Disclaimer: I don't own Soulcalibur. No surprise.
Prologue
An inhuman roar reverberated through the empty halls, shaking the foundations of the cathedral. The sound of water flowing around the entirety of the structure continued its everlasting music and cascaded into the steep cliffs below, indifferent to the struggle of two combatants. Only the cathedral's flagged stone floor were thick with metallic shards and blood bore any hint of the ferocious battle.
Nightmare, the demon clad in azure armor, surveyed its challenger with its piercing red eyes. The sword it held in a monstrous claw writhed with living sinew, flesh and blood, on which a single bloodshot eye pulsed. Nightmare knelt to avoid a blow and launched itself into the air, only to have its attack deflected by a large crystalline blade.
Following this parry, the wielder of the crystalline blade, a man named Siegfried, charged forward with his blade upright like a wall. Nightmare fell back from this sudden attack, rusted helm and armor clattering on the stones.
Siegfried stumbled to his feet. His golden hair shone in the setting sun and his bloodied armor was shattered, with entire pieces torn off in the onslaught. Blinking away the blood and sweat that ran into his eyes, he swung his own blade to hew the demon claw's grip from the evil sword.
But the demon would not be defeated so easily. It rolled to the side to avoid the blow, and rose in a burning wrath. Turning around, it lunged with its sword raised in its armored hand. Siegfried, surprised by this sudden charge, leapt to the side to dodge the vertical slash. As he turned around, the cursed blade came again from the right and slashed a deep wound on his unprotected chest.
Siegfried gasped and collapsed onto one knee. He shook as he struggled to stay upright, hand clenching the fresh wound to stem the bleeding. But the wound was too severe; there was no more he could do to save himself. His vision blurred as the blood began pooling at his feet. Siegfried looked up to the form of Nightmare as it turned to face him, gloating with triumph as he fell at last, head slamming on the hard stones. Yet the pain of death was no greater than knowing he would die, hands stained with murder of thousands, his comrades…and his father. The false image of his father flashed before his anguished mind, telling him of a repentance that seemed impossible, of hope that was so frail, before vanishing into the depths of his tormented mind.
Siegfried glanced at the sword in his hand. It remained cold and lifeless; powerless against the monstrous blade of his opponent's. But he had to keep fighting, with or without the full might of the crystal sword. Without redeeming himself, he could not face those he killed unjustly. He would not let his journey of redemption be in vain, he could not...Clenching his teeth, he tightened his grip on the encrusted hilt with his remaining strength.
Nightmare's laughter echoed in the silent halls.
"This is the power you seek to redeem for your sins? It does not have any power to protect you, let alone save you from your madness. How can someone as cursed as you wield the holy blade? There is no redemption for the fool that you are. Now, fall into darkness you created yourself..."
Nightmare raised Soul Edge as the last rays of the sun faded, enveloping the cathedral in darkness. The red sword in its hand awoke, strengthened from the growing dark. Nightmare swept his blade downwards to behead its former host. With a yell, Siegfried swung the crystal blade upwards in an attempt to parry.
The crystalline blade, sensing the desperation of its wielder, erupted in blue flames. The core's fell blue light intensified as the evil blade came closer and closer…until it struck the glowing red edge.
For a moment, the water stopped flowing as a deathly silence filled the cathedral. From the center of the clash came a great flash of light as the air was being torn apart and was swallowed in the void. Before either of them reacted, the void vanished and sealed itself, sending a shockwave through the cathedral. The stone floor between the combatants collapsed into rubble, and Nightmare and Siegfried were blasted to the opposite sides of the cathedral room. Nightmare, armor rented and scorched, was thrown over the balcony and landed with a sickening splash in the pure waters of the cathedral. Siegfried, too, felt the heat of the explosion as he was blasted backwards to a metal grate and crumpled on the ruined floor.
"No…"
Siegfried lay on the ground buried in debris from the ruined cathedral. The shockwave had sent shards of his armor and metal through him. He could no longer recognize what remained of him. But he cared not. Thoughts of regret and his failed redemption assailed him. He had been so close…had he not been hindered by his wounds, he rued bitterly.
Even now the darkness was returning, claiming the one who had escaped from it for so long. Night fell upon the cathedral. With an anguished cry of failure upon his lips, Siegfried felt himself fade and saw no more.
How he longed to stay in the darkness everlasting, alone.
But why did peace still elude him?
Siegfried was vaguely aware of his consciousness as he drifted through the silence. Memories of his last battle seemed dim and the violent clash, no more than a distant echo. Though he was getting accustomed to darkness, part of him remained unyielding, refusing to accept that he was…that he was…
Wait.
Was this dark really there? He did not dare to open his eyes, if any existed to him, to find out.
A distant ringing could be heard, clear and rippling through his consciousness.
"Do you wish to repent?"
The voice was commanding and cold as moonbeams shining through mist. His consciousness shivered; without a corporal form, his thoughts, his fears and anguish were bared before the presence.
"What—what are you?"
"I am the Spirit Sword."
Siegfried trembled in shock. The sword ignored this, and spoke again.
"You are close, Siegfried Schtauffen. So close."
"No. I failed. There are no more chances. I have lost."
A blue glow flickered in the dark as the voice continued.
"I will give you your last chance. If you wish to return, you must bind your existence to me. If not, you are free to die. The world will be at the mercy of the Great Evil, and all those you wanted to protect will be consumed by it. They will be condemned to everlasting torment, and believe that the one could end it would not. Is that what you wish?"
"No! I cannot leave them to fight what I have unleashed upon them. I wish to end this evil. But how, how can you―?"
"I will heal you and return you to the cathedral. Though your wounds were grievous, I have the power to restore you. Bind your existence to me. You will not fail."
Siegfried hesitated. He did not know the true intentions of the sword. Holy or not, there had to be another reason why it had chosen him to end the cursed blade. But he dared not ask this moment. If he wanted repentance, there was no choice for him, only necessity.
The blade ignored his thoughts again and pressed him to answer.
"Do you accept?" it asked again.
"…I accept."
A soft blue glow in the depths of the dark appeared, and grew until he was surrounded by it.
That light---
It could not be…
A blue beam flickered past his eyelids.
What is happening to me? Why am I…?
Siegfried slowly opened his eyes. He was lying face down on the ruined stone floor.
He tried to take a breath, but quickly gasped in pain, now aware of the frigid air and his sustained injuries. Raising his head, he saw Soulcalibur, planted in the ground in front of him, blue and cold.
He did not rise, but remained where he was, trying to remember.
He fought Nightmare and suffered near-fatal wounds. Soul Edge and Soulcalibur clashed and erupted in a cataclysmic burst of energy. But what became of him? How was he able to survive the ordeal? Why was he allowed to return, alive? Even as Siegfried was confounded with these new thoughts, the pain from his injuries lessened.
Examining his wounds once more, he realized they now appeared to be several days old. Even as he watched, the cuts and flayed skin on his hand slowly disappeared. He moved his hand to his chest. Though that wound was still deep and raw, that too, was healing.
Siegfried rose to his feet and drew Soulcalibur from the rubble. Upon his touch, the blade awoke. The core shone with a blazing blue light. Though he shielded himself from the growing light, he did not withdraw his hand. The hilt grew icy cold and a wind from the core enveloped and repaired his broken armor, before hardening into a shining layer of crystal.
Siegfried raised the gleaming sword to the brightening skies. The sun rose like flames over the horizon as the last of the stars faded from the heavens. Since his journey to darkness, the true dawn was a gift; its gold signaled the purity that still remained on Earth. But there was no time to enjoy this brief moment of peace when he knew of the storm that stood between him and his fate. Without a moment's hesitation, Siegfried turned around and began his descent from the charred ruins of the cathedral.
So the sword had kept him alive long enough to fulfill his duty. He accepted its offer, and there was but one path open to him. His last chance. This time, he would not fail.
-Chapter End-
A/N
That's it for now. Comments, constructive criticism are welcome, as are questions. And, since this is my first fanfic, flaming is discouraged _. As you might have guessed, I wrote this right after SCIV came out, but I wasn't too happy with it and have been rewriting bits of it ever since. This is still a work in progress, but I hope I can finish this someday!
Chapter one is in rough draft. Sorry for not submitting it with the prologue (like I should).
I am currently looking for a beta reader, I can't always catch my mistakes you know = . =
Frink out.