Koriandr
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Joined: 8/2/2006
Country: United States
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Part II - Have fun reading the equivalent of 44 pages in 10 Arial font. Thanks to Cori for betaing.
---===
Corilinos awoke, startled.
He felt a soft bed underneath him, the feathers seemed to melt away his pain. His vision blurred slightly but a few blinks made the picture clearer.
It was all a nightmare!
He was home…
He suddenly gave a grin that split his face. Home! It felt so good. All that traveling, he needed a break and he found it. In his own town, his own home, his own bed. Corilinos fell back against the mattress and gave a deep sigh, breathing in the smoky wood that supported the bed. He missed that smell. Lately, all it was, was smoke and trash from Jeuno. He didn’t mind the big city but it got on his nerves sometimes and needed a breath of fresh air once in a while.
But San’Doria! He could never hate that smell.
There was a slight knock on his door and he accepted the visitor to come in. His eyes widened as his mother stepped through, carrying a bowl of water.
“C’mon, honey. Staying in bed all day is bad for you. You have to move those joints, get that blood flowing!” She gave a wisp of a smile on her tan face, her black hair falling down to her shoulders but tucked behind her pointed ears.
“Y-yeah.” Was all he could say, his eyes never leaving his mother.
“I’m glad you agree. Now here, some water to wash your face with. Don’t take to long, your father wants to talk to you when you’re finished.” She seemed suddenly giddy and wished her son a good day before closing the door for privacy for him to change.
Corilinos let his eyes linger for a few more moments on the door his mother exited out of. How long had it been since he had last seen her? Almost a couple of years and he suddenly felt shameful. He really should’ve visited more often, but it didn’t seem like she minded now. Taking her heed, he splashed some water on his face and instantly felt better, more awake. Rubbing off the water with the towel she left, he reached over to strap on his clothes, but found something in a different material than he was hoping for.
Looking at the cloth in his arms, he wondered if his parents had taken his armor to get washed. Indeed, it did need a little cleaning but wouldn’t his mother say something?
He shrugged, at least he still had his Great Katana…
…Or not.
Frantically looking around, he couldn’t find his weapon. Maybe his parents took it to get it sharpened? He could only wish.
His thoughts were startled by a slight knocking.
“Just a moment!” He said and changed from his sleepwear to the clothes given to him in record time.
“Honey, are you ready? Your father is waiting!”
“Yeah, I’m done. I’ll be down in a minute.” He opened to door to face his mother who smiled up at him.
“That’s a good boy. Now come on down, breakfast is getting cold.”
“Hey mom, wait.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what happened to my Samurai stuff?”
He was not expecting the look she gave him. It was one of utter confusion but soon turned into a smile.
“Oh, don’t be so silly. You’re not a Samurai! You’re a merchant, just like your father!”
“I’m a…what?” Corilinos’ heart stopped for a moment. He had remembered that he left home in the first place to become an Adventurer because he didn’t want to be a boring merchant.
Were…all of his memories…just dreams too?
“A merchant. Now come.” She turned around and walked down the rest of the stairs as Corilinos soon snapped out of it and followed her down.
As soon as he entered the living room, he could smell breakfast consisting of eggs and spiced bread waft through his senses. Oh, how he dreamed of having one of his mothers breakfasts again!
He greeted his father at the kitchen table, who only grunted in return as he looked over strewn papers in front of him. His orange hair, the kind Corilinos had inherited, and bulky figure sat quietly for a few more minutes. Corilinos really didn’t know what to say to his father, it had always been a mutual relationship, knowing how the other felt without talking, but this time, Corilinos felt like he needed to say something.
“So, uh, dad. How are the, um…trades today?”
His father looked up momentarily before going back to his papers as he replied, “Good, good. Wood isn’t selling as fast as it should. Adventurers are selling them too high, blasted people. You’ve made me proud the day you decided to turn down that application.”
Corilinos felt his stomach drop. So, it was true. He wasn’t an Adventurer. It really was a dream.
“O-oh…” He suddenly felt a whole lot meeker.
The tension was interrupted though when a plate of breakfast was placed in front of him. Suddenly realizing just how hungry he was, he tore into it, savoring every single bite that entered his mouth and slid down his throat.
“Well, it looks like someone was hungry.”
Corilinos could only look up at her, manage a mouthful of food smile and nod vigorously. She could only beam at him and leave to tend to the dishes.
As he was wiping the last of the eggs yolk with a piece of bread off of his plate, his father put down his papers and gave a stern look at him, telling him to hurry up because he had something to say. Corilinos wiped his mouth with the napkin and swallowed, finished.
“Son,” he started, “There comes a time when taking the initiative is the only way to get ahead in life. That’s why, you’re going to take it today and make me even more proud than I am right now.”
He reached into his pocket and took out a box that he handed over to Corilinos. Corilinos took it and peeked inside. As soon as he saw what it was he slammed the top shut and blushed.
“A…A ring.”
His father smiled. “That’s right. You two have been in love ever since you met. I won’t be able to tend to this job any longer and I think you know enough how to run in my stead. With an honest women by your side, you can do no wrong.”
A million thoughts rushed by Corilinos’ mind. Marriage? Merchanting? Love? Who did he love? Was it an Elvaan? He didn’t remember any Elvaans other than friends that he could fall in love with. He knew his father didn’t approve of racial mixing. What was he going to do? What if he couldn’t pop the question?
“Corilinos!” He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his mother who was calling his name.
“She’s here!”
Corilinos could only blush deeper as he could feel his stomach do flip flops. He got up and quickly put his box in a satchel his mother gave him to sling across his body. Bending down to receive a quick peck on the cheek, he gave a weak smile and headed for the door. As soon as he was about to touch the doorknob, there was a slight knock and he froze.
This was a person who he was supposed to be in love with. So why was he struck with foreboding fear? He opened to door as the knocking came again and his breath caught in his throat.
“Al…Alesha…?”
---===
Miraa awoke, confused.
She put a hand to her forehead and sighed. Her fur clung together from the moist air around her as she swung in her hammock. She had had the worst nightmare that she could ever remember. The memory caused her to scoff. Her…a Paladin? She was scared of even being close to a Dark Knight and yet…
In her dreams…
She shook her head. No, no, she was safe now. In her village. A Scavenger, no less. One of the best titles to be given a Mithran in their village. It meant she was head of the gathering committee that went out and fetched such things like berries, meat, water and ferns for medicine. There was nothing scary about the jungle here. They had warriors to protect them as they went on their gathering days. She didn’t have to fight. She didn’t have to get hurt…
She didn’t have the ability to protect anymore…
NO! Miraa gripped the sides of her head together. She would not think about that horrid dream again! She was happy here! Happy!
“I’m [i]happy[/i], damn it!”
“Well, that’s good to know.”
Miraa, startled, almost fell out of her hammock and she looked over at her doorway to see an orange haired Mithran leaning against the doorframe. A name suddenly flew to the front of her mind.
“Ki-Kilikina!”
The Mithran rolled her eyes and gave a mock bow, “That’s still what they call me nowadays.”
Miraa climbed out of her bed and pattered over to her friend, who went back to leaning on the frame. She stared at her friend who was decked out in loose chain mail, a sword in a scabbard hung loosely at her side.
“What…what are you all dressed up for? Is there a skirmish going on?”
Miraa received two hard knocks on her head, “No dummy, today’s a Gathering Day. We’re waiting on you! Hurry up!” She grasped Miraa’s shoulders, spun her around and pushed her towards her armoire. “I’ll be outside when you’re done.”
Miraa could only nod to herself and look over her shoulder. It had been so long since…she had seen Kilikina. Her best friend. Miraa gasped a little, holding back a few tears. She hadn’t seen her friends since she left to be an Adventurer. No, wait. She never left…so why was she crying? Once more, shaking her head, the Mithran opened up the armoire to see loose leather clothes, a water skin and a pack for her gathering. She wondered what kind they would be doing today, she liked berries the best because she could always eat her fill and there would still be abundance for the village.
Quickly changing into her clothes, she raked her hair with her claws in a form of combing and stepped outside, Kilikina this time hanging right outside the door against the wall.
“You ready, Kokomo?”
Miraa grinned and felt a sudden elation within her. She hadn’t been called her nickname since…well…could it have been just yesterday?
“Let’s go!” Miraa stepped forward but was suddenly jerked back by Kilikina.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. There’s somewhere you need to go first. The Chieftess wants to have a special word with you.” Kilikina gave a wry, teasing grin as Miraa’s eyes opened in disbelief.
“An audience? Really?”
“You better hurry, she’s not a patient Mithran, remember?” Kilikina shoved her friend forward and chased her for a few steps, causing Miraa to laugh and start running towards the Chieftess’s hut.
As she neared it, however, a sense of foreboding fear shivered across her sense of being. The Chieftess was not a fearful character, she was just impatient. So why were the hairs standing on her neck?
She quickly descended into a fast walk and then stopped before the large hut, decorated with pelts, beads and feathers. She announced herself to the guards standing on either side of the door. One of them slipped in and out, finally gesturing for Miraa to go in. With a quick flash of a smile to the both of them, she entered and quickly sat on her legs, hands on the ground and head bent in respect.
“You have called me and I am here, Chieftess. What can I do to help the clan.”
There was a moment of silence before the Chieftess said, “Rise.”
Miraa did so and waited patiently for more instructions.
“Miraa, you have done well with our clan, and have always served everyone with respect. The title of Scavenger barely comes up to what loyalty you have shown our village.”
Miraa felt her face blush but was able to remain stoic.
“I am happy the day you decided to leave alone those pesky Adventurers and continue to live here, with us. You have been a shining beacon to the other clans and a role model to our young ones. Therefore,” The Chieftess stood up and walked over to where Miraa stood. Standing almost over a head taller, the Chieftess was an imposing figure if you didn’t know her personally. She reached down and unbuckled a necklace from around herself, “I will reward you. From Scavenger to Personal Advisor. You will be remembered as one whom I looked for, for advice and who will never falter to tell the truth. For now, you will continue to be the Scavenger until I appoint a successor. Until then…Congratulations.”
Miraa felt the thick beaded necklace being tied around her own neck and then felt the slight weight as it was finished. She looked up, smiling, but then faltered a little bit as she could see a struggle in the Chieftess’s eyes. Noticing the smaller Mithran study her, the Chieftess turned her back and headed to sit down again.
“Today, you will be gathering Ferns and some berries. If what I can remember is true, they are relatively close to each other so making one trip instead of two would be better. However, the time will take longer, though, I doubt that’s any hassle.”
“No, Chieftess.” Miraa replied.
“Good, dismissed.”
Miraa bowed deeply and had to remind herself not to burst out of the hut at full speed. How exciting! Everything Miraa could wish for! Home, friends and respect! Wow! She could hardly contain her joy until she ran into a figure and fell down on her rear.
“Ow…”
“You dummy, here.” Miraa took the hand offered by Kilikina and was forcefully pulled to her feet. By no match was Miraa equal to Kilikina’s strength, that was why she was the warrior and herself the Scavenger…no, Personal Advisor!
“Kokomo…” Miraa looked at the finger pointing to her neck and she grasped the necklace in earnest.
“Oh, Kilikina! The Chieftess has made me her Personal Advisor! Isn’t that great!”
“Oh, uh, yeah!” Kilikina forced a smile a little too hard and Miraa put it off as jealousy.
“Hey, can I see it for just a few minutes?” She started to reach for the necklace but Miraa took a step back, suddenly wary.
“N-no. Sorry. It’s just, I just got it and I want to get the feel of it. I don’t mean any harm though!”
No, it’s ok. I understand.” Kilikina stood straight up and nodded, her face emotionless. Miraa felt a pang of guilt and soon followed Kilikina as she started to walk towards the edge of the clearing they lived in.
“What did she want us to gather.” Her friend’s voice was suddenly hard and stern. Miraa winced at the statement.
“Ferns and berries.” Kilikina only nodded again.
They arrived at the edge where two other gatherer’s and warriors stood, waiting. Without much conversation, they departed into the jungle.
---===
Shingen awoke, angry.
This was the second night in a row that he had that dream of darkness. Why would he ever become a Dark Knight? It’s just ridiculous! He then grinned at his internal verbal battle. No, he was fine, living by himself. He had everything that he needed! Money, status, women…
He rolled over on his silk bed, reveling in the feeling of softness personified. How he had so many women in this bed was beyond him, unless they were a little drunk, then It made the night a little more fun. A few bottles of some liquid he couldn’t identify lingered on his dresser, a few drops left. The darkness of the drink settled…it reminded him of that dream.
He lifted his head and stared at his pillow. It didn’t matter anymore; dreams were figments of imagination. They didn’t mean anything. He didn’t like that whole voodoo Black Magic crap anyway.
A soft knock on his twin bedroom doors echoed in his lavish room.
“C’mon in!” He grinned and leaned against the headboard, sitting up.
A servant entered the room, blushing at Shingen’s half nakedness, “Begging your pardon, but you have a meeting with the others from the council at noon.”
“Oh? What time is it now?”
“Eight o’clock, sir.”
“Bah, I have plenty of time. I just need a quick shower and some casual clothes.”
“Right away, sir.”
Shingen gave a one sided smile as he hopped out of bed, clad in his boxers. Stretching towards the ceiling, he worked out a couple of knots in his back thinking how his Scythe probably was giving him back problems…
Wait, what Scythe?
Damn that dream…
He hopped in the shower, feeling the cool water cascade down his back and soothing his sore muscles. He had to have been working out pretty hard for him to ache like this. It only took a few minutes for him to dress himself; nice leather slacks with a vest over an undershirt and boots to accompany. Looking quite slick, he sauntered out of his bedroom quarters and down the stairs to his breakfast room.
Lavish paintings and a large oak table accented the white room as golden candle holders and silver eatery were placed neatly on the table that was set for one. He smartly sat down and before he could make another gesture, another servant came up to him and asked what he would like to eat.
“Uh, just some lizard eggs and a glass of water would be good, thanks.”
The servant hesitated, “Eggs and water? That’s all?”
Shingen suddenly had a sharp pain in his head, “Uh, actually make that eggs, bread and some cheese and a glass of milk.”
The servant, approving of the new order, bowed and left the room.
What on Vana’diel had made him say just eggs and water? [i]Lizard eggs[/i] no less! How dreadful. Only commoners and Adventurers ate something disgusting like that. He was supposed to be refined, upper-class, poised…
So why did it all feel out of place?
He kept fighting back the urges to make sarcastic remarks. Funny antics were not allowed in high society. Even then, what was worse, was his urge to sit wrong. To slouch a leg over a chair arm and rest an elbow on the table. What was getting into him? Had he been hanging around Adventurers too much? He shook the thought from his head, no. They were there to do his little errands and in response give them pocket change, which they greedily took in their grubby hands.
As the food arrived, he politely ate and fought the ever-surging urge to scarf his food down in one big gulp. It was so good! It had seemed just like yesterday that he was able to order such fine foods. This was living the life; this is what made him happy.
After breakfast he shuffled around his mansion. If he was so happy, why was he incredible bored!
“Excuse me.” He caught the attention of a servant holding some laundry.
“What’s there to, ah, [i]do[/i] around here?”
The servant gave him a curious look but soon smiled, “Why, sir. Usually you go out on the town. Jeuno has an auction going on and you know how you like to attend those.”
“Yes, ah. Thank you.” The servant nodded and scampered off.
It took a while for realization to dawn on Shingen, but when it did; a grin split his face. He had money to blow! When he was an Advent-
Another sharp pain entered his head. Ugh, these migraines were killing him. What was he thinking about? Where was he going? Oh yes, the Auction House.
He went back to his room and collected his purse satchel, coins clinging in the process. He loved that sound more than anything but caught himself. Money was the root of all evil, but how can you frown when you wear gold on you fingers? Humming a small tune, he announced he was leaving until what looked like the Mistress of the House stood in front of him.
“And just [i]where[/i] do you think [i]you’re[/i] going?” Her elderly state betrayed her youthful energy.
“I’m going to the Auction House. Problem?”
“Yes!” She stomped her foot and then motioned for someone to come to her side. Shingen lazily looked to the side and suddenly found himself stiff.
A meek little girl walked to the Mistress’s side and bowed ever so politely.
“Asiah has been waiting for you to get up! Don’t you dare think about leaving this house without your personal assistant! What would the others think if they saw you…[i]working[/i] with your hands.”
“Asiah…” Shingen groaned as a more powerful pain entered his skull. The Mistress suddenly stopped her ranting and grew worried.
“They’re just headaches. They pass by very quickly.” He tried to smile but grimaced. The Mistress ‘humph’d’ and pushed a bag containing ferns into his hands.
“This is for those headaches then. Eat one if they come back, but don’t loose the bag! It was your fathers! Family heirlooms and all that.” She then started to usher the young lord and his servant out of the front door and unceremoniously slammed it shut.
Shingen just stood there, trying to comprehend what had happened in the past three minutes. It took a small cough for him to realize that Asiah was still beside him, ushered out in the same manner next to him and waiting for him to move. He turned his head to the side and stared at the Hume.
“Uh, sir. The Auction House will close if we don’t move.”
“Oh, uh. Right!”
He stepped forward with her right behind. The sky was a dark and murky gray; rain threatened to fall at any moment, but not in torrents. It looked more like a somber storm was coming in today. Shingen rather liked the light rains. The sun was okay, but on some days, the light it could emit was too bright for him. He liked being in a dark area where his eyes could adjust faster and match his mood. Sometimes it was too hard to be cheery like the sun.
Along the cobblestone of Jeuno, he eyed the various stores and eateries that lined the walls. He noticed the different people and their clothes, seeing that just a different version of the same vest could tell someone where they stood in line of status. Shingen was itching to turn left or right whenever an alleyway came into view, he hated crowds, but then he thought that if he ran into any trouble, he still had his servant to look after as well. So he trudged along the walkway, heading for the Ru’Lude Gardens Auction House.
Ru’Lude, by far, was the cleaner area of the four levels in Jeuno. Of course, all the embassies and even the Duchy themselves lived up here. Shingen huffed a little. White marble faced him in all direction…if only they added a little black obsidian…
“Sir.”
Shingen turned when he heard the voice behind him. Asiash was standing in front of two large double white doors with intricate art carved into them.
“Yes?”
“This…is the Auction House.” She gave a small nod towards the doors that he had passed. Shingen rubbed the back of his neck and apologized.
However, as soon as he reached the knocker on one of the doors, a fierce pain shot not only through his head, but continued down his spine, raking the nerves in his body. His own sense of being suddenly felt like all he knew was despair, anger and revenge. He also didn’t notice something being jammed into his mouth until he opened his eyes.
Finding himself on the ground, Asiah was hurriedly smashing ferns together in her hands and propping them in his mouth, massaging his throat so that he involuntarily swallowed. They tasted a bit minty but also sticky at the same time as they scratched his throat on the way down. Asiah, noticing that Shingen was aware of himself, breathed a sigh of relief. Shingen looked up at his servant and noticed a different pair of eyes bearing into him.
“Asiah…” As soon as he said her name, the eyes shifted again, back to what he had remembered of her before.
“I’m glad you’re awake. You took a nasty spill when you had your latest headache. Maybe I should hold onto your bag incase you black out again.” She made to reach for the satchel but Shingen covered it with his hand.
“No…no. I’ll be fine. Just, I think that was the worst of it.”
Asiah said nothing more and helped him up. He thanked her and when she didn’t respond, he gave her a glance, noticing her mood had turned somber. Shrugging it off, he reached up for the knocker and was ushered into the Auction House.
---===
Kastayon awoke, perturbed.
He had wondered why he was laying in a bed in a simple room when he awoke. What had happened when Pfeffer attacked him? Shouldn’t he be in Gusgen Mines? Kastayon raised a hand to his head and found he was wearing nightwear, which was odd, because he didn’t live in Bastok or have any clothes that were left in the Republic. Getting up slowly, his bed creaked under his weight, the wooden supports groaning under years of use. Kastayon moved to where his small desk was, which seemed to only have two drawers for clothing, he pulled open the top and found simple clothing.
Without a second thought, Kastayon ripped out the drawer and then did the same to the bottom drawer. The clothes were tossed mercilessly across the room, creating a mess. Kastayon didn’t stop though, he continued to his simple closet and ripped the door from its hinges, facing the small room full of chests and boxes that had assorted papers and utensils for writing in it. He didn’t mess up his room out of anger; he did it more out of surprise. He remembered this, all of this that was in his room. But it was so faded that he didn’t believe he could recall anything that had ever happened.
He was a writer, but more like a journalist and a teacher. He had research papers students had given him in the past that he still kept as sources for facts that he himself knew to be true. Kastayon was a wandering scholar and writer, and a famous one at that.
However, that was before he was an Adventurer. Before he became a Monk and started to teach in a different way. To make sure the honor of history was being represented in the most accurate terms that other scholars could tell their students, he became an Adventurer to research the true tale of Vana’Diel, and had written some pretty fascinating articles that, today, only the true thinkers will distinguish as correct. Most of the time, he was argued that he was just a simple storyteller able to weave such words into what he believed the history of the world was. These were the people who had the closed minds, who only wished to teach out of textbooks instead of going outside and experience the phenomena of life for themselves.
But, Kastayon wondered, why was he stuck in this hole? He quickly checked a calendar. Had Pfeffer sent him back in time? Had he sent the others back in time as well? The date on the calendar was the same date he had entered Gusgen Mines with his friends and that ghost boy. If today was that same day, what had happened? [i]What was going on?!?[/i]
Before Kastayon could rip his hair out, there was a subtle knock on his door. Taking two paces just to reach the other side of the room and his door, the scholar opened it and had to take a second to look down at a small TaruTaru staring right back up at him.
“Professor Kastayon?”
It took a moment for Kastayon to remember he wasn’t a Monk anymore and was a teacher. The TaruTaru with blonde hair and red highlights shifted papers in her hand. Kastayon suddenly had a recollection that this was Moyaya, one of his more promising students yet and was just a little on the shy side. He always thought that the small glasses perched on her nose were cute as he smiled at her happily.
“What can I do for you?” He walked out of his room and quickly closed the door behind him. She didn’t need to see the mess he had made of his room.
Moyaya smiled as held up a pile of papers for him. “This is the document you wanted me to write on the strange negations of energy whenever the Black Mages perform a…Magic Bomb?”
Kastayon nodded and bent down to take the papers; already he was reading the first page and could tell her information was thorough and well written.
“Magic Burst, and thank you very much. This may be clue as to why, after when an Adventurer performs a Skill Chain, a Black Mage can add the correct element and double the performance of their magic. I always thought it was the change in elements where the Skill Chain took place but then we would have to factor in the time of day, weather and the setting it took place in. Then I thought about controlled environments but I dare wouldn’t round up a number of monsters and stick them in one place while the Adventurer’s wale away on them. It would be too messy to clean up.”
The student and teacher had started to walk out of his small apartment in the Bastok Markets and were now making their way to the Bastok Mines where his classroom was located just next door to the Alchemy Guild on the second floor. Moyaya was nodding her head as Kastayon talked, absorbing everything and making her own conclusions.
“What if it was the magic of the Skill Chain that changed the monster instead? What if the Skill Chain creates some sort of energy source that coincides within the monster that, when the Black Mage releases the proper element, it reacts positively and makes a chain reaction?”
Kastayon smiled and put a finger to his chin, “That is an excellent question. Though I think the type of monster would be a factor as well. Such as the species of Crab, who are resistant to water, would a Magic Burst of Water hinder it or help it?”
Moyaya opened her mouth to reply but then gave it a second thought, seeing her own faults in her logic.
“The only thing that disappoints me is that there is no such thing as a Controlled Environment for this type of experimentation. We would have to travel the world and test our theories on each monster that we see. The time that would take…” Kastayon gave an exhausted sigh as he thought about the time implications of his conclusion.
“Why don’t you become an Adventurer?” This startled Kastayon as he looked down at the TaruTaru. He didn’t see any kind of false emotion in her eyes and Kastayon, realizing that he was an Adventurer and had somehow got caught up in his new life that he almost forgot that he had traveled the world and tested some of his theories. His heart stopped for a second…
Were his memories being erased?
“Teeeeeeeny Tiny Mojaja!” A wail came from across the bridge of the Mines as the two looked back behind them, watching a Hume male running towards them.
Moyaya’s body slumped and Kastayon frowned. Goht wasn’t one of his best students, nor one of his worst. He had an ego the size of King Behemoth and the sincerity of acid. The only redeeming feature was that he could do amazing research on the uses of weapons like how some had the beneficial bonus of Dexterity or Vitality. Kastayon was impressed since he wondered if the weapons had an effect on the magic of Vana’Diel or if Vana’Diel had an effect on the weapons.
“It’s Moyaya.” The TaruTaru mumbled out loud, though Goht chose not to listen.
“Hey, teach!” Kastayon frowned at the title. “Here’s that paper you wanted me to do on Polearms! There are a couple of interviews from Dragoons that crossed my path. Their names are in the back.” Goht stood there grinning like a fool. Kastayon just nodded and thanked him.
“So what are we learning about today teach?” Kastayon couldn’t stop twitching at that word.
“Hmm…I thought we would do something about the crystal disturbances near the Crags.” He suddenly noticed that Moyaya perked up while Goht scoffed. “Is something wrong, Goht?”
“No, no. I just thought that we could stray away from [i]magic[/i] once in a while and talk about the physical properties of equipment.”
“You can easily ask a Blacksmith and see how they work. That would be a good topic for your next paper.” Kastayon tried to feed the ego a little, knowing that Goht knew he liked his papers on the weapons.
Goht didn’t catch the bait and frowned, “Why would I want to go down into the Metalworks? It’s nasty down there and besides, who will keep Teeny Tiny Mojaja –“
“It’s Moyaya!”
“What[i]EVER[/i], Who will keep [i]Moyaya[/i] out of trouble from dabbling in the Alchemy and magic?”
There was a sharp gasp as Moyaya stepped forward, her ire raised, “I do [i]not[/i] dabble! I make sure that I am precise and [i]safe[/i]. And so what if I practice magic! Professor here even said that to know what you’re talking about, you better [i]know[/i] what you’re talking about!”
“Oh, pish” Goht waved his hand dismissively, “You just want to impress teach –“
“His name is Professor Kastayon!”
“Fine, [i]Professor Kastayon[/i]! You just want to impress him but we already know he has no favorites! Why are you trying so hard!”
Kastayon, who suddenly wondered why he was being talked about as if he was invisible, caught their attention with a gruff, ‘ENOUGH!’ and the two students fell quiet, but not without glaring daggers at each other.
“If you two need to vent to me, you can meet me after class! Right now, we’ll be late and the other students are waiting.”
Kastayon strode forward while his two pupils walked behind him. As he reached the door of his class, he could hear the chattering of people inside.
“What are you waiting for?” Goht startled him. Kastayon reached down to grab the doorknob…
And a sudden flood of despair entered his body.
---===
What Corilinos couldn’t imagine were her eyes.
She always had soft brown eyes. It was like they were pillows and when you stared into them, you couldn’t help but feel relaxed as if the world fell into place all around you. Her hair, the short brown chocolate you would want to run your hands through. The pale crème of skin that accented her facial features as you could see the shadows of her smile lingering across her cheeks.
But this wasn’t her. He didn’t remember these eyes, that hair or those shadows. She wasn’t Alesha…
“What…is going on. Who are you?”
The Hume that was standing in the doorway giggled, “I’m Alesha, silly. Who’re you?” She continued playfully.
“I-…I’m Corilinos. I’m a Samurai. This isn’t right.”
“Of course it’s not right!” A rough voice came behind him. Corilinos turned to see his father standing behind him. “You two are supposed to go out! So get! Have fun!”
“No.” Corilinos even startled himself when he spoke.
“No?”
“No. I want to know what is going on. Who she is,” he pointed to Alesha, “and why you approve of racial mixing all of a sudden! Where are my Samurai clothes and Great Katana!”
Corilinos’ father became very quiet suddenly. Corilinos because frightened on how mad he had gotten his dad, but had to remind himself that he was a fighter, a Samurai. He could twist his body to conform any situation in any battle. He was no silly merchant.
“Son…”
“It’s okay!” Alesha suddenly piped up; “I’ll take care of [i]everything[/i]!”
“Take care of what?” The father narrowed his eyes down at the Hume girl. The outburst by her made him uneasy.
Corilinos didn’t like the way she had said that last sentence and was on the balls of his feet, ready to run out at the moments of notice of danger. His father crossed his arms and jutted his chin out towards Alesha.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll have a talk with him for a second.”
“Let me do it, I’ll make sure to get the point across.”
“I am his father.”
“I am his fiancée!”
“How can that be? He hasn’t even proposed to you yet!”
The silence was so pure that one could have heard a pin drop onto a pillow.
Corilinos turned and noticed that Alesha’s eye suddenly widened for a second before furrowing back into a frown. He suddenly fingered the ring in his pocket and then wrenched his hand away. It was hot! Alesha seemed to have noticed this and diverted her attention and dove her hand in his pocket, taking out the ring.
In an instant, Corilinos was pushed to the ground as his father and Alesha wrestled for the ring beside him.
“You little [i]wench[/i]! I should have known you would interfere with my plan! Who are you [i]really[/i] so that I can kill you!”
“Corilinos! Run!”
“B-but…”
Alesha kicked the man off of her and hopped to her feet, ready for another pounce from Corilinos’ father.
“You will [i]run[/i], Cori! You need to get out of here!”
“No!” Corilinos rushed forward and stepped in front of Alesha, holding out his arms wide. He ignored the angry eyes boring into his skull from behind him and decided to talk to sense to his family first. “Dad, what’s going on!”
“Nothing that concerns you, [i]son[/i]. Now if you would please move…” He tried to step around Corilinos but the son blocked his advances at every angle.
“I won’t let this fighting go on like this. It’s stupid!”
“Corilinos, what you’re [i]doing[/i] is stup- Urk!” Alesha yelled at him until thin hands were wrapped around her neck, squeezing tight.
“Alesha!” Forgetting all about his father, Corilinos turned around and looked on in horror as his mother was slowly crushing the Hume’s neck. “Mother! What are you [i]doing[/i]!”
He never got an answer as he was tackled to the ground from behind, his father trying to bash his skull in on the San’dorian cobblestone. Corilinos bucked his father off and shoved his foot into his chest, causing his father to fall away a short distance from him and land flat on his back. He then turned towards his mother who suddenly flew over his head in the same direction. Alesha huffed and grinned, giving Corilinos a thumbs up.
Getting to his feet, Corilinos stood beside Alesha and put up his fists, “This is not a very good day to get engaged!”
Alesha rolled her eyes. “Can the jokes, they’re getting back up.”
And indeed they were, but not in a normal way. Propping themselves up, it was as if puppet strings held onto their shoulders, and legs. The limbs moved loosely as their heads lolled around on their necks. Corilinos grimaced and chuckled uneasily.
“Well, I’ve never noticed [i]that[/i] before.”
Alesha grunted. “We have to loose them. I can’t get rid of this thing otherwise.” She waved the ring in her hand for a moment before suddenly changing direction and yanking him along with her. “C’mon! We just need a little distance.”
Corilinos took heed of her words and began to run alongside Alesha. It was then that he realized that San’doria was unusually quiet. Not a soul was stirring outside, not even at the usually busy auction house. It put Corilinos on edge, like the populace was just waiting to pop out behind a corner and scare the living daylights out of him.
He took a quick glance over his shoulder and felt his stomach plummet. His ‘parents’ were only a few yards away and gaining fast. “Alesha!”
Alesha looked over her shoulder as well at Corilinos’ shout and cursed to herself. Now was not the time to get caught. “Corilinos, when I tell you to, I want you to jump forward, you got it?”
Not knowing what kind of plan she had in mind, Corilinos just voiced his agreement and continued running as Alesha sprinted off farther ahead of him and stop next to a large oak tree. He was astonished to see her pull out a long sheath from behind her back and take out a Great Katana.
“A-Alesha! Where’d you get that Great Katana?” He yelled to her. His answer was just a glare and a frown. ‘I guess now isn’t the best of times to ask why you’ve received a miracle!’ He thought.
As soon as he was a couple paces from the large tree, Alesha swiftly twitched her wrist and made two swift slices through the tree. The cuts were so clean that there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation that the blade might have encountered when cutting something so thick.
“Now, Cori! Jump!”
Corilinos noticed that the tree was leaning slowly and then falling off of its own stump right in his path! Pushing his legs just a bit faster, he made a leaping dive, barely passing under the truck of the tree as it crashed to the ground. Corilinos heard muffled shouts of anger behind him and gasped as he turned on his back. His ‘parents’ were basically right on his heels when the tree had caught them in its limbs and leaves!
He looked up to Alesha as she sheathed the Great Katana and motioned him to get up and follower her. They put in more distance between them and the imposters before she pointed ahead and both of them ducked into one of the dark alleys of San’doria.
It took a minute for Corilinos’ brain to catch up with the events. Everything was crashing down all around him and he had to sort out the facts before he continued on with whatever it was Alesha had in mind…
That’s when he turned and uttered the first thing that came to his mind.
“I should know who you are. I want to call you Alesha… but you’re not Alesha. Why can’t I remember?”
The woman leaned against the alley wall across from him, catching her breath but gave a small, sad smile.
“It’s okay not to remember. We’ve been apart from each other for a long time and I wouldn’t expect you to know who I was right off the bat. However, knowing who I am is not important right now because Amsel is searching for us and I need to get rid of this thing before we all go to hell. Literally.”
Corilinos stared at the person across from him. What he had remembered from Alesha were sharp contrasts to what he was seeing right now. The eyes were sharp, but weary. They mocked him, like they were hiding a deeper passion of pain and regret. Her hair was anything but shiny and soft. The strands were dark and course, not having an appropriate brushing in a good long time and her face was firm and lean, there were no shadows of smiles evident on her face.
Somehow against all better judgement of an Adventurer and safety, he trusted her, and, in a sudden burst of memories he could suddenly feel a redeeming feature within her. It was as if, standing beside her, he could fight any fight without worry; she would be there to protect his back.
“I believe you.” He announced and stood up straight. The women sighed with relief and nodded.
“Bend over,’ She instructed, holding out the ring between her index and thumb, “This will not come slow, this will not be easy and this will not last forever. This ring is the signifying item that is keeping you trapped in this dream. Once I break it, you only have a limited amount of time before Amsel gains control of you again. You have to fight him. You have to win.”
She placed the ring to his forehead and closed her eyes. Corilinos did the same.
“Now, discern. Are you living in a perfect life? Is this everything you wanted? Do you wish to give up your life as an Adventurer?”
Corilinos fidgeted uneasily but frowned. This life? Who would want this life of…of…[i]boredom[/i]! He was meant to do something more…he could just feel it!
“No.”
“Why.”
“Because I want to live.”
“Open.”
He heard a small clatter and looked down, the ring was broken in two and lying at his feet. He noticed the ground was gone and in its place was white. He raised his head and looked around him; everything was white he was in a White Abyss.
“Where…am I?”
“Limbo.”
Corilinos looked back at the women before him. She had on a brown cloak that hid all but her face.
“I…died?”
The women shook her head, “No, well, yes. You arrived in Limbo not by dying, but by rebirth. You [i]had[/i] died, but I did not think it was wise for a Samurai of such skill to perish by a cowardly ghost.”
She gave a sly smile and made a small gesture with her hand at him. Corilinos looked over himself. A slow grin was beginning to split his face as he noticed he had his Samurai armor back! Moving around and flexing his arms, he regained the muscle memory of having such equipment covering him. However, his weapon was missing.
“Don’t worry. Your weapon is with you, you just need to make sure you want to live, as you say.”
Corilinos suddenly felt her presence weaken and held out his hand in a halting gesture, he felt as if she was going to disappear any second.
“Wait, who [i]are[/i] you?”
A short pause.
“I am who you see but not who I am. I too lost my life to those miserable ghosts and have wandered the afterlife, looking for people like yourself and your friends to help me in my escape from this plane of existence. I took on this form because it was what your heart recognized in that dream of deceit. The person you see has to have been of some significant importance in your life. Do not forget them, for as they have passed you by in life, they have not passed by your heart.”
Corilinos stared at the women for a minute until he gave a small smile.
“Thank you.” He said and bowed.
The women began to turn and walk away, fading from his sight into the White Abyss of Limbo.
“Fight to Live, Corilinos. I’m counting on you.”
The Samurai heaved a giant sigh when he could no longer see the woman anymore. He felt a pang of guilt as he wished to remember who she was, but shook his head. Now wasn’t the time. He had to find Amsel and save his friends.
Turning around, he was nearly floored at a Hume was who grinning in his face.
“Well, it seems our little prince has awakened from his nap! Now be a good boy and just lay back down, Uncle Amsel will make everything better again.”
Corilinos took a few steps back in haste. He eyed the Hume warily and noticed a red ligature mark around its neck. Asphyxiated Amsel was his opponent.
“I’m sorry, but I live my own life.” Corilinos wondered if he had gone daft, challenging an apparition while he didn’t have a weapon.
The Hume crossed its arms and shook its head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. And here I thought it was going to be easy. Well, all right. If you insist.”
With a flick of its wrist, a smoking black Great Katana appeared in its hands and it donned the Artifact Samurai Armor. Corilinos gulped but moved his body in a defensive position while the Hume acquired an attack stance.
“Silly being! There is no way you can win without a weapon!”
“There is more than one way to solve a riddle! I will defeat you!”
“I’d like to see you [i]try[/i]!” Punctuating the last word, Amsel launched forward with three quick slashes. Corilinos dodged every one and then the two jumped back, going into their respective positions again.
“You will not survive the next onslaught!” Amsel attacked again. This time, to Corilinos’ chagrin, the apparition did not stop pushing forward. With flurrying speed, Amsel slashed and thrust its weapon at the Elvaan, who in turn received a few gashes on his thigh and arm.
It was one attack, however, that caught him off guard.
As Amsel raised its weapon in a downward slash, Corilinos quickly sidestepped, having the blade miss him by centimeters. However, as it came down across his face, time seemed to slow down considerably. In that exact moment, when the width of the Great Katana matched his eyes, Corilinos saw a vision within the smoke. It was the foreboding fear he had felt earlier in that dream. The fear had somehow taken shape in an image and Corilinos could see himself shackled in heavy chains.
The fear from his dream was his own nightmare. To live a life of a Merchant, never straying from the marked path, counting money, being…trapped.
[i]“Excuse me, Ms.”
“Hmmm?”
“May I have that application? I want to know what an Adventurer is!”
“Sure thing, kid. Here.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…What? Is something wrong?”
“Why did you become an Adventurer?”
“I got tired of one life and wanted to start another. I wanted to live again.”[/i]
He held those words with him since that day he accepted that application.
“What’s going on!” Corilinos’ thoughts were derailed as he heard Amsel’s surprised exclamation. Looking down, the Samurai found himself blocking an attack he didn’t know Amsel had launched. What was further surprising was the weapon the Elvaan wielded.
The metal of the hilt was pure gold; the wrappings were made of black silk. His blade vibrated from impact and stayed strong in the struggle of power between the two. The Great Katana steel was a mirror; light from the White Abyss glared across the edges so it made an impression that the weapon was made of pearl.
“What is this?” Amsel growled and pushed away from the Samurai.
“This,” Corilinos smiled smugly, “is a fair fight.” He held his weapon edge up and to his side where his arms and knees were bent. He controlled his breathing; this was going to be a once in a lifetime experience.
“Fair fight.” Amsel grinned, “If you think this fight was over, you’re wrong! It’s just the beginning!” With a savage roar Amsel clashed its weapon with Corilinos’, who grinned in return, only adding to Amsel’s anger. The smoking blade was being thrashed against the dancing mirrored pearl. The hectic movements of the evil weapon betrayed its attack and let the faithful one to block its advances.
Amsel was becoming careless and afraid. It wasn’t in charge of the battle anymore.
At another break in the fight, Amsel wiped spittle from its mouth. It had been gnashing his teeth so hard that its gums started to ache and still it couldn’t make another advance.
Unless…
“You may have gained a weapon, but your life is still mine!” Amsel stood fully facing Corilinos and swung his Great Katana down in front of itself, “I will swallow you’re soul right here, right now! Forever will we fight in hell!”
Slashing to the side, Amsel’s blade was blocked by Corilinos’, who wore a face of shock as the apparition roared out its attack.
“TACHI: FUKISARASHI!”
For a moment in time, there was nothing…
Until from the corners of the White Abyss, a wind swept up all around Corilinos and Amsel. The Samurai pushed back from his block and felt the wind grow stronger and stronger. Wisps of the wind had black streaks running through them, letting Corilinos see that the attack was like one giant windstorm that caused him to slide across the floor even though his armor was weighing him down greatly.
Amsel, on the other hand, was greatly enjoying the storm that was brewing in Limbo. The winds didn’t seem to affect the apparition too much as it lashed out from time to time, knocking Corilinos to the ground and seeing him resist the gale force winds just to stand up again.
“Soon enough,” Amsel roared over the piercing howls of its attack, “the winds will tear you apart from where you stand! There’s no use on fighting back! You can’t even stand up!” Its laughter was cut out as Corilinos could feel the force of nature push harder against him. It was true, if given the chance the winds would surely pick him up and tear him in half due to their erratic directions.
The Samurai tried in vain to keep his footing and dodge Amsel at the same time. The gales shrieked in his ears and whipped across his face. He never knew wind could be so damn sharp!
“I-…I won’t give up!” He said more to himself than a statement for Amsel. The apparition, however, just put a mocking hand to its ear and laughed, bringing up its own still smoking weapon and lunging.
Corilinos lost his footing as he parried and was soon skidding around on the ground again. He tried to grab the smooth floor with his fingers in an effort to stop but it was futile. He had to let go on occasion as Amsel tried to stab his hands with its Great Katana, making Corilinos go skidding again. He could feel his face begin to bruise from knocking his head against the floor so much and his back starting to burn from his armor chafing his skin.
“I-…I won’t give up…” He couldn’t hear his voice anymore. Corilinos was sure he had gone deaf by now as everything just sounded like a screech of torture. His eyes refused to open anymore, as the wind would whip the moisture away and stab them with their snapping cold.
He felt a boot on his hand, crushing his fingers and in his mind, could hear a sickening laughter. With all his strength, Corilinos brought up his arm that held the Great Katana and blindly thrust it forward.
It was kicked away, lost in the storm.
And then, panic and fear entered his heart. With adrenaline he didn’t know was on reserve, the Samurai tugged his hand free and let himself be lost in the winds as well. He knew he had to find that Great Katana.
Practically flying through the air in an ungraceful tumble, Corilinos risked his eyesight and peered through his lids. A small spark of hope entered his soul as he found out that the weapon hadn’t flown as far as he thought. Unfortunately, after he did a messy summersault, he noticed Amsel right behind him, flying on the same air stream.
With determination, Corilinos fought against the winds and straightened himself for greater velocity through the storm. The weapon was only inches away from his outstretched hand now…he only needed one more second!
There!
“Gotcha!” Amsel grabbed a hold of Corilinos’ ankle as the Samurai looked back at the apparition. Its smile disappeared though, when it noticed its enemy had its weapon back again. “That won’t help you anymore, boy! There’s no hope for you now!”
Amsel brought up its own smoking blade and was prepared to lop off Corilinos’ leg when the Elvaan jerked his limb free and changed direction in the air. The apparition looked up at a face that was emotionless.
“I won’t give up!” The voice seemed to defy the howling terror as his shout rung out through the White Abyss. He brought up his Great Katana up over his shoulder…
[i]Fight to Live.[/i]
“TACHI: AIZEN!”
…and slashed in a diagonal manner. A glowing blast of pearl light burst forth from the spot where he brought his weapon across, clashing greatly with the dark winds swirling all around. Amsel had no choice but to fly into the attack. Its own Great Katana useless against the white light that was rapidly expanding across the room, calming the skies of Limbo. Corilinos, himself, was engulfed in his attack but reveled in the warmth that slowly crept back into his body.
It only took a few moments for his attack to subside. The Samurai fell down and landed hard on his feet, stumbling around and trying to regain his footing. In front of him, a body slammed on the floor and bounced twice before finally resting on its stomach.
Amsel let out a soft moan. It tried, it failed…and now…
Through some sort of witch-fire, the apparition’s body quietly disintegrated into the air, leaving nothing behind…
Corilinos stared at the spot Amsel had died, closed his eyes and smiled.
It was time to return.
---===
The small Mithran group walked on a well-worn path through foliage and tree roots. On either side of the Gatherer’s were their respective warriors who stood on the outside of the group just in case. However, Miraa was walking slower than usual, hanging in the back with weighted thoughts and a guilty conscious. She fingered the necklace involuntarily and gazed up at Kilikina who walked on her ride side; striding purposeful with heavy footfalls.
It looked like she was still mad.
Miraa looked back down on the path below, biting her lip a little. She didn’t understand why Kilikina was so upset about not being able to see her necklace. It was Miraa’s anyway, why should she share it? The Chieftess gave it to her personally so she could show them she was higher ranking then them all. She could order them around if she wanted to!
Shaking her head viciously, Miraa took a deep breath. Where had those thoughts come from? Kilikina was looking at her oddly and Miraa gave her a quick smile before hanging her head again and watch the path go by. She wanted to make up for being rude earlier but couldn’t think of anything to say. The downside to Kilikina’s personality was her stubbornness. Once she was pissed at you, she stayed pissed at you for a good couple of days. However, that didn’t mean she shirked her duties.
Miraa could remember one time, when she was little, that she accidentally broke one of Kilikina’s favored dagger scabbards. The Mithra was so angry she refused to even look her in the eye much less give her the time of day. However, later the next day, she was being picked on because she was interested in those Adventurer’s who were staying in the village for a couple of nights.
‘Goody-two-shoes’.
‘TaruTaru’s girl.’
‘Kissy-up Kat.’
These were only some of the names that didn’t involve her to gather tears in her eyes. So what if she was interested in what other races did? She hadn’t seen many in a long time and was eager to know what it was like outside of the jungle. She especially liked the TaruTaru’s stories and crawled out of her hut at night just to listen to one of her adventurers. Unfortunately, she was caught one time and the teasing grew even worse.
That day she was being verbally assaulted by the older Mithran teens that didn’t like the idea of straying out of the clan’s ways. Miraa was on the verge of all out bawling before Kilikina came up to her defense. Of course, being younger, the teens didn’t take her threats very likely…
…until they got their faces smashed in.
Another one of Kilikina’s downfalls was her temper, as Miraa soon found out. The soldier Mithra was still mad at her for a couple more days after that but would never leave her sight. Always hanging around the soon-to-be Gatherer at the time just in case other Mithran would try the same stunt. This was noticed by the Chieftess at the time and quickly gave Kilikina the role of protecting Miraa whenever there were Gathering Days.
The Personal Adviser smiled at the fond memory. She knew she was in safe hands even though those hands were the same ones that wanted to choke her sometimes from Miraa’s airheaded-ness.
“Kilikina…” She wanted to make amends and she always knew that at lease apologizing would lighten the mood a little. Miraa winced as she received a small grunt in reply.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know I can be a little possessive and rude – “
“ – and big headed and hyper and a big ol’ scardy cat.”
Miraa huffed and frowned up at Kilikina who only gave a small, amused smile and a certain humorous spark in her eyes. Her frown melted away as she grinned. It looked like Kilikina was over her anger, which was in record time, mind you, and back to her old self.
The group continued forward through thick brush, Miraa and Kilikina in he front as they happened upon a rather large cliff edge. Miraa lay on her stomach and poked her head over the side giving a rather large gulp. Mist swirled around a good hundred feet down, making it hard to tell how high the cliff was. She felt a tug on the back of her collar and was lifted to her feet.
“I don’t want you to get too close.” Kilikina remarked.
Miraa nodded. There was something raising her hackles about where they stood. They must’ve made a wrong turn somewhere, which really was unheard of. Miraa never got her group lost when she was Scavenger…
“Let’s…let’s backtrack a little. I think I know where we went wrong.” Miraa turned around to address her group but faltered when she didn’t see any of them behind her.
“Wh-what’s going on…” The Mithra took a step back but stopped, remembering that there was a cliff not even a foot away from her.
“Nothing’s going on. You’re just in the right place,” The brushes on her left moved and suddenly, the Chieftess melted into appearance with a smirk on her face, “at the wrong time.”
“Chieftess!” Miraa ran forward to greet her leader but was replied to with a backhanded smack across her face when she was within range. Miraa fell to the ground on her rump, holding her cheek in astonishment. “What’s going on!?!” She said more out of bewilderment. Where was everyone? How come her leader was attacking her! Wasn’t she her right hand Mithra?
“Nothing’s wrong.” The Chieftess replied, “The only thing is, I can’t let you free. You’ll ruin the plan my master has and that wouldn’t be a good idea.” She suddenly and uncharacteristically wagged her finger at the downed Mithra.
Filled with fear, Miraa launched herself at her Chieftess, hoping to get by and run off into the dense jungle to get away. However, her plan failed when the elder Mithran, with blazing speed, reached out and snatched her neck, holding her aloft so that her toes were barely scraping the ground. Miraa was only able to glance at her captor, finding the gleam she had seen earlier in their eyes, before a searing pain exploded into her chest.
“Now!” The Chieftess yelled above the agonizing screams and slowly walking over to the cliff’s edge, “I will finally finish yo-ARGH!”
For a second time, Miraa dropped to the ground on her knees, gripping her chest and wishing the pain away. The Chieftess stumbled backwards, holding her arm; her blood was oozing out of a deep wound.
Heaving heavily, the pain subsiding little by little, Miraa looked up to see a pair of legs obstructing her view of the Chieftess.
“Ki-…Kili-…”
“Don’t talk. It’ll only hurt more.” She wasn’t about to argue with that.
The Chieftess growled, “Why are you here! You should be dead.”
“I’ve been dead for a long time. You just haven’t caught me yet.”
“What?”
Kilikina frowned and turned around, ignoring the confused Chieftess for a brief moment, “Are you okay, Miraa?”
“I’m…fine. Just stings.”
“Good. Want to go sky diving?”
Miraa snatched her head up in surprise, “Off the cliff? I don’t think sooOOOOO!”
In one swift movement, Kilikina turned on her heel and dashed for Miraa and the edge of the cliff. The Chieftess, finally figuring out what was going on, chased after them but didn’t do something as reckless as run off the cliff like the other two did.
The sharp, humid jungle air whipped around Miraa’s face as she screamed; her voice echoing off the cliff face wall. They were nearing the beginning of the mist and the Mithra could only hope that she would blackout before she hit ground. She felt her arm being tugged upward, seeing that Kilikina was free falling just above her and trying to become level with her friend.
“Miraa!” She yelled above the wind noise in their ears.
“What???”
“Close your eyes and give me your necklace!”
“What? Are you NUTS?”
“Have I ever led you to doubt me before?”
“…No!”
“Then why start now?”
They had entered the mist, the sharp stings of the floating water molecules stinging their skin as Kilikina reached down and tore off the necklace from Miraa’s neck. Mimicking a signal for her to close her eyes, Miraa did so and felt a slight pressure upon her forehead.
The voice suddenly came calm and quiet.
“This will not come slow, this will not be easy and this will not last forever. This necklace is the signifying item that is keeping you trapped in this dream. Once I break it, you only have a limited amount of time before Krause gains control of you again. You have to fight him. You have to win.”
There was a deep breath.
“Now, discern. Are you living in a perfect life? Is this everything you wanted? Do you wish to give up your life as an Adventurer?”
Miraa dared not to open her eyes, fearing that this was a hoax on her body and that she was still plummeting at ridiculous speeds towards the ground. She frowned however, at the type of question being asked. She thought she was a Scavenger…
“No.”
“Why.”
“Being a Scavenger is nice and all, but I think there are plenty of people qualified to do my job. I don’t want to give my life up as an Adventurer because I don’t want to stop protecting the ones that are unable to protect themselves.”
“Open.”
Cracking one eye open, Miraa was blinded by the whiteness she suddenly appeared in. The only thing to offset the whiteness was a cloaked figure of Kilikina standing not but a few feet away. Miraa took a couple of moments to walk around her new surrounding, voicing her inevitable question.
“What…is this place?”
“This is the White Abyss of Limbo.”
Miraa turned back around to face her friend, “Limbo? You mean death’s Limbo?”
Kilikina gave a small shrug of her shoulder. “Not necessarily. It’s more like you died but are coming [i]back[/i] through Limbo. I didn’t think a Paladin would be so easily taken by the scourge of something their job ability was so highly defended against.”
The Mithran scratched her head but suddenly felt something course and hard rub against her skull. Miraa looked down at her white plated hands. Chains interlocked with each other as plate upon plate was specially crafted and welded through magic to give the wearer extra defense in their pursuit of their job’s abilities. The Paladin’s tabard resting nicely against her body plate once again. To her dismay, however, she noted that her sword was missing and she had no shield.
“Don’t worry. Your weapon is with you, you just need to make sure you want to protect, as you say.” Kilikina answered the question that was plaguing the Mithra’s mind. As Miraa nodded in her understanding, she saw the cloaked Mithran turn to walk away, her physical being disappearing.
“Wait! I don’t even know who you are!”
The form of Kilikina turned around and gave the Paladin a small, smirking grin.
“I am who you see but not who I am. I too lost my life to those miserable ghosts and have wandered the afterlife, looking for people like yourself and your friends to help me in my escape from this plane of existence. I took on this form because it was what your heart recognized in that dream of deceit. The person you see has to have been of some significant importance in your life. Do not forget them, for as they may have passed along in life, they have not passed by your heart.”
Miraa called out to the fading image but stopped as soon as it was all white again the only last comfort she received was a ghostly voice saying:
“Fight to Protect, Miraa. I’m counting on you.”
And then, she was alone in Limbo’s White Abyss.
The only logical choice that Miraa could think of at the time was to walk forward. She really didn’t know what else to do, being stuck in the middle of nowhere and all. Maybe this nowhere had an ending? Well, whatever this place was, she had to find Krause like Kilikina said. She didn’t want to be stuck in some sicko’s dream world, though she could hardly argue the difference between where she is now and where she was a few minutes ago.
“This place sucks…”
“Hmm, indeed, indeed. It sucks that you’ll have to die in a place you hate!”
Miraa’s ears stood straight up as she spun around, a rather short Galka standing only few feet away from her. Her ears then flattened to the side of her head as she slowly took and few steps back in case of any surprise moves. The Galka had on a stupid, lopsided smile and wielded what looked like a smoking black Bastard Sword along with the Artifact Paladin Armor.
Miraa growled, “You disrespect the armor that you wear.”
Krause only shrugged and then launched forward in its attack.
“A coward would never attack an opponent without a weapon!”
“Hehe, as you can see, I am neither living or dead so names don’t surprise me! Good try though! This next attack will cleave you in two!” Krause swung the sword horizontally as Miraa, with great agility, jumped up in the air, barely missing the cut by inches.
However the attacks didn’t stop there. Miraa was put on the defensive as Krause kept swinging its sword around in hacking slashes. They were moderately difficult to dodge, but she feared that her balance would give out soon as the attacks put her in awkward footholds.
Fortunately, on one attack, she saw an opening, and took it.
Krause smashed its sword down into the ground as Miraa leapt again, this time though, she landed on top of the blade, her weight causing the Galkan apparition to struggle from raising its blade. With a swift kick, Miraa made contact with its head making the monster grunt in pain and let go of its weapon. With a grin, the Mithra hopped over the blade handle and gripped its hilt…
In that one moment, Miraa felt the foreboding despair she had witnessed earlier come back to her ten-fold. Her sight was suddenly blanketed in blackness and a vision appeared.
She was crying in the middle of a snow drift field. Bodies of people of different nationalities and races were strewn around her; their blood were creating patterns of death on the pure ground. To live a life of being protected instead of protecting…knowing she could do nothing…
[i]“Hi!”
“…Hi.”
“You’re a…TaruTaru?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And an Adventurer?”
“That is correct.”
“Wow! You must have a lot of stories to tell!”
“I have, one or two.”
“Can anyone become an Adventurer?”
“Not everyone, just the strong of heart and mind. It takes a strong sense of being to face your fears.”
“Is it the same as ‘You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you?’”
“You are very astute. Your common guidance would help if you were to become a Paladin.”[/i]
Those words had penetrated her being ever since she left her village in the jungle.
Releasing the grip of the hilt as if it had burned her, Miraa managed to dodge a swift punch the apparition decided to take while she had paused in her memories.
“Hey! Not cool!” Miraa yelled and pointed her finger and stamped her foot at the apparition.
“Hehe, too bad, too bad.” Krause said as it lifted the sword back up into its hands, “The Darkness you just witnessed is one I will subject you to when I slice you in half!”
With what seemed like no effort exerted, Krause bounded after the Mithra with blazing speed and brought down its sword towards her skull, but Miraa wasn’t about to give up. She had seen her own horror and found out that destiny can be changed even if it only made her happy…and one was plenty.
“Not so fast!” She swung her arm around in an arc, as if there already was a weapon in her hands. Her trained muscle memory creating one of the perfect blocking techniques only the most dedicated Paladins knew.
[i]Clang![/i]
It shocked them both to hear such a sound.
Miraa was pushing back with all her might with a sword that she didn’t have moments before. The blade had a soft deep blue tint that gleamed in the light of the White Abyss. The length was almost as long as the Mithra holding it as it stretched down into a white marble hilt that had leather straps of forest green. The Mithra held onto the sword with both hands, her leverage matched Krause’s.
With a grunt, the apparition suddenly pushed down on and jumped back to give itself room.
“What an interesting turn of events! It seems I might get to have a little fun after all!” It mocked and held up its sword as the blade was slanted diagonally in front of it.
Miraa swished the sword once horizontally and then pointed it directly at Krause.
“Fun or not. I [i]will[/i] defeat you and help my friends.”
“Sure, sure.” Krause smiled, a little too knowingly, “just make sure that you can get [i]back[/i] to them first!”
Uttering those words, the Galka pointed its sword downwards and stabbed the ground.
“DEVOURING QUAKE BLADE!”
All at once, the White Abyss started to rumble and then split into many cracks. Underneath the floors of Limbo were tendrils of smoking blackness like the sword the Galkan had held. Miraa was surprised as she started to loose her balance on the roaring ground beneath her. She hopped back and forth as the cracks started to become more numerous by the second, devouring the ground that had held back the power of darkness.
“You have no chance to escape!” Krause was laughing out loud now. It was suspended in midair, its own attack doing nothing to its own physical being. “You and I will forever battle into hell! You will never be able to return to your friends!”
“No!” Miraa screamed in a mix of fear and anger. She was running out of room to jump around without falling into hell. Her reflexes could only go so far if she had room to move around but each pillar was shrinking down to nothing and crumbling in on itself.
“Face it! Just die!”
“NEVER! I am a Paladin for a reason!”
[i]Fight to Protect.[/i]
“VERITY LUCID BLADE!”
Miraa gripped her sword hilt with all her strength and swung her blade in an upward arc, creating a crescent light that flashed from her weapon and raced along the black void straight towards an amazed Krause. It tried to block the attack with its own sword but couldn’t hold off the power that it emitted. It screamed in fright as the crescent wave suddenly shattered its smoking sword and sliced the apparition in two.
The Paladin felt her own pillar starting to crumble and she jumped up in the air just as it fell apart. She had nothing to worry about it seemed since as soon as the Galkan apparition Krause was destroyed a white swirling effect started to appear, reconstructing the ground that was once destroyed moments before.
Miraa’s feet landed on the hard White Abyss floor, sighing a small, happy sigh and looked up into the air.
It was time to go back.
---===
Shingen remembered to wipe his feet as he entered the Auction House as Asiah took his cloak and hung it up on a nearby rack. The temperature was almost ten degrees hotter due to the bodies that enclosed the rooms. The Elvaan cringed as he kept bumping into people, his hatred for crowds growing with every passing second.
Races of all nationalities were present at the Auction Houses, Shingen noted. He could see mostly nobles trouncing around but he also spotted a few Adventurers trying to find the cheapest price of the rarest items that Ru’Lude sometimes had on sale. He finally chose what looked like to be a less crowded seating area where a silent auction was going on. He jostled his bag of ferns around, annoyed. He really should’ve let Asiah take them…
“Shingen!”
The lord whipped his head around to face his personal servant who was now being pestered by a few nobles like himself. Causing him ire, Shingen walked over and patted the shoulder of one of the nobles.
“Excuse me, good sir, but I think you should leave her alone.”
The noble turned around and looked Shingen up and down before his comment shocked the lord to his very soul.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Adventurer.”
Shingen balked a little. How did he look like an Adventurer? This was an insult! In response, he did the only thing he could think of.
[i]Whack![/i]
The noble was literally punched off of his feet and sliding across the marble floor as Shingen rubbed his hand. The man’s face was harder than it looked!
A small crowd suddenly appeared, looking at the fallen body and then up to Shingen. The young noble felt that the crowd was a little off today. They neither stooped down to help the man, nor did they start to gossip about what happened. Talking behind one another’s backs was a favorite pastime between the elite and Shingen couldn’t figure out why there were just standing there and looking at him.
“Sir…” Asiah pulled on his arm, “We’d better go. I don’t think we’re in a friendly environment anymore.”
And her words held true because as soon as she spoke them, the crowd suddenly lurched forward, shuffling towards the two in the enclosed hallway. A fearful tingle sprung up his back as Shingen couldn’t help but nod and turn around towards to door outside, only finding it blocked by three nobles. The Elvaan groaned in disdain. He didn’t want to have to fight everyone, his knuckles were already throbbing from the first punch and he didn’t think he could take out twenty more should they catch him.
Taking a stance to knock the three out of the way, Shingen was surprised when Asiah took a step in front of him, holding what seemed to be a small bag.
“Asiah, what is that?”
She smiled over her shoulder, “Just a simple trick I picked up.” And before he could ask anymore, Asiah had pulled out a Katana, rubbing the fine powder from the bag onto her blade. The bodies of the nobles were getting within reaching range and Shingen took up his stance again, hoping that they could get out in time.
Asiah attacked first. Whipping around her Katana, she jumped at the nearest noble blocking the door. Shingen gasped as it looked like she slashed at the man’s eyes. To his relief, he noticed that no blood has been spilled and the noble was furiously rubbing his face to get the dust off.
“Kurayami: Ichi…” Somehow, the words echoed into Shingen’s mind as he felt another pang of a headache enter. He snapped out of his thinking and took hold of another noble near the door. Picking him up, Shingen easily tossed the man over his shoulder and into the bigger crowd behind him. The body knocked a few people down and congested the hallway even more but at least it gave both of them time.
Suddenly, he looked over and noticed Asiah standing beside him, holding a different bag in her hands.
“Which tool is that?”
She didn’t turn her head but just smiled, chanting a quick spell and then executing it. In front of Shingen’s eyes, she had multiplied into three copy images. Two of them were already off to take care of the last noble and the last was pulling on his arm to run forward and out into the Jeuno air. The two didn’t stop running until they were near a closed magic shop.
“Are you alright?” Asiah asked.
Shingen had his hands on his knees, breathing hard, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Last time I saw, little house maidens didn’t know how to slit a person’s throat in five different directions.”
Asiah rolled her eyes and was flipping her Katana nonchalantly. “Well I wouldn’t expect a spoiled little noble to know how to defend himself. You might messy up your big boy shirt!” She puffed her face and puckered her lips, teasing Shingen as he smirked.
“You certainly changed in a heartbeat back there.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures and right now we need to keep moving. I can see the crowd’s shadows around the corner.”
Shingen turned around and saw what she meant. The streets were empty save for the small noises of shuffling feet and the shadows cast by the lantern light on this gray day.
“Why are they attacking us? It’s not like I punched the Archduke.”
Asiah winced and gave a nervous chuckle, “Well, in here. It’s like you had.”
“In…here?”
“No time! Let’s move!”
Before Shingen knew it, Asiah had him by the arm and was dragging him down the streets of Ru’Lude Gardens. She was certainly quicker than he thought, and he had a hard time balancing himself from being pulled.
“Where are we going?”
“The Mog House!”
“Why?”
“What other place is more fortified with magic that keeps other’s out?”
“Oh…yes. That would make sense.”
It seemed odd to Shingen at first, but the adrenaline that was rushing through him almost seemed like second nature. He never thought he would be having the time of his life running away from zombie like nobles with a servant who was also a skilled ninja. He saw Asiah suddenly skid on one foot and change directions, running down a long set of steps that lead to the Consulate’s of the three nations and then, farther on, the Mog Houses. He had to try the best he could from allowing himself to trip and fall down three flights of steps.
Unfortunately, they had the surprise of the Ambassador’s waiting for them at the bottom, and they didn’t look like they were going to give a friendly tour of the city.
“We can’t fight them!” Shingen said with a futile voice as Asiah jumped off of the last five steps and clobbered the Mithra of Windurst. Shingen balked and grimaced. Attacking Ambassador’s of other countries was a one hundred percent death penalty and he had a lot of life left he wanted to live.
“C’mon!” Asiah shouted at him, dodging a swinging blow from the Bastok Galkan, “We have to fight through to get to the Mog House! Or do you [i]want[/i] Zombies to chase you forever?”
“No, no!” Shingen waved his hands in front of him, “I’ll fight.”
The Elvaan leapt off of the steps and rammed his foot into the San’dorian Ambassador’s chest. Shingen was happy to see the Ambassador fall to the ground and remain motionless. Though through that moment of distraction, the other San’dorian Ambassador grabbed him from behind and flipped him over her shoulder. Shingen landed with a [i]thud[/i] onto the cobblestone ground.
“Ugh…” He opened his eyes and gasped, dodging just in time for a boot to land inches away from where his head lay. With a backward summersault, the noble rounded to his feet and put up a fighting stance.
'If only I had my Scythe.'
Another headache pain made him grimace and loose sight of a flying fist that connected to his cheek. Shingen was none too happy to find himself staring at the cracks of the street again.
“Asiah!” He called out, leaping to his feet and dodging blows from the Ambassador, “I need a little help here!” Shingen danced around another punch and let the momentum of the Ambassador move past him, so that they were facing each other but in the opposite positions just moments before.
“Hey! Long-necked Lizard face!” Using her friend’s shoulders to propel herself, Asiah flew through the air and planted her foot right into the stunned face of the Ambassador Shingen was fighting. There was a subtle snapping sound as the Ambassador was pummeled into the ground. Grimacing, Shingen looked over his shoulder to see only the Hume and the TaruTaru Ambassadors chasing after them and again felt a tugging sensation on his arm as he was ushered forward.
“Wait, wait, WAIT! Let me throw these ferns away. They’re annoying me when I run!”
“No! Don’t do that. We need those.”
“What? Why! They’re just ugly plants.”
With a sudden stop, Shingen almost ran into the Hume in front of him. He heard Asiah huff and turn around, snatching the fern bag and ripping the straps off of his body.
“There’s never time like the present. We won’t be able to make it to the Mog House now.”
Shingen just looked at her like she had grown two heads, “What in the [i]Seven Ugly Hells[/i] are you talking about? What is going [i]on[/i]!”
“Just hold still and this will take a second!” Asiah rummaged through his bag, grabbing ferns and examining them closely before discarding them. She kept doing this until she saw a rather odd looking plant that was old, withered and completely black.
“Lean down.”
“I’m not going to eat that!”
“I didn’t say you were going to eat it, did I?” Asiah nearly shouted, annoyance clearly evident in her voice.
Shingen complied after a brief hesitation and leaned down. He could feel the squishy fern touch his forehead and closed his eyes in disgust.
“Good, keep your eyes closed like that. This will not come slow, this will not be easy and this will not last forever. This fern is the signifying item that is keeping you trapped in this dream. Once I break it, you only have a limited amount of time before Schmidt gains control of you again. You have to fight him. You have to win.”
Shingen frowned as he felt his memories pouring into him. The name Schmidt caused him to gnash his teeth a little.
“Now, discern. Are you living in a perfect life? Is this everything you wanted? Do you wish to give up your life as an Adventurer?”
“Don’t I at least get one phone call?” Shingen nervously chuckled. Unfortunately, all he heard was his own laughter as he quickly stopped and cleared his throat.
“I-…I don’t want live like I am. I want to continue being an Adventurer.”
“Is it so bad to live this life of luxury?”
“That depends on the person. I’ve had my taste of both worlds and I prefer the one where I can flex my muscles and fight on my own terms.”
“You can open your eyes now.”
Shingen had to open his slowly, the bright light of where he was now was shining a little too much for his eyes to adjust comfortably.
“Ugh…the whiteness. I’m blind!”
He felt a small punch on his arm and turned to look down on Asiah who stood at his side, clad in a simple cloak.
“More cloak and daggers?” He grinned in amusement. Asiah merely smiled back.
“I won’t be staying long but you have to defeat Schmidt soon or else you’ll be forever trapped in Limbo.”
Looking around, Shingen gave an irritated sigh. “Shit…I died?”
“Not really.” Asiah began to walk around nonchalantly before continuing, “It’s more like you [i]had[/i] died, but are now being brought back to life.”
“So, its like a paradox…except I have to fight for my soul.”
“Something like that.” Asiah shrugged lazily.
“Nothing is ever easy.” Shingen rubbed the back of his head, noticing he was donned in his Dark Knight armor. “It’s a good thing I’m suited up for it, or else I’d make Altana’s heaven a living hell. Hey look, another paradox.”
Asiah pointed to him and then to her back, “Almost, your weapon’s also missing.” She curiously eyed Shingen on what his reaction would be.
To her surprise, Shingen patted his back and, finding no weapon, spread his hands out in front of him. “It doesn’t matter. I fight with my own strength. Though a weapon would make things easier.”
Asiah smirked, “Well, you’ll get one soon enough if you really want it. Anyway,” she turned around and started walking off into nowhere, “I’ve got to be going. One more stop along the way.”
“Okay. I’ll see ya later, Asiah.” Shingen nodded and raised a hand in a farewell gesture.
Asiah turned around and started to walk backwards, speaking, “I’m not really Asiah, you know.”
“I know, but I don’t care.”
She smiled, “You keep on living Shingen. Fight to show how Strong you are.”
“Yo! No worries about that!” He flexed his arm and gave a thumbs up.
Soon enough, Shingen was standing alone in a large white room, completely and utterly bored out of his mind.
The Dark Knight crossed his arms and sighed. One of his worst pet peeves, next to being poked, was waiting. He [i]hated[/i] waiting. Waiting was like…like…WAITING! Waiting was not fun. It took time and the Elvaan hated wasting time because it was like you were waiting for time to be wasted. Yeah…He’d have to remember that one; it’d give Miraa a headache. Smirking to himself and rubbing a hand through his hair, he decided to do a more abrupt approach to get things moving.
Picking a random direction, Shingen smartly leaned over, stuck out his bum, and smacked it.
“Yoo hoo! Schmiiidt! Come get some of this! You know you waaant iiit!”
Moving his ass out of the way just in time, a large smoking black scythe almost lopped his rear off. Shingen hopped forward and turned around, facing a rather large and ugly Elvaan wearing Dark Knight Artifact armor and fuming with an inner rage.
Shingen playfully placed a hand on his cheek and leaned into it, “Oh, there you are. I thought you wanted a hug.” He had to leap back again as another slash fell down his way.
“Stop…moving…” Schmidt growled, its one and only arm swinging the large scythe in fierce chopping motions.
“Temper, temper.” Shingen danced to the side, avoiding another attack and countered with a kick to the ribs. It didn’t seem to do much effect but to irritate Schmidt, which wasn’t a good sign. The apparition continued to swing to its content, never falling out of pace. To Shingen, this was both good and bad.
The good part was that it was easy to see the pattern the ghostly Elvaan caused for his attacks, the bad part was that they never seemed to stop or even slow down. The Dark Knight surmised that it was because Schmidt was dead and he wasn’t. Oh…the irony…
Of course, Shingen didn’t have all the time in the world…or Limbo, he guessed. Schmidt had to go down and fighting a ghost with only one appendage was harder than it looked at the moment.
“What did Asiah say before? I get a weapon when I need it? Do I have to say something?”
Shingen felt his legs buckle under him for a split second. Now was not the time to suddenly feel jelly legs from exhaustion. He hadn’t even been fighting long and it seemed like it was going to be a loosing battle. Schmidt must have had more influence on his mind than Shingen would like to have given it credit for.
‘Must still be sore after I cut off his arm.’ He mentally guessed.
“Feeling weak?” Schmidt grinned, knowing that its opponent was feeling a little worse for ware at the moment.
“Just getting a little warmed up. No need to rush it.” ‘That’s good, just play along.’ Shingen thought.
“My, my, my. I would think that you looking a little pale. Maybe you should sit [i]down[/i]!” Schmidt surprised Shingen and used an unknown reserve of strength, swinging its scythe up and then across in a horizontal manner. Shingen had no choice but to sidestep and then folly on his bottom as he ducked underneath the weapon.
The apparition gave a sickening grin as it quickly rested the blade’s edge barely an inch in front of Shingen’s eyes. The smoking blackness curling upward into a small solid wispy screen that the Dark Knight’s eyes were instantly drawn to…
In his mind flashed images and Shingen gasped as the shivers of the foreboding fear from before wracked his body. He was too weak to be able to fight, his skin hanging off of his own bones and his eyes were hollow and sunken. Rags draped his skinny body as he lay on the streets of Jeuno, hands cupped out in front of him, begging. Behind him in an alleyway were small piles of bodies that used to be his friends. They died, knowing he wasn’t strong enough. Now he lived in eternal shame.
[i]“You don’t look so good, here.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Asiah. I hate formalities.”
“…”
“So…that was some fight.”
“Y-yeah…”
“You lost.”
“…”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Huh?”
“What are you going to do about it? Are you going to sit here and moan about your aches and pains?”
“N-no!”
“Then…”
“I’m going to get better. I’m going to show that I can put up a fight next time. I don’t want to be picked on anymore.”
“Really? Just you?”
“Well…they pick on other people too.”
“Will you fight for them?”
“Y-Yeah! I’ll fight for them! But…”
“The first step of becoming stronger is to recognize your own weaknesses. You can’t forget that you’re not the end of all means. However, growing stronger to help others is a noble cause. Just don’t become a bully like those who tormented you just now.”
“…Thank you, Asiah.”[/i]
That was the factor that changed Shingen on his road of life.
It was a split second for him to regain his mind as he rolled to the side, hearing the tip of a scythe slice across the floor. The Dark Knight looked up to see a rather wicked scar on the ground as the smoking blade was hefted again by the apparition, stalking closer with every step.
“Those headaches you had were a personal gift of mine.” A grin slowly spread across its Elvaan features. “I wanted to give you a small payback when you so diligently sliced my arm off. Now, though, I can repay you in full and instead of an arm, I think I’d like to lop off your head!”
Faster than Shingen could imagine, Schmidt leapt forward and stomped its foot on the Dark Knights chest, leaving him out of breath and struggling to get free. Shingen groaned in pain as the foot started to press harder on his ribs, some already nearing a breaking point, and watched in horror as the apparition hefted the scythe over its shoulder, ready to make one clean swipe.
[i]Schick![/i]
The curve of the smoking blade was centimeters from the jugular, stopped only by an equally dark weapon that Shingen gripped in his hand. The glassy obsidian blade struck at the base of the evil weapon’s connecting point of the staff and steel. It’s own staff was wrapped around with what seemed like gold vines and a mahogany staff handle.
Schmidt, glaring at the sudden weapon that was protesting against its own, stammered in fury and surprised. Shingen took the moment and lifted his feet, kicking the apparition forward in a stumble as he somersaulted forward and hopped back up.
“Oh? What’s this? Mr. Schmidt is [i]afraid[/i] of lil’ ol’ me? How [i]adorable[/i].”
It didn’t help either that Shingen was talking as if he was addressing a baby.
“Wha…you…grrr!” With those guttural words, Schmidt raised its scythe and the fight was on.
It truly was a sight to see. The swinging weapons were always meant for a type of slashing motion, but never has a person seen the speed at which one could carry the weapon. Shingen himself never thought that if you swung a scythe fast enough, the air would cause a sort of whistling along the blade, making the perfect angles create a harmony of strength and power. There was no doubt that Shingen could get used to this type of music.
The quickness of the two fighters spread out across the floor, their weapons blurring along the air as they tried to slice each other to pieces, only to have the opponent block the attack for just a brief second until the blades broke apart from the contact and started their spin again.
Much to say, the Dark Knight was having the time of his life and he left the evidence clear on his face.
“You think this is [i]funny[/i]?” Schmidt yelled at him.
Shingen spun his weapon in front of his person, blocking an attack, “I don’t think this is [i]funny[/i], I think this is [i]fun[/i]!”
The apparition Elvaan shot its eyes open when it heard this. So far, as it knew, it was going to loose and loosing wasn’t an option for its master. It surprised Shingen when it jumped back farther than any normal mortal could. “You’re not going to get out of this so easy, easy. I have direct instructions to terminate you, by all means!”
“I’d like to see you try!” Shingen provoked.
Schmidt grinned and raised its scythe up over its head and behind its back. It finally slashed it forward, the blade arching over itself and embedding the blade into the ground. Shingen watched carefully, waiting for some sort of trick. Seeing that nothing was happening at the moment, he looked over at Schmidt who deepened his grin and said, “Executioner’s Horror.”
Suddenly, from [i]somewhere[/i] in Limbo, dark botches of shadows started to collect underneath Schmidt. Flowing darkness started to swirl underneath and congregate within itself, making the spot underneath the apparition grow and grow. Shingen took a couple steps back, making sure that the blackness never got close to him incase he was sucked in.
Schmidt, feeling the power rise in it finally lifted its scythe from the ground and swung it to the side. “Prepare to die!”
In a violent tornado like torrent, the circle of blackness erupted from the ground and shot into the sky, the apparition in the middle of it all. It only took a second for the pillar of black to disperse and a towering monster to come into view. Shingen staggered and almost fell backwards as the one-armed apparition glared down at him with solid yellow eyes. Its own body coated with the smoking black that its weapon once had and what looked like horns on its head that curved backwards.
Gulping and gripping his weapon, Shingen prepared for a battle he didn’t think he could win. Maybe he shouldn’t have provoked it in the first place…
The slow rumble of a chuckle shook his insides and drew him out of his thoughts and he could only gasp though, when the good arm of the monster shot across the floor as fast as lightning, gripping Shingen’s body in a tight clasp.
“Foolish, foolish. I’ll squish you.”
Schmidt may have only been speaking in a normal voice but to Shingen, the voice was a roaring torrent in his ears. Wrenching his arms and weapon free, the Dark Knight took a desperate slash at the arm, noticing that the blade still had an effect on the monster as it recoiled and released its grip on him. Now, it was just a small free-fall towards the ground.
Shingen closed his eyes…He didn’t want to die like this. He wanted to keep going on with his life. He still wanted to fight…
[i]Fight for Strength.[/i]
That’s right!
Snapping his eyes open again, Shingen snarled and twisted his body in the air, pulling the scythe across his torso with one hand.
“FLAWLESS SHADOW HARMONY!”
The Dark Knight wrenched the scythe in a horizontal manner as one large golden sliver released out of the blade followed by a few smaller slices as they raced towards the apparition.
Yellow eyes widened in shock as the good hand rushed forward again to stop the power that was coming after itself. It screamed as the slivers ripped apart its only arm left and continued into the air and finally connecting against the monster’s body. For a second, it seemed like Shingen’s attack was stopped by its chest, but soon, it pierced through, causing the gigantic body to lurch upwards into the air and finally disintegrate into a smoky nothingness.
Thumping along the ground, Shingen finally lay to rest on his stomach. His breaths came heavy but worthwhile.
He used his remaining strength and rolled on his back, staring at the nonexistent ceiling and knew that it was time to return.
---===
The chattering inside stopped at that very moment his hand touched the knob. For Kastayon, time had taken a pause as he felt rushes of fear overwhelm his being as his eyes widened in half surprise and fear. He began to have a migraine as his mind was reeling from the thoughts between rational and the ‘what if’ thoughts. His hand was apparently left to grip the doorknob as the world flew by him.
“Thunder!”
In the next moment, Kastayon was sitting on the ground, his back roughed up and the school door blown to pieces. He coughed as the dust settled and looked up, gasping. Ghot had Moyaya in a headlock, threatening to choke her and break her neck. Without another thought, Kastayon bounded up from his position on the ground and smashed his fist into the Hume’s face. Moyaya dropped to the ground and coughed heavily, trying to regain all her lost air and making sure her brain was receiving the oxygen. Ghot flew over the railing of the second story bridge and plummeted to the ground below.
“Moyaya.” Kastayon rushed to the tiny TaruTaru’s side, helping her sit up, “Are you okay?”
“I-…I’m fine, professor.” She cleared her throat and coughed a little more. “What’s going on with Ghot? I saw him smile when you touched the door and then you just zonked out!”
“I wish I knew, Moyaya. For right now, my thoughts are turning to that of something sinister is going on.” Kastayon picked up the little student and placed her on his shoulder. “You’ll ride along with me for the time being. We’re going to get some answers.”
Turning around and running back from where he came, Kastayon headed down to the first floor of the Mines where he saw Ghot fall last. However, when he came to the spot, all he saw was a small dark spot but no body.
‘This is not possible.’ Kastayon thought, becoming more wary as each second passed.
“Professor! Aero!” He heard Moyaya yell her spell in his ear and felt her body twist to that she had a clear shot behind the both of them. The teacher turned around and saw Ghot fly through the air but flip and land perfectly unharmed. Kastayon instinctively drew his body in a Monk’s fighting stance.
Ghot stood before them, a wicked smile gracing his face. Somehow, he had obtained a variation of weapons in the short time that he had left their eyesight. A Great Sword and a Polearm was crossed strapped against his back while in his hands he held a rather large mallet and a double bladed axe in the other. He righted up, and twirled the club about lazily.
“I knew it was a bad idea to let you run around here.” Kastayon had a feeling the comment was more directed at Moyaya than him.
The TaruTaru huffed and shot back, “Even if you do control some aspect here, you cannot control destiny!”
“Ha! Destiny was always meant to change. There is no one true path on which one lives their life. Yours in particular, will end here!” Ghot leaned back and threw the axe spinning in the air towards the pair. The excellence in the throw left little for Kastayon to dodge, but thankfully he did just that and landed on the ground, hard. The professor had to be more wary of his opponent. Apparently, he was more skilled than Kastayon had at first hoped.
‘My fists are my only weapons but he’s got blades on his side.’ Kastayon lifted himself off the ground and winced as his shoulder warned him of a potential injury or strain. He looked over at the small form of Moyaya who looked even worse. The TaruTaru’s body was never meant to handle such degrees of fighting while a Galkan’s could take a hit or two and keep rolling with the punches.
‘I have to protect her.’ He studied Moyaya for a second more, making sure she was able to get up herself with no further injuries. Seeing that she was okay, Kastayon stood to his full height, making sure to put his body in front of the smaller person. Ghot only held a smug look as he shifted his club from one hand to the next.
“I want you to leave Moyaya out of this. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Oh but she [i]has[/i]!” Ghot replied, “She has been involved from the very beginning and I was foolish enough to let is get past me. I have already felt my brothers fall in battle but I’ve had time to prepare! Our Master will be victorious!”
Kastayon’s eyes widened a little. Brothers? Did he mean…? Was this Pfeffer? Were his friends alive? If they were, they could handle the rest themselves. Right now he had to escape like the others had and bring Moyaya with him. It wouldn't be fair to leave one of the most important people in this hellhole Pfeffer had created.
“Pfeffer, I am your opponent.” Kastayon said as he waited for the oncoming attack.
“Figured it out already, eh? Well, I guess that’s not a surprise coming from a Professor. Be wary now, here I come!”
Pfeffer jumped forward, bringing the club down in a smooth arch. The Monk was not surprised as he snatched Pfeffer’s wrist that held the club and redirected the apparition’s path towards the cobblestone ground with a sickening [i]thud[/i].
Moyaya hurried behind Kastayon and started to raise her hands in a form of a spell until a large hand covered hers, “Not now.” The Galka said. “You have to conserve your strength just in case.” She nodded and went back to watching Ghot (or what her professor called, Pfeffer) clambered up from the ground and stand on shaky legs, anger clearly apparent in his stance.
“I have no time for this.” The apparition said and spat to the side. Raising one of his arms, he flicked his wrist and then waved it to the side.
Kastayon felt a sudden weight being lifted from his side as he watched his satchel that he kept his papers in begin to rise and dump the said papers into the air where they floated for a moment.
“Unfortunately for my brothers, there was a small intervention before they were able to capture your friends forever. Lucky for me, I’ve been given time.” Seven pieces of parchment wavered and encircled Kastayon giving off a slight black hue around their edges. “These papers will bind you here for all eternity, letting me dictate your life like a god!”
“Not yet!”
Swiftly, spouts of fire consumed three of the papers as the other four faltered for a moment. Kastayon noticed Moyaya was standing in front of him now, protecting any onslaught Pfeffer might give.
“You have no idea what you’re getting into!” The apparition laughed, “I just need one paper to bind his soul and so far, I have three to spare, but, just to be on the safe side…”
One of the four remaining parchment papers surrounding Kastayon disappeared and reappeared next to Pfeffer, floating harmlessly next to his face. “As long as I have this piece of paper, you’ll be stuck in my world. Forever will you-“
“Firaga!”
Kastayon suddenly felt the air around him become almost nonexistent, as the scorching flames sapped as much moisture and oxygen as it could that was within reach. Although, no matter how hot it became around him, he didn’t feel his hair burning or the licks of flames across his skin. He opened one of his eyes carefully and noticed the wavering haze as the papers before him dissolved into nothing.
And just like that, the air suddenly became clear again and the blue sky was shining, as it had been a minute before. The Galka looked down at his friend who was breathing heavily as she lowered her hands to her sides and plopped on the ground, exhausted. She smiled up at her teacher who gave her a wink and a thumbs up in gratitude.
“What the, what? How in the…” Ghot broke his train of thought as he raised his own arms down, as he thought the spell had been aimed at him. He looked around to see his effort at trickery fail.
Kastayon took the initiative of Pfeffer’s distraction and charged in. His massive fists flying in the air as the apparition sloppily dodged the attacks. In retaliation, Pfeffer unsheathed his Polearm and swung down; having it blocked by Kastayon’s arms that were crossed in front of him. Pfeffer pulled back the weapon and thrust it forward, hoping to pierce the Galka through the chest. The Monk simply turned sideways and grabbed the pole and swung it in an arc, throwing the apparition off the weapon and onto the ground. Kastayon broke the pole over his knee and threw away the pieces to his side.
Ghot picked himself off the ground and shrugged the Great Sword off. He was down to one weapon but that was all he needed.
“Yeeaaaahhhh!” Charging forward, Ghot swiped at the Monk who easily dodged the slow attacks.
What Kastayon didn’t count on was that not everyone played fair.
Ghot slashed the blade sideways, letting strength be carried to only one of his hands while the other plucked the paper that flew around him out of the air and shove it on the Galka’s head, immobilizing him.
“This will come slow, this will be easy and this will last forever. This paper is the signifying item that is keeping you trapped in my world. Once I condemn you, you will forever be trapped under my command and you will lose!”
Kastayon’s eyes widened in shock and fear as he struggled against his mental bonds. Pfeffer continued.
“There is nothing you can do. This is the life you’ve always wanted. Your adventuring days are over.”
And just like that, Kastayon, Moyaya and Pfeffer were thrust into Limbo’s White Abyss. The paper dissolved into the air as the Galka stumbled backwards. Kastayon gritted his teeth and put a hand to his head, a slow headache forming. Pfeffer stood only a few meters away; its garb changed to that of the Monk Artifact Armor and the Great Sword no where to be seen. Its hands were covered in binding as twin black claws were attached to the back of its hands.
“Hehehe. This’ll be fun.”
Before Kastayon knew it, Pfeffer had somehow disappeared from where it was standing and reappeared in front of him with its arm back and ready to slash his stomach open. The only thing Kastayon could do was fall backwards and let the blades slice over him. He gulped as he saw a few strands of his hair falling down onto his clothing.
“We couldn’t make a truce or anything, right?” He asked.
Pfeffer just grunted and punched downwards as Kastayon rolled away and back-flipped onto his feet again. He could barely keep on his toes as the apparition kept swiping at his torso until it was suddenly tripped up and fell to the floor, face first.
Kastayon took a couple of steps back to catch his breath as he saw Moyaya scurry away from the apparition’s form as well.
“He’ll be stuck on the ground for a while, my Bind is pretty good but it doesn’t last forever. C’mon, let’s get some distance. I have a lot of explaining to do.”
“I’ll say.” Kastayon said as he picked up the TaruTaru and started sprinting away from the downed apparition as fast as he could. He then started to wonder how large this ‘Limbo’ really was. The Monk kept going before Moyaya instructed him to slow down and stop. That she could feel her spell weakening already and they needed as much of a handle they could get on Pfeffer.
Setting the TaruTaru down, Kastayon sat down himself and folded his legs in front, trying to catch his breath.
“So, what’s the big secret around here?” He said.
Moyaya chewed on the inside of her mouth, considering her thoughts. “So far, I know that your friends have made it out of this Limbo safely. You are the only one left and it’s not looking so good.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
“I won’t be able to manifest this form much longer while we are in Limbo. Pfeffer took a risk of bringing you back here since this is a sort of halfway point of life and death. I wish I could help you fight him but it’s not my place to do so.”
Kastayon slightly frowned, “What do I have to do to get out of here then.”
“Fight, of course.”
“With wh-…oh, sorry.” The Galka smiled abashedly, forgetting his place for the moment. Moyaya giggled.
“Don’t worry. You’ll gain a better weapon when you know you’ll need it the most.”
Kastayon nodded. “I have one more question.”
“Yes?”
“What is it [i]exactly[/i] that we’re fighting?” Moyaya suddenly frowned and bowed her head a little, collecting her thoughts.
“What you’re fighting is a sort of undead magic manifestation, though, it’s not undead and it really didn’t manifest from magic.”
“Oh. Well, I’m so glad we’re having this conversation.”
“I’m not done yet!” She frowned as Kastayon put up his hands in apology. “There has been many deaths in the Gusgen Mines that have resulted in ghosts and animated living dead. Well, the spirits of these people only have the emotions of what they were feeling just before they died. A lot of the times, it was anger and hate. The Konschant War was not all Ginger Cookies and Rice Cakes.”
“I gathered…”
“These feelings, coming into raw form of spirits, ghosts and other such like, migrated towards an underground crystal vein that was connected to the Crag of Dem. They were sucked into that vein of pure magic and came together as a horrifying monster. For decades, spirits of negative emotions were drawn to the monster as it slowly fed on the vein.”
Kastayon bobbed his head, soaking in the information. “So what about the spirits who weren’t drawn to the power.”
Moyaya gave a sad smile, “We didn’t have much of a choice. We wanted to be left alone but the anger of the spirits chased us down or we fell into traps, being forcefully absorbed.”
“What about Arsen and Gwen.”
“Arsen was a one in a million case. He escaped the Mines, haunting the fields instead. He was only needed to get to Gwen. You’ve heard of a myth about the Crystals on the Crags, how they can teleport people places?”
“Heh,” Kastayon smiled, “It’s not so much a myth anymore. People have been doing it for as long as I can remember.”
“Oh, okay. Well that eliminates the explanation of that concept, but the thing is Gwen was one of the few White Mages who could manipulate the stream of pure white energies in the vein so that her magic was amplified almost a thousand fold. During the battle at the Crag of Dem, she was the most important player Bastok had to winning. Think of an army being healed instantaneously after you had dealt them a wound.”
“Th-that’s some…wow…” Kastayon breathed out, trying to fathom the idea.
“The monster however, having memories of those whom it had taken, knows about this and has tried for years to get her. If it was able to absorb that kind of power…”
“It could branch out through the vein itself, taking in every single soul in the mines, not to mention the whole Highlands after that costly war.”
“And we don’t even know how far the veins travel…”
“This….this is bad.”
“No, Pfeffer finally getting loose of my Bind is bad. This is Apocalyptic.”
Kastayon grimaced as he stood up and turned in the direction of whence they came.
“Whatever he throws, I’m sure I can beat him.”
Moyaya stood herself and dusted her robe. “It seems that no matter what, your life is full of fighting.”
“I would rather gain experience through trials than from a dusty old book. This is why I became an Adventurer. Although, you were the one who taught me that.” Kastayon smirked at the TaruTaru beside him.
“Your acquaintance of whom I resemble has a very good head on her shoulders to keep your dreams high as they are.” She gave sideways smile before her form started to fade.
“And that’s only the frosting.” A small dot on the horizon appeared into Kastayon’s view. Pfeffer was closing in, and fast.
“Fight for all that you believe in, Kastayon. Life is only as long as you make it.” Her words rang inside his mind as the apparition suddenly skidded to a halt in front of the Monk.
“Where’s the brat.” It demanded, hands twitching around the claws.
Kastayon stayed silent.
“I said, [i]where[/i] is the [i]brat[/i]!”
‘I would ask you to reconsider your words. My friend would not like being called a brat. That is, unless you [i]like[/i] going to the bathroom involuntarily in your pants.”
Pfeffer hurled forward and took two swipes at Kastayon who deftly dodged them with only stepping backwards and out of reach.
“Get out of the way. I have no time for you.” Pfeffer frowned. “My Master is becoming impatient with me and this interlude.”
Kastayon put his arms up, “Well, you do know that patience is a virtue.”
That seemed to cause a reaction as quicker than Kastayon had hoped, Pfeffer was attacking. He jabbed, sliced and thrust towards the Monk who had no way to block safely without having serious injuries along his arms and body. For all his years, Kastayon could feel that this was one of those days that he had been training for and he wasn’t about to be snuffed so easily.
All along the Limbo floor, the two combatants fought. Their grunts echoed only slightly but the stomps and pounds of their attacks held more staccato in the stale air. However, it soon became apparent that Kastayon was in trouble. While his large bulk made up of his strength and dexterity, he was having difficulties with the lithe apparition who danced away from every strike the Monk made while giving few bleeding injuries to its opposition as well. With the apparition having the weapons, Kastayon would figure that his arms would take the brunt of the attack, but as he slowly came to realize, the wounds were a little more severe than just flowing blood.
It started as the pain began to crawl along his arms. The Galka brushed it off as normalcy but had a change of mind when his heart started to beat abnormally fast. His mind was loosing focus as too much blood and adrenaline was being pumped through him at the same time. Pfeffer noticed this change and, after back flipping off of Kastayon’s chest from a recent attack, began to explain.
“It’s a simple poison, when applied, causes you to have a sort of seizure. But don’t worry, it’ll paralyze you first as you feel yourself dying. Slowly.”
What the apparition didn’t expect was to see Kastayon grimace…and then smile.
“I have a few tricks up my sleeve as well.”
He rushed forward, blindly punching and kicking so that Pfeffer had no way but to jump back from the reckless attack. As soon as he saw that the apparition was a far enough away, he quickly stomped his feet on the ground, clapped his hands together and concentrated. Immediately, most of the wounds began to heal by themselves. His body began to calm down, the natural chemicals once again balanced throughout. Pfeffer looked on, amazed that this Monk had a sort of healing ability about him.
“What a neat party trick.” It growled, “Too bad I won’t let you use it again!”
And Kastayon knew that it was right.
Thought that simple ‘trick’ had saved his life, it took a great deal of mental strength, much of which he needed to force himself from exhaustion. Now, he was going to have to rely on his strength of Will, and even that was fading quickly.
Pfeffer jumped back into the fray, tumbling around the hulking Galka so that he might stumble and land on a neatly placed claw blade. The Monk tried his hardest not to become a spinning top, giving himself distance and trying to calm his mind. He saw his chance as the apparition decided to jump off of his head and while the enemy was still in the air, Kastayon grabbed its ankle and, with all of his remaining strength, threw it to the ground.
The resulting sound of cracking bones that followed would have been a sure indication that it had died.
Pfeffer lay still.
Backing up just a few steps, Kastayon warily eyed the monster. Its eyes looked like it was only half awake, the arms and legs were splayed out spread eagle. He didn’t even want to know if there were any bones poking out of its skin. For a few more moments, Kastayon watched but the body never twitched.
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and rubbed his face with his hands. It was finally over. A simple opening was the apparition’s downfall and now Kastayon could breath easily again. So...now what did he do? How was he supposed to get out of here?
“Something isn’t right.” Kastayon remarked as he stared at his hands in front of him. A sudden terrible thought crossed his mind as he snapped his head up and uttered a loud curse.
Pfeffer’s body was gone.
Spinning around, the Monk’s instinct took over and caused him to lurch his head back, just as two claw blades hummed the air only centimeters away from his face. The smoking black trail of its weapons clouded Kastayon’s eyes…if only for a moment in time…
[i]“So…you really are leaving.”
“Will you miss me?”
“Of course I will! Why would you say that! You’re the smartest Professor in the world!”
“Ah…You praise me too much. But good try.”
“…Are you not scared?”
“Being an Adventurer is a big responsibility but the rewards are worth it. You will never find a person with the same reason of entering this world. We are alike and unique at the same time.”
“Then…Then I will become an Adventurer too! I’ll join you!”
“…Do you remember the last term paper you gave me?”
“I do.”
“’Time has been a blessing and a burden. When we are young, it can never move quick enough. When we are old, we do everything to stop it. But the one idea that everyone seems to miss is what to do with the time that is given. Life is only as long as you make it; what do you want to believe while we’re here in this time?’”
“Professor…”
“I believe that I’ve worn my welcome here in this city. It’s time for me to move on and seek other places of interest. You, however, have a great length to go but I can feel that we will meet again and it’ll be at that time when we’re both wizened creatures arguing like those old geezers we make fun of every so often.”
“…Promise?”
“Promise.”[/i]
The smoke cleared away and immediately Kastayon raised his arms for the next block, the claw blades meeting with two shield-like arm guards.
Kastayon gripped the handles as the edges were connected to the bulk of the weapon. The armor slash weapon was blunt, its beginnings covered his knuckles and wrapped itself around his hand, coming up the forearm and stopping just short of the elbow. It shone with a pale gold but the deep design of oak leaves and vines glittered in the white hue of Limbo and were, at the moment, being scratched against as the edges of a set of claws etching their own deadly pattern into them.
Pushing forward, the Monk forced Pfeffer back once more time and struck down, missing the apparition but creating a good sized crater on the floor. Raising his arm, Kastayon punched his fists together, ready for round two.
“Aces are wild it seems.” Pfeffer mocked. It knew that the tables were turning and it had to stop them before it lost favor.
And it began again, but with greater fervor.
Renewed with a strange sense of vigor, Kastayon forcefully batted away every strike it made towards him. He advanced with determination, knowing the playing field was even and he could win this fight if he pushed himself just a little farther.
Pfeffer could feel Kastayon find some sort of strength within him and began to grit his teeth. The Master said something like this would happen. It had over done it, leading to the mortal’s edge in the fight at the moment and now it could cost the Master time that it did not have. Creating the reign of destruction and a world of death was not easy. Yet, these mere people, who had accidentally stumbled upon one of the biggest keys of their plan, were defeating it and its brothers, one by one.
‘I’m not about to let this Galka walk over me. My brothers! If you can hear me, lend me the last of your power. I will serve us well with the Master!’
The first indication that something had changed was its eyes, suddenly filled with a blank and dazed look. The shadows among the claws now danced like flames instead of smoke and the apparition gained an aura, a sort of shocking crackle. Marks began to appear on its face, black, jagged lines cutting horizontally along its flesh. When Pfeffer spoke, it was a haunting mix of all of its brothers who had fallen before.
“Now, see what you’ve done? You’ve made. Me. Mad.” It said, punctuating the last of the sentence in a dark, playful manner.
Kastayon narrowed his eyes only slightly, expecting the worse and preparing the best he could mentally. What surprised him was that Pfeffer jumped back instead of immediately launching itself at him as it had time and time again. The apparition grinned, the lines on its face coming upward to meet the eyes, giving it a sort of deathly feeling to the expression.
“Your friends have fallen my ‘family’ as they have been sent to hell, their last ounce of life giving me the strength for my final attack. Be ready, because when I’m done, the Master will love having you in his army!” Pfeffer crossed its arms and with a grunt, flung them outwards in a downward arc. The claw tips scraped across the ground, leaving a noise that would crack glass.
Kastayon stared at the groove marks left on the ground until he heard a shout.
“BLOTTING SOULS!”
The ground where the marks were exploded open, leaving a gaping hole in the floor that held an inky blackness underneath. Pfeffer stood up and stepped back away from the hole as Kastayon decided to do the same.
The hole just lay there for a minute, the dark abyss becoming quite a contrast to the whiteness of Limbo.
The first cry that came, however, sent a paralyzing shiver up Kastayon’s spine.
It was a spirit floating up through the hole, lazy and slow. Pfeffer began to grin as the spirit turned towards Kastayon as he gasped. It looked just like a doll, no eyes, ears or nose and clad in only a tattered robe. The faceless being hovered for only a moment above the black nothingness as it studied the Monk with its non-existent eyes.
Then, it shot forward and stuck Kastayon in the chest. The pain he felt…was like death.
The spirit passed right through the Galka, but he stayed standing despite the sudden experience. Another shrill cry issued forth and another faceless spirit flew out of the hole, turned towards the Monk, and stuck him.
“Agh…Ahhhh!” Kastayon fell to the ground, gripping his chest and breathing hard. The pain! Oh, if this was what dying felt like! He wanted to cry it hurt so badly!
Another wail and another spirit came. His body arched from the ground and his eyes snapped open wide as the pain filtered through again. His screams were music to Pfeffer’s ears. The spirits kept coming, one by one; the Galkan’s body heaving and twisting along the ground as each spirit passed through him. The apparition’s grin toned down into a knowing smile. The Monk was going to die soon, and it couldn’t think of a better way to waste the mortal.
Silent tears were streaming down Kastayon’s face. The next spirit came but he couldn’t scream anymore, he had lost his voice too quickly and all that he could manage was a rasping whimper.
[i]“Life is only as long as you make it…”[/i]
‘Corilinos. Miraa. Shingen. I can’t give up. You’ve all made it passed this trial too…I won’t let you down!’
Rolling his body so that he lay on his stomach, Kastayon began to crawl, inch by inch to the hole, stopping every few moments to regain himself as each spirit passed through.
‘I won’t give up…I won’t give up…’
“Give up, Galka! Maybe when I’m done, the Master will let you be my second in command! Wouldn’t [i]that[/i] be fun!”
‘Counting…on me…I won’t give up.’ Kastayon, much to the amazement of Pfeffer, lifted his body up with his arms. “You have no right…to dictate who lives and dies.” He pulled himself up further so that now he was on his hands and knees.
“I have every right!” Pfeffer raised its voice; “I deserve it! I gave my life for my country and what do I get? Damnation! Now it’s [i]my[/i] turn to choose! It’s [i]my turn[/i]!”
“Wrong!” Kastayon growled, steadying himself on his feet, wobbling a little as a spirit ripped through him. “What reason do you deserve it? I can feel it. Selfish reasons. Pride, glory, money. All of these condemned you! You fought blindly, leaving your heart to rot on the field!”
Pfeffer roared, “[i]Silence[/i]! I fought for what I knew I could get! I fought for myself!”
[i]Fight for all that you Believe in…[/i]
“Then you fought wrong…” Kastayon stood upright, grimacing as the spirit went through. Mindless soldiers were the biggest casualties of war. Following their certain lust, following their greed but not their hearts. They had every right to be denied freedom of Heaven and Altana and Kastayon was going to play disciple just one time, praying that the Goddess would forgive him later.
“CLEANSING SUBLIMATION!”
The spirit that was about to pierce through his chest suddenly vanished as Kastayon punched his fists together. A golden hot light was emitted, forming a protective shield in front of him. All the spirits that tried to fly through shrieked as they were vaporized in an instance.
Pfeffer himself cried out in displeasure as it ran forward and jumped over the hole, heading straight towards Kastayon. The Monk gazed at the apparition, lifted his fists over his head and brought them down. A pale yellow power was then ripping across the ground, carving the floor and bringing ruin to all the spirits in its path. Pfeffer continued to charge forward, connecting its own fists together and then meeting Kastayon’s attack head on.
It was only able to stand the attack for a second, before the power overwhelmed the apparition and its screams died out as it disappeared into nothing.
Immediately after, the hole from the floor was swallowed up and closed, as was Kastayon’s attack.
The Galkan’s ears were met with deafening silence before he collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping for breath and feeling peace wash over him the first time in a long time.
He knew, though, that it wouldn’t last. It was time to go back…
And they were ready.
---===
[b]End Part II[/b]
---===
HAHA! Holy fudge nuggets! Yeah! So! That's the end of Part II. I hope it's okay so far. Part III will take longer because I haven't even written a letter of it yet but will be probably shorter than Part II. Maybe same length as Part I.
[u]Statistics as far:[/u]
Word Count: 31,160
Pages: 63 (10 Arial font)
This goes for the whole Part I and Part II as well.
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< Message edited by Koriandr -- 10/20/2007 2:06:53 AM >
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The forceps are manipulated by holding down the L-Button.
Zidane: It's a shame that the encouraging lady that I gladly serve has caught me being so uncool.
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| (in reply to Koriandr)
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