant went back to his robes.

"Okay, so maybe you like being a bit more subtle, huh? Well don't fret! This poison here will stop anyone dead in their tracks." The customer handed the explosives back to Zidane, in exchange for a small vial of a dark, crimson liquid. It practically looked like nothing more than a pint of blood.

"And how much does this go for?"

Zidane grinned broadly; not because of the question asked, but because he already knew whether the man was actually going to go for buying it or not. "Six gold pieces."

Sure enough the merchant's instincts were right, and the vial was handed back to him. "I'm not exactly lookin' fer somethin' a rich type would be buyin'. What else d'ya got?"

"Well, why not see for yourself, sir?" With a flick of his hand, Zidane swung one side of his robes open, revealing a whole stash of items; herbs, potions, knives, compact guns and ammo to boot, and numerous straps of explosives and gadgets- some of which Zidane hadn't even known the purpose of.

However, none of that had caught the eye of the wary customer. Instead, it was something far more simple. "...hey, tha's my watch!"

Swiftly, Zidane backed away. The tone in the man's voice was one expressing a will to fist fight, and fighting whilst being weighed down by so much merchandise- very fragile merchandise at that- was not much of a smart idea. Instead, he would back himself away until the alley cleared up into a more open area, luring the man closer. Just as he stepped out of the alley as well, he was grabbed and flung aside. "Do me a favor, Tenzan," asked the stealthed bodyguard, "next time you get a customer, make sure it's someone you haven't swindled already?"

Zidane smirked, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Eh, that's the first time that's happened to me, Jimmy. Don't go cryin' to me, in fact, Morgan has an old grudge stirred up every other day when he's workin', so go to him if ya got a problem."

Without even turning his attention away from the man on the ground, Jimmy replied. "Don't give me that crap, you hear? 'Cause yeah, I do have to deal with that jackass getting us noticed, but I don't need it from you, too." Forcing the unwelcome customer to his feet, the masked bodyguard shoved him back through the alley, and out onto the other side; right into a caravan parked in the center of the Trade District.

"Ah well. I suppose we're finding a new spot to hit now, eh?"

Jimmy turned his head and glanced up at his fellow employee. Zidane couldn't see most of his face through the mask, but the look in his eye said it all. "No, no new spot today for you. Go on home, Zidane."

Zidane blinked; his smile hadn't faded, but he was certainly taken back. "Excuse me?"

"I said... go on home. Come back to headquarters tomorrow and we'll talk about a reassignment."

"Reassignment? You can't do that.."

"I can't?" Jimmy stepped forward, brushing his hands off on his leather armor, as though they were covered completely in dirt, or blood. "Zidane, need I remind you that I am not just your backup, but I am your boss. And as much as I like you and enjoy how you work, and how I know you need this job more than most of these other morons, I cannot let these things happen. Because if I do, not only will you have no job to go back to, period, neither will any of us."

Zidane could do nothing in retaliation except slowly nod his head. What else could he do? He didn't have many choices, a problem that bothered him for a long time. Nothing ever seemed to be alterable, whether it came to job choices, decisions having to be made while on said job, or what to do about his son. All he could do was smile and play along with it, and that was what he did then. "Yeah... I understand, sir."

Jimmy gave a light shrug, and put a hand on Zidane's shoulder. "Come on, pal. You've known me for years, and this doesn't change that. So don't start calling me sir, all right?"

"Mmkay, sir."

Jimmy shook his head, pointing down the street. "Go on home, ya bastard." He laughed softly through his mask and gave Zidane a swat on the back, as he watched his friend head off.

At least I'll be able to pick up Oliver on time for once.

"Oh, hello, mister Tenzan! You're here early."

Zidane quirked another smile and nodded his head, which caused his long red bangs to fall in front of his dark brown eyes. "Yeah, I got off early, today. How are you this afternoon, miss Nightingale?"

"Oh, as good as any other day. Oliver's doing fine, of course. Shellene's been teaching him how to draw."

"Yeah?" Zidane's smile got a bit wider as he made his way up the ramp to the orphanage. "Natural born artist, huh?"

"You wouldn't believe it! He made a rather inspiring rendition of the park."

"Hold me back no more then, my lady, let the artist wait no longer for his old con man of a father." The playful look on Zidane's face only caused the matron to laugh and smile in return; the man was never without his charm, and she never thought anything more of such remarks than it to be one of the red-head's jokes.

Once inside, Zidane was immediately taken back by all the yelling and giggling and bustling of all the boys and girls. Usually by the time he made it there, most of the kids were in bed. In the middle of the day, everything was just a little too loud.

"How can you and Shelly keep control of these kids?" Zidane asked, voice almost drowned out by the aforementioned children.

"It's not so difficult. A lot of the children here look at Shellene like a mother figure. That's all most children need, a mother figure to look up to."

"Yeah..."

Nightingale gave Zidane a brief look of concern, before she glanced off and smiled at her fellow matron across the room. "Oh, there she is. And look, there's Oliver!" She looked back at Zidane and quirked a smile. "One moment, mister Tenzan, I'll go and get him."

Zidane watched as the middle-aged woman approached Shellene and Oliver, to which the young woman shot up to her feet, nodding emphatically before they exchanged a few words. Before long, Shellene tapped Oliver on the shoulder, causing him to stand up. She then pointed in his father's direction, to which his lips curled into as indifferent a look as can be. He shuffled to Zidane, and mumbled quickly to him in passing.

"I'll be out waiting on the horse, Zidane."

Zidane whirled around to attempt to stop his son from walking away without him, but Shellene soon snatched his attention. "Why don't you sit down for a moment, sir Tenzan? If.. you have the time, that is."

"Oh..." he trailed off, turning to the woman and giving a brief nod, "..oh, uh, sure! And please, I've told you a buncha times, call me Zidane."

The crafty merchant found an empty children's seat, to which he began to sit down, only to smirk and keep upright. "Your son is a rather bright boy."

"Thank you," Zidane smiled, "I like to let him learn things on his own. It gives him a bit more of a drive to do better, I think, if not make him feel a bit more proud that he's doing well by himself." He stopped himself for a second, thinking a bit about whether or not to add to that sentence, before ultimately deciding to. "I don't want him to have to depend on me, you know? The earlier he grows up and learns how to take things in stride, the better of a person he'll be."

"Yes, that is an interesting way of looking at it," said Shellene, "but, don't you think he would also be better off with a father figure around more? A mother is a god in the eyes of a child, but without that, and without a father to look up to that they can consider a hero..."

Zidane furrowed a brow in concern as he listened silently to the advice, unable to reject or accept it. All he could do was sit and listen. "..what do you think Oliver has to look forward to in the future, Zidane?"

"I.. dunno. A carefree life. A life without a god who doesn't let him down with her alcohol addictions, or without a hero who has nothing but chinks in his armor."

Zidane took a step back, suddenly wanting out of the conversation. "He'll be all right," he continued during his shuffling towards the exit. Before he could get away, however...

"Sir Tenzan..."

Zidane stopped helplessly in his tracks, right in the doorway. Bah, so close to freedom.

"Yes, beautiful?"

"Your wife let Oliver down. Don't let that cause you to follow in her footsteps, will you?"

Zidane could do nothing but nod, before he slipped outside. There, of course, was his son already saddled up on their horse, ready to go. He had the reins held almost as if he was already used to riding one and just wanted to leave as soon as possible, even if it meant leaving on his own.

Well, Zidane thought to himself, I'm off from work early, might as well try and make this a father and son weekend.

It was peaceful enough at home. A silent dinner, with few spots of questions about Zidane's work and Oliver's school being traded back and forth in between.

The real interesting part of the evening hadn't come until late, when both Zidane and his son were fast asleep. "Huh..."

Zidane awakened from a relatively brief slumber on his couch when there was a knock on the door, only accentuated by the sound of rainfall outside. "Who the hell would come here now?" he asked himself aloud.

Then again... who the hell would come here, period?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

He was doubly surprised to find that the person at his doorstep was a night elf of towering size, long blue hair matted on the sides of his face thanks to the rain, and in his hands, a book and a letter to go with it.

The strange elf didn't bother to introduce himself, merely outstretching his arms to offer Zidane the items. "These are for you," he said blankly.

Zidane took a moment to let it sink in. He was dreaming. It had to be a dream. No person- no elf, for that matter- that knew of him would even want to bother him, especially at this time of night. Trying to make sense of it beyond that not only made Zidane's head hurt, but it gave him a look of utter confusion; one that the elf could see through the darkness that the night had brought.

Silence broke between the two of them for a moment, and only the rainfall the elf stood under caused any sort of sound. Finally after a roll of his eyes, the elf spoke again, this time much more firm. "Sir, it's raining, and these are for you."

Dumbly, the human took the book and envelope, and just like that, the elf departed. Zidane had no chance to ask for the man's name, and perhaps it was best that he didn't get it. With a light grumble, Zidane closed the door and moved back towards his not-very-comfortable couch to get back to sleep.

Hmph.. I'll save the reading for when I'm not already exhausted.

Zidane chucked the book onto the coffee table, and it managed to open to a random page. Sighing, he had reached over to close the book again, but stopped to let his eyes linger on what they saw, as if to make sure he was really seeing the fact that there were no words written on the paper.