Gilder > Fan Stuff
Reading fanfiction.
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Heh heh... forgot to say this last time... In the end credits of the gamecube version, it says that Drachma died a few months after the battles at soltis. I didn't feel like going into detail about it right then.
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"I can't believe it! We couldn't find him!"

"I know, it's so annoying. How is he always able to slip through our fingers like that?"

"We'll get him next time, that's for sure!"

Clara laughed as she entered the dining area of the house; her crewmembers were sprawled on the floor in various positions, arguing about their inability to find the captain of the Claudia. She slipped through them as quickly as possible, not wanting to get pulled into the conversation. Entering the kitchen, she went through a door on her right and up the stairs to reach her bedroom.

Once inside, she lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

--I never let anyone come up here because it seems too 'against' my personality. Herd to believe that it actually was for so many years of my life...--

Rather than being decorated with pink, hearts and pictures of Gilder, as was expected, it was white, beige and light yellow with dark brown accents, and a mural of the jungles of Horteka was painted on one of the walls.

--Nobody would believe that this was my room.--

She got up with a slight smile on her face and walked over to the window seat. As she sat in it, her smile turned to silent tears.

--Was it my fault, or his? It destroyed both of our lives, and we're still trying our best to repair them... But it looks like his repairs are breaking. He's been acting... differently... and it worries me.--

As the day ended and the buildings were bathed in a peaceful red glow, her eyelids slid shut, her dreams influence by her past.

/dream sequence/
I was in a dark, misty forest, the little light filtering through the treetops being absorbed by the mist, curling around my ankles as I walked. There was no sound, not even of my footsteps, though I could feel twigs breaking under my feet.

I reached a clearing full of night-blooming flowers, their gentle fragrance almost putting me into a trance-like state. I didn't care about where I was, why I was here or what was going on. I continued to walk, reaching the center of the clearing. A large tree grew here, a maple, but with white bark. Disregarding the color difference, I climbed, and once at the top, I could see for miles.

The forest was a hexagonal shape, with stone walls dividing it into seven areas; six on the outside, and one in the center, the one which I was in. The moon shone above, casting an eerie silver light about.

A nightingale flew by my face, having been perched unnoticed on the branch above me. As it glided towards one of the outer sections, it began to sing its beautiful, sad song, and the moon began to change color.

Reaching its destination, the bird settled on what had been a white maple like mine, now turned red by the moon's light. From out of nowhere, a golden bolt of lightning streaked through the sky, striking the tree of the bird. No flames came, but sap began to pour down the tree, a deep crimson color, like blood. The nightingale had long ceased to sing, and was now laying dead on its perch, the crimson sap running over its body and carrying it to the ground.
/end dream sequence/

Clara woke up in a cold sweat, and grabbed a nearby blanket. She wrapped it around herself, shivering.

--That dream... it's too close to what happened... too close...--

Looking out the window, the red moon was high in the sky, as if it was taunting her. Angrily, she shut the curtains and went downstairs to get some food.