[PP - F7] The Baldur Feels Conflicted [Complete]

[Lessa 1]

Silently, the woman wondered why she did not spend more time here. There was a peace about this place that did wonders for her worn soul. The people here spoke in hushed tones, more like the murmuring of the wind than the collective voices of players and NPCs. Their movements were slower, fitting for a mountain solace like the one she found herself in. It was a far cry from the chaos of the lower floors, and for once, Lessa found some comfort among other people. For once, she did not have to retreat deep into dangerous territory to find the quiet she so craved.

In an attempt to sink further into the evening's shadows, the blonde had swapped her flashy gear for black slacks, a dark blouse, and her long, black coat. With her hands shoved deep into the safety of her pockets, she leaned back into the bench. She and the wood beneath her frame groaned in tandem, and she enjoyed the sensation of being off her feet after a busy day. Her gaze returned to the few players who milled about around her, and she found herself again appreciating the town for what it was. Quiet. Relaxed. And really, quite beautiful. The emerald crystals bathed the entire area in the most breathtaking aura, and the girl breathed in deeply as she took it all in. The crisp night air, the shimmering lights-

And that was when she saw him. Her breath caught in her throat, nothing more than a gurgled sputter slipping past her chapped lips. Could it be?

Edited March 7, 2016 by Lessa

[Baldur 0]

The Seventh floor had long been the one he returned to for solitude. Often Baldur had intentionally gotten lost in the mountainous terrain; and that had been before everything was turned upside down. It may have all been digital, but up here the air seemed clearer, sharper, and the faint scent of pine trees was carried on the breeze. All those peaceful thoughts, however, were not what brought him to the floor this time.

Brushing aside his dark hair from his forehead as it was riled up by the rush of wind up the mountain, Baldur stared across the square. She was dressed differently, but she couldn't hide that glow of the sun on her hair. She was a singular person amidst the thousands of other survivors. She was broken, damaged, hurt... but she still had this lingering hope. This... undying optimism. She was easy for him to find, because she was still frequently helping people who were new to leaving the Starting City and so was known to so many for her kindness.

But he couldn't will his feet to move. Could he face her again after all this time?

That was when he saw her notice him. Their eyes locked for a moment and her reaction was visible. Moving his lead filled feet, Baldur moved in her direction. At first he thought about playing it off, but that would be even less fair to her. Instead of his armor, Baldur wore his typical blue haori decorated with white fire rising up from the bottom. Beneath, he wore a heavy woven material of reds and golds that reminded him of the setting sun. Ever present at his side, was the katana Tyger had forged for him. He gripped the handle now to keep himself from betraying his nerves.

"Less-a" He croaked as he got closer. How long had it been since he had last spoken to someone?

He coughed to clear his throat and try again. "Lessa... it is... it is good to see you again." He stood there before her, his tall imposing figure... yet on the inside he felt weaker and more vulnerable than he had since.... since then.

[Lessa 1]

It was.

After all this time, there he stood. His appearance differed slightly from the last time they had met; colors she did not normally associate with him hung heavy across his tall frame. When had he acquired that gear? Then, she mentally scolded herself for wondering something so silly. It had been a year since she had last seen the dark haired player. So much had changed since then, and surely, his attire was the not even the worst of it.

One thing that did not change was the weapon that rode at his hip, and the wide-eyed way in which he regarded her. No, this was certainly Baldur. His expression mimicked the one he had wore when he first met her, so long ago. Confusion, awe, and perhaps slight notes of fear. Then, she had been nothing more than a high-level player to him, someone who could easily end him with a single swing of her heavy claymore. The fear, she could have understood then. But why now? And why did his voice crack when he spoke to her?

"Baldur," she greeted gently. "It's good to see you too."

[Baldur 0]

He had played this scenario out in his mind a hundred times. How would she respond to seeing him? To seeing... just him. She had been a mentor to him. A comrade in the same guild. Someone he considered a friend, even though the time they had spent together had always seemed brief, they had always seemed to him to have an instant bond of trust. Some understanding or connection between the foundations of their characters. She had been a stranger when they first met, but he had seen in her eyes then that she would not hurt them, and he could see that same warmth in them now.

"Baldur," she greeted gently. "It's good to see you too."

Was it? It was certainly good to see a friend again after all this time. A year ago he had wiped clean his friend list so that no one could find him. All they would know was that his name was not on the monument on the first floor.

"It is - " He cleared his throat to free his unused voice again, " - good to see again."

He blushed for a moment. He could still do that? You already said that you fool.

"I mean. It is good to be seen." Smooth.

His blue eyes looked away. He couldn't meet her gaze for long and his griped tightened on the very tip of the handle, the kashira, as if for strength.

"I... I am sorry for worrying you... all this time." His voice was still gravely from disuse, but it had been a long time since they had last spoken.

You disappeared for a year, you insensitive fool. What good is an apology?

The wind blew out across the square and rustled his brown hair to make it look even messier. He had cleaned himself up before coming to look for her. Before returning to civilization, as it were. He stared off into the town. NPCs wandered meaninglessly, players with green diamonds above their heads bartered. It was strange to look at this and see life and civilization, but he had avoided it all for so long. He had been afraid for so long. Broken for so long.

"I need your help."

[Lessa 1]

The man's apology meant nothing to her. Not because she did not believe that it was genuine. On the contrary, she knew that he meant the words, and that the myriad of emotions that welled within his cobalt gaze was sincere. The reason why the words he sputtered did not carry the weight they might have otherwise is was because of her own actions. How could she accept an apology, or feel any ill will toward him, when she had done the same thing herself? Just like Baldur, Lessa had removed herself from the world she had known, hiding in the depths of the higher floors, and the crowded streets of the lower ones. This pattern allowed her to avoid old acquaintances for a full year. So how could she possibly act as if she forgave him, when she had never blamed him from the start? Rather than attempting to find a proper response, she ignored his words all together.

What she could not ignore, however, was his request for help. The sudden shift in tone hardened her features, removing the smile that had begun to warm them. "What do you need?" she asked him.

[Baldur 0]

Baldur was almost taken back by just how... Lessa... that reaction was. She had ignored everything that had happened. A friend needed help, and to Lessa, that was enough. She was one of those rare individuals. He almost felt bad. He knew that if he came to her and asked her for help, that she would give it gladly and without question. It felt a bit manipulative, but it was also why he came to her first. He knew that he could. He knew that if he asked, she would be there for him, and that he would have done the same for her if their position had been reversed.

"Lessa I..." This was a game. Why would his throat feel so raw? Or was it just imagined. Was this his mind reacting this way because asking for help was just so hard for him. Getting the words out, it seemed to him, was much more difficult than finding them.

He was once a proud warrior. He had been on the verge of joining the progression team and clearing floor bosses. His pride had been their downfall. They had seemed invincible, like they could take on any challenge. 100 floors? No problem.

But there was so much more going on. How could he explain it to her, when he didn't even understand it himself; when he couldn't even bring himself to think about what had happened. And with that he pinched his eyes shut for a moment as if he could prevent those emotions from entering him through his eyes.

And with that one simple action, his body language changed. He took a long, deep, steadying breath. His shoulders moved back and he stood straight up. He took another breath, and then slowly opened his eyes.

"I - I can't do this alone." He let the phrase linger in the air. His stance was firm. Solid. Immovable, but his eyes... his blue eyes were a whirl of contradictions; they were strong, and intense, and determined; his eyes also showed a sadness, and pleaded with her not to question what he meant.

"I need to move forward, but I have lost... I have lost my fire. I... I want to move forward, but I can't bring myself to..." he looked down at his hand holding on to the leather wrapping of the katana's handle. He couldn't bring himself to say it. I can't even draw my sword.

"I need you. My mentor... my friend."

[Lessa 1]

Much to her dismay, the blonde witnessed the complete breakdown of a boy who had been nothing but steadfast. Try as she may, in that moment, she could not remember a single time when happiness had not painted Baldur's expression with a warm, contagious light; his smile had been unwavering, just as hers had been once before. And like a moth to a flame, Baldur's optimism, hope, and love of life had drawn her in. And for a while, she had believed it all. Perhaps that explained why his disappearance had left such a mark on the Guardian. And why, as she watched his armor crack and his walls tumble down around them, her heart crumbled as well.

"Baldur," she breathed, the words hot against the chill that hung nearly as heavy as her sudden sense of dread. It had been a long time since the need for physical contact had gripped her, but just then, she found it impossible to resist. Alyssa would have pulled the broken boy into a tight hug, but Lessa reached out a bare hand, and laid it gently against arm. With a gentle squeeze, she added, "you don't have to be alone. You're not alone." Now the words tumbled from her lips like water from a cracked dam, untamed and unwanted, and it felt like someone else was saying them. "I'm here." 

His head hung pitifully, and his gaze never wavered from her boots. Her frown grew deeper as she watched him in silence. When she worried that she had come on too strong, she continued. "You're not alone in how you feel, either. I know how it feels to be stuck. I've-" she hesitated, before deciding to come out and admit it to both of them, "-been stuck too. For a long, long time now."

[Baldur 0]

"Baldur, you don't have to be alone. You're not alone. I'm here."

At the touch of Lessa's hand, Baldur felt warmth radiate out through his arm, and yet ice ran down his spine. It was terrible of him to place his burden on her, but there is no one else he could turn to. No one else he would turn to. He knew she would understand. He knew she carried such a burden herself. Was it cruel of him to do this to her? He had told himself that maybe it would help her too, but if he couldn't even carry his own, how could he be a friend to her? But the touch of her hand was more reassurance than he had had in a year. It was the sum total of all physical contact he had had in a year, even though it was digital it held power. He might never know who was wearing the NerveGear, but in here, she was his friend, and he was hers. That was real, and yet he still could not bring himself to look her in the eyes. That cold ice running down his spine paralyzed him.

"You're not alone in how you feel, either. I know how it feels to be stuck. I've-" She hesitated for a moment "-been stuck too. For a long, long time now." He found her words confusing. He understood them, but he didn't understand how they made him feel. He stood a head taller, yet he felt smaller than her. Her words came out awkwardly, but they had a depth to them that he could only imagine. Just how long had she been hurting, and he... nor anyone really, been there for her? No, he had known she was hurt, but perhaps he hadn't really understood it? Perhaps Baldur had just never experienced the depth to which she felt it until now.

He felt stiff. The ice was gone, but his entire body seemed to not want to move. It felt like a tremendous task to raise his arms, and he moved like some sort of emotionless robot; a robot who would have cried had he any tears left to shed.

He raised his powerful arms and wrapped them around Lessa. He pulled her close to him. He put his head on her shoulder and for the first time in a year; he cried.

Edited February 23, 2016 by Baldur

[Lessa 1]

Though he had no words to offer her, what Baldur did next left the woman speechless. A soft gasp escaped her as his arms snaked around her body, and pulled her closer. The embrace was only the second that she had received since donning the Nerve Gear, and the sheer weight of it ignited a whirlwind of emotions that Lessa found herself struggling to sort through.

Fear, that she might lose another the way she had lost so many before.

Regret, for not saying the words that had perched on the tip of her tongue for far too long.

Guilt, for piling herself with self loathing and pity for far longer than she would care to admit. 

And an overwhelming loneliness, so suffocating in its mass that she suddenly could not catch her breath. Her body trembled against his as she fought to control the enormous wave that threatened to drown her. For so long, she had existed without feeling. She had buried each emotion, good or bad, and forged on alone. That, she had assured herself, was the secret to staying alive. That was how she would live through the nightmare that was Sword Art Online. But was that living at all? And now, another player stood before her, baring his soul, and putting it all on the table. It was a display that shook her to the core, though she wished that it did not.This was his time to mourn, not hers.

Yet as he pressed his forehead to the crook of her neck, the tears he had held for so long finally wetting her bare skin, she felt a strangled sob of her own form in the back of her throat. Her jaw clenched as she fought the urge to mimic his outburst, but when she finally pressed her face against her companion's dark hair, her cheeks were damp as well.

 

Edited February 25, 2016 by Lessa

[Baldur 0]

In some corner of his mind, Baldur was embarrassed to be crying in public; but right now that corner wasn't allowed to voice its opinion. In another corner of his mind, he felt ashamed to be burdening his friend with something that he should be able to handle himself; but that corner had been hushed. A third corner of his mind told him to stop crying and man up; he shouldn't have tears, he needed to stand up, press on, and stop worrying about feelings. It said that the way to handle this stuff was to bury, and to think logically and critically, and ignore the pain - it wasn't productive; but that corner was paid no attention. The forth corner just felt awkward.

Then he felt Lessa tremble in his arms.

It was a complicated feeling.There had been a moment where she seemed to hesitate; she didn't try to push him away, but rather tried to keep herself from being swept away. There was a moment where they both felt alone; he seeking a connection, and she afraid of one.

And then she trembled.

He had been afraid he couldn't cry anymore; she had been afraid she would.The two of them had been lost in different seas of emotion and presence of mind, but suddenly in this storm of his emotions they crashed together as his tears fell upon her shoulder. He had embraced her, hesitantly at first. Gentle yet strong arms pulled her to him, but now those hands grabbed at her shoulders, she would let go of him as he cried into her neck. It had begun as tears, but ended in undignified sobs. No words were exchanged, but the rattle in his chest communicated more than words could have. 

And then she trembled.

It took Baldur a minute to realize that is wasn't his tears streaming down the left side of his cheek where it was pressed to hers, but that they were Lessa's. That the strangled sob which seemed to echo his own was not in his heart, but in his friend's. He felt it then, that she was holding onto him as tightly as he to hers. That the cork she had placed on her own emotions had been ripped away by his tears. Something inside of him fundamentally changed in that moment's realization. He wasn't alone anymore. She understood, or maybe on a deeper level he understood. They were kindred spirits, both hurt, both alone, both adrift, but now they were none of those things. The tears didn't come any slower, but the grip he had on her became less about needing her to give him strength, and more about compassion. He still felt overwhelmed, but he felt like now there was someone who understood, and that was somehow enough to be able to deal with it.

He held her for a long time. At some point they had ended up on their knees in front of that little bench, crying on each other's shoulders.

But now they cried together, instead of alone.

Baldur had no idea how much time had passed. He had expected people to spurn a show of emotion, but instead everyone seemed to find it too awkward to look at and so they had been left at peace. He drew in a deep, ragged breath, his throat felt raw again, even though he knew that it was all in his head. He tried to laugh; he didn't know what else to do, how else to address the situation they found themselves. in.

"I'm sorry." They were the only words he could think of. The other corners tried to take advantage of the silence to voice there opinions, but something in her big, deep blue eyes silenced them.

"Thank you... I... I needed that, Lessa."

Normally he would have expected himself to feel drained, but instead he felt.... balanced.

He smiled, shyly, at his friend.

[Lessa 1]

"[censored]." Her response was certainly not among the most dignified things she could have said, especially considering the situation that the pair found themselves in. But just as Alyssa had had a vocabulary to make a sailor blush, Lessa found herself resorting to her old ways. She muttered the word into the sleeve of her coat as she gracelessly raked it across her tear stained cheeks. Coated in salt, snot, and god-knows-what-else was not the state that the girl had wanted to ever show herself, especially in front of someone who had considered her a mentor. She imagined it was a bit like witnessing a parent crying for the first time. Surely, it did nothing for her image, and perhaps it even degraded her in his eyes. But the wide, red-rimmed gaze that she found mirrored her own, and so maybe, that was okay for the moment. Maybe her display of weakness could be left there, in the cold air of the seventh floor, in a town lit by green light. Like some screwed up Emerald City, the girl would find herself musing later.

Climbing to her feet, Lessa finally answered the comment that she had left hanging. "Don't thank me. There's no reason to." It isn't like I did anything. But the gentle smile that Baldur offered her suggested otherwise. It seemed the hard cry had been the therapy he had needed. She was thankful that he felt better after it. She wondered what she was supposed to be feeling. "Anyway, its a bit chilly out here if we stay in one place." Extending a hand to her friend, she asked, "would you want to walk for a bit?"

[Baldur 0]

At first Baldur was shocked by how Lessa suddenly seemed to make a 180. It made him feel embarrassed, and self-aware, and only gave voice to those corners in his mind, in particular the one saying his was a burden on his friends. He didn't know how to act for a moment, or what to do, but then he saw it. Baldur noticed the slight red puffiness around her eyes, he saw her dabbing at it with her sleeve and a slight embarrassed cast to her hoping he didn't notice what she was doing. She was trying to be strong for him, because he needed her to be. He thought about saying something, but she seemed embarrassed about crying in front of him. He was only more convinced of this when she told him there was no reason to thank her. Baldur felt that he would have done and said the same in her place.

Taking her hand, he accepted her help in standing. He was a bit uneasy for a moment, his head still somewhat light from the tears, but he nodded his head at her question. "A walk sounds like a great way to clear my head."

He started off towards the edge of the village where they could get a better view of the floor. As a force of habit, he walked on Lessa's left; his left hand rested casually on his sword and his right arm offered without even realizing what he was doing.

"You know, this and the 4th floor are probably my favorite places to.... get away."

[Lessa 1]

That arm that he offered was not for her. Lessa merely stared at it for a few seconds. In that moment, perhaps it was. But at the same time, she knew that there was someone else who should be linked to Baldur. Someone who she had not seen a trace of in a year. Someone whose absence hung heavy around them, an elephant in the their theoretical room. He had not mentioned her, but the blonde knew she was on his mind. Love was not so easily wiped from memory, though she had wished on many occasions that it was. Maybe his tears were not shed for her, but she was there nonetheless, in the back of his mind. No, Tyger was no longer a staple in her friend's life. If she had been, the dark haired man would have mentioned her by now. The fact that her name was not even uttered suggested something had happened.

She wouldn't ask; she had more class than that. Out of respect for her friend, she did not ask about Tyger. And out of respect for her friend, she snaked her arm through his. "The fourth floor has always been my favorite too," she replied softly. "I spend a lot of time there. But I don't know this floor too well."

[Baldur 0]

Baldur hadn't, consciously, realized what he had done, and for a moment he wasn't surprised when he felt a comfortable touch on his arm. It was normal, to him, to feel a familiar touch on his arm as they walked through the emerald light of the city and towards the exit of the town. He wanted to see sky. It was so strange that he had gotten used to not seeing it, but some floors seemed taller than others, and allowed for better views to the side where you could see the sky and clouds stretch for miles. This floor also included mountains similar to where he had lived as a child. It was comforting to him.

But he hadn't been touched in a year. He hadn't had that comfortable wait, and so for a moment, when he realized Lessa had taken his offered arm; he blushed. A wave of emotions whirled through him, but for the first time in a long time, he wasn't overcome by them. His sadness muscle had finally fatigued, and it was as if the others were given a chance to breath and stretch their legs after being crammed away for too long.

"I got lost here once... well... in the mountains and valleys. I was pushing the floors, and stretching my legs to see what I was capable of. I got overwhelmed and had to make a run for it. Dios mio, that was a long time ago."

He wanted to just enjoy the world around them, but there was something else he had to get off of his chest.

"Lessa I..." He hated to pull the mood back down, but he had to say it. "I've come to realize that there is no safety here. That the only way that... some people are going to be able to be saved... that... he... will be stopped, is to finish this dungeon. I thought I had learned that lesson before, but I know it now. I want to step up and do my part. I need to get back to the front line and help complete this accursed quest."

Baldur was intentionally looking forward, more so figuratively than literally, but his path was blissfully clear of obstacles at the moment.

"But I haven't been able to fight. I can't bring myself to draw my sword." When they were outside the city, surrounded by the mountains and the sky and the underbelly of the floor above them with no players or NPCs nearby, he looked at her. His left hand left his sword and he put it over hers to after he expected her to recoil.

"My name is Jason Weaver, and I plan to make it out of this god forsaken castle, but if anything should happen to me... I want someone to know, someone to be able to tell my family how I lived, and that I fought with honor."

[Lessa 1]

He slowed, and so did she, but her mind continued to race. The boy had aroused so many emotions within her, just as he had only moments earlier in front of the bench. But there were a few stark differences between that experience and this one. Then, the feeling that had emerged victorious had been sadness. She had wept alongside him, her face buried in his hair, her arms clinging to him in a momentary loss of control. This time, that control remained in-tact, and no tears pressed at the backs of her blue eyes. On the contrary, she felt far less vulnerable than she had before. Now, mingling with the sorrow, fear, and dread, she felt a sort of hard determination. It ran white-hot within her, the same way that it had when she had defended her brothers in front of her parents, or a student in front of an administrator. It was an urge to protect them, and see them stand tall after spending so much time on their knees. They hadn't deserved the hardships that they had faced. Neither did Baldur. Neither did she.

"Jason." The name felt so foreign, but she spoke it with fierce clarity. "You're getting ahead of yourself." Her voice was stern, though the look in her eyes assured him that she appreciated his grit. "You don't need to jump back to the front lines. Take some time to get back up to speed. A lot has changed in the last year. We'll work on it together, alright?"

Her gaze dropped to his hand, which cupped hers gently. "Nothing is going to happen to you." Whether she added the last bit for his benefit, or for hers, was not entirely clear. Later, she would go on to wonder who it was that she was trying to convince.

[Baldur 0]

"Jason. You're getting ahead of yourself." Her voice was stern, though the look in her eyes assured him that she appreciated his grit. 

"You don't need to jump back to the front lines. Take some time to get back up to speed. A lot has changed in the last year. We'll work on it together, alright?"

He felt touched that she was worried about him. He shouldn't feel surprised by it; Baldur had come to Lessa because he knew she was a friend that he could trust. He had many other friends as well, that he would start to reach out to when he had more courage stockpiled up once more.

"I look forward to it... I'm... pretty rusty right now."

 "Nothing is going to happen to you." 

His breath caught for a moment, and he settled his blue eyes on hers. Hers were a rich, deep color of blue he had always been jealous of. His were a more steel, grey blue color.

"I promise you Lessa: When we both make it out of this alive, I am going to find you, and we're gonna celebrate together. Lord knows we'll need some sort of support group to have to figure out how to live in the normal world again. Sometimes... Sometimes it feels like I've always been here. And then I see a green diamond pop up over someone's head and I'm reminded this is all some kind of horrible game."

His blue eyes finally broke from hers and surveyed the view before them. Not only was it magnificent, but it was impossible in the real world. There were plateaus that looked like sprouted out of flower steps. Endless waterfalls from pools that had no source. There was an alien beauty to this castle that was impossible in the real world, but perhaps even more compelling because of it. The beauty and the pain combined into something so... compelling. He wondered if he should feel bad for loving this world, even though it trapped him in it - was that so different from the real world?

He squeezed her her softly as she continued to leave it wound through his offered arm.

[Lessa 1]

His hand rest atop hers, and she made no move to readjust it. There was a strange comfort that came from standing so close to someone. From feeling their skin against your own. From knowing that, for a moment, you could simply exist alongside that person. And nothing else mattered. It was a sensation that Lessa had forgotten about. And as she stood there, the air cold against the warmth on her cheeks, she let her eyes slip closed. Baldur could survey their surroundings, but she did not wish to. Occasionally, she caught herself admiring the beauty of the game. Even though she hated Aincrad with every ounce of her being, sometimes it was unavoidable. But in that moment, it wasn't the mountains and the waterfalls that she found beauty in.

"A celebration, huh?" Her eyes finally opened once more, and she followed his gaze across the dark countryside. "I'd like that. I think I need something to celebrate." A small ghost of a sigh escaped her, before she added, "though I don't know if I could ever be truly normal again. I mean, after all of this. I want so badly to go back. That's all I want. But how can I live the same life I did before? This place, Baldur." In unison, her eyes and her tone darkened. "This place has messed me up."

[Baldur 0]

Baldur, without looking at her, squeezed her hand softly. "Me too."

In the distance, he could begin to see the sun was setting on this floor. At the very edge of the floor a small mountain range rose up, and the sun seemed to just hover above it for a long time. The floor above, if you squinted, could almost look like clouds as the amber light poured in through the side of the floor. The wind rushed up the mountains towards them and blew back Baldur's shaggy brown hair.

"Some are born great; some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." His voice was a bit softer, as if he was speaking to himself, but in such a way that she could hear the musings of his mind.

"We didn't get to choose this situation we find ourselves it; our agency in life was robbed from us in that respect, but we do have the chance to rise to meet the challenge. I... forgot that. I felt hopeless, and powerless..." his hand seemed to shake as he spoke to her, "I felt like it didn't matter any more what happened to me. I didn't care anymore."

He took a deep, steadying breath as he watched the setting sun.

"But then I saw something... and it reminded me that there were other people who didn't feel this way yet. People on the outside that must still be hoping. Hoping that someone, or that all of us, would fight through this. We might as well be in a coma as far as they're concerned, but they're praying every day that we fight and that we come back to them."

Baldur swallowed and wet his lips and closed his eyes for a long moment as if to steady himself.

"I will fight for them. 'Death is light as a feather; duty is heavy as a mountain.'"

[Lessa 1]

"We'll get back to them." Her words, though simple, carried the same chill as the air that surrounded them. Her eyes and her features were hard as they turned toward the dying sunlight. Briefly, Lessa found herself wondering if the time in SAO ever matched up with the outside world. Was her family watching the day end the same way she was? Did they feel the approaching dusk on their faces the same way that she did? Slowly, she let her eyes drift closed. And did they feel the same way? The despair, the confusion, and the fear? Or had those emotions left them, after the years that had passed?

Did they want her back, more than anything else in the world? Would they do anything to save her from the virtual hell? Because that was how she felt. To see their faces, even one more time, was her sole motivation now. Once, she had drawn strength from those around her. She had grown comfortable in Aincrad, and she had even enjoyed herself. But then, one morning, she realized that she could not remember the sound of her Dad's voice. And then she forgot the smell of the Carmex she always associated with her Mom. And finally, she found it difficult to make out her brothers' faces anymore. And that was when she realized what was truly important.

Lessa clung a bit tighter to Baldur, and in doing so, she felt that he was also unsteady. Maybe he understands. "That's all that matters anymore."

[Baldur 0]

Baldur felt Lessa lean on him, and for a moment they supported each other... be he felt a chill in Lessa's voice, and an iron in her energy that seemed to grow counter to the warm sunlight that usually radiated out of her. She was right, they had to fight for the people on the outside, that was the most important thing, wasn't it? They certainly had nothing left to fight here for, but there was still something that could be salvaged on the outside world. Baldur caught himself in that moment. Was Lessa right? Was he expecting the world to go back to the way it was? They had been changed, fundamentally, and in ways no one would understand. Two years had passed by now, hadn't their families moved on by now? Isn't that what he would want, rather than them wasting two years of their lives to this game too?

"No." Baldur said weakly at first, but then his voice grew bolder and he repeated the word.

"No we can't say that. Getting out of here and seeing them isn't enough." Something welled up inside of him, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He put his left hand on his forehead as if he were trying to remember something, to think of some dull and distant memory. Hope - that is what he was supposed to bring. Baldur of was the god of light in the darkness, music in the cold, justice in the wild. He had chosen that name to emulate hope. Surviving just wasn't enough.

And then it hit him like a sack of bricks, he turned to Lessa and took a deep breath, trying to draw strength and courage.

"The wisest man I know once said something like... In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself... that that was the meaning of inner strength." He looked down at her, his blue eyes pleading for her to understand his meaning, "We can't just say that surviving is enough, we can't just say that winning is enough, if we lose who we are... who we were. If we want to triumph, if we want to reclaim what was taken from us, then we have to do so while staying true to who we are, we can't give in to despair..."