Chapter 1: Souls
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The fog was never this thick.
From the distance came the dull sounds of hoarse hooves, as they trotted over the wet ground. She stood, watching the endless fog, waiting for the sound creators to emerge. It was then that gray, ominous shadows, slowly started to form into horses and men.
They walked by her, row on row, carrying their dead. Heads were bowed in shame and defeat. Avoiding her gaze as they walked past. She scanned the men, her eyes darting this way and that, trying desperately to see their faces, searching for her father. But to no avail, each time her gaze was caught by one of the men, they looked away, in sorrow.
"Father! Father, where is my father!" She called out, begging the men to tell her.
Her gut twisted at the dawning realization.
Her father would never reply.
She hugged herself as an ice cold breeze flew through, and silance replaced the retreating horses' hooves.
This time, the monsters and demons would not go away.
They are here for a purpose, and will kill everything and anyone to attain it.
"Princess! Princess, please get inside the safety of the castle" came the desperate plea of a chamber maid.
"It dose not matter now, were all doomed" the princess muttered under her breath.
All it took was a jerk, as the maid took hold of the princesses' arm, to bring her back from her thoughts.
"Princess please, the Druids are soon going to cast a spell over the castle to protect it!" The maid explained anxiously.
The young girl looked over at the maid, her emerald green eyes were dulled with hopelessness and despair. Could the Druids protect the sought out treasure with their magic?
After a moment of listing to the chamber maids constant plea for them to retreat back into the stone walls, the princess started back. The pungent aroma of blood and rotting flesh filled her nose, as the princess entered the court yard. Gasping for fresh air, the princess covered her nose and winced at the sight of her fathers' soldiers.
Men screaming out in pain as the acid burned the flesh right off their bones. Human blood flowing freely over the cobblestones, like a miniature stream. Moaning and groaning echoed throughout the stone walls, and the blur of Shamans and Druid potion makers, as they tried to save the lives of men.
This was the horror that her people feared would come.
And it did, and it showed no mercy.
"Princess, please, you should not be seeing this." The maid whispered, as she ushered the other girl into the castle.
The iron doors groaned against each other as they opened. Men and woman swarmed, like flies on dead meat, over the princess. Showering her with condolences and heartfelt words over the loss of their king.
"Do not worry princess, the Druids will protect us with their magic" another maid said with the utmost confidence.
"I hope so..." The princess replied.
She knew the Druids tried everything to keep the monsters and demons away, spells, magic incantations, talismans, curses. Sending men to battle was their latest, and her fathers, last resort.
No more offensive, now is the time for defense. She knew now, as the heir to the throne, that her number one concern should be about her people, and protecting the remainder who were alive.
"You have nothing to fear princess, our magic barrier will withstand the strongest attacks" one Druid warrior monk confirmed. "Already some of our most advanced monks are conjuring the spell up"
The group stepped out onto the balcony, the same balcony that she saw her father use many times before to address his people. She looked down at the horrid scene of men dying or are already dead.
No more, she wanted no more.
"Proceed with the spell when ready" she ordered, her voice barely audible.
The monk nodded, putting his hands in a prayer, closing his eyes and starting to chant. The princess closed her eyes as well, taking in the chant, the deep throated voices that moved the earth.
"Please, please let this work" the girl prayed.
But the gods never heard her cry.
Screams and blood curling cries forced the princess out of her prayer. On upon opening her eyes, she was greeted with a discerning sight. The monk who started the chant was gasping for air, as an arrow protruded out of his neck, blood flying everywhere. But before the scene was processed, the monk was dead.
"Never more will the light shine, darkness will prevail!" Came an ominous voice, deep as the death, but ran shivers down the spine of the strongest soldiers.
Flying above their heads was a sight that would give even the devil nightmares. Its flesh hanging off the bones, just barely. Blood red eyes that could pierce the most willful soul. Wings that could over power Bahumat, the King of Dragons. In its clawed hands, held the crossbow that fired the killing shot. Fangs, sharper than swords, bared and a forked tongue whipping the air as it hissed at the terrified crowd.
This was one of the monsters that hunted for its master.
No, where was the demon lord.
"Get inside..." Breathed the maid. "Princess, get inside..."
To scared to move, to frightened to breathe. This was what her father warned her about, this was what the end looked like.
To fast to see, something shot down the creature, a weapon creating a blue light.
The creature wailed in pain as it disintegrated and turned to dust. The princess looked down and saw their last resort. Druid monks running into the court yard, firing arrows from their enchanted crossbows, yelling battle cries as more of those monsters dived. She watched in a sick interest, it was only when her maid pulled her in, did her eyes look away.
But running was not enough.
The monks charged the castle in order to find the item and protect it. But it was becoming futile.
From out of the sky it came, darkness coward in its presence. It was evils' essence, it was hells guardian. Holding its scythe with price, it descended on the castle.
This was the Soul Stealer, Deaths demon.
The group ran, the princess looking over her shoulder, at the monks as they tried to hold back the monsters.
"Princess hurry! Hurry we must es-" the maid gasped, not finishing her sentence.
The princess looked up at the hooded figure as its hand pulled the maids soul from her body, and ate it. The maid dropped dead, eyes lifeless, her skin pale s snow. Her life take away.
"No!" Came the monks horrid cry.
The Soul Stealer raised his scythe, preparing to make the killing blow to the princess.
To scared to move, to frightened to breathe, the princess took her last stand, as the scythe came down. But the blue lights saved her, flying past, hurdling themselves as the figure. Striking it down one by one.
The demon squealed in pain, as the purified arrows shoot it down. The monk ran over, turning the princess roughly to face him.
"Where is it? Is it safe?" He asked in a demanding tone.
"What, where is what?" The princess replied, still shaken with her near death experience.
"The sword, where is the sword woman!" he yelled again
"What sword! What are you talking a-" she stopped, realizing what he was talking about.
For as long as she could remember, her father always prided himself with a sword. A blade that he kept in its sheath above the mantle in the war room. The blade always brought mystery to the young girl, as she would stare it for hours, trying to think which prince save a princess with that blade. Making up tall tales about dragons and monsters and love. Little did she know, that this blade could be the source of all the wrong doing in this world.
"I-in the war room, above the fire place" the princess spouted out.
"Take me there!" The monk demanded, pushing the girl forward roughly, trying to get her moving.
The stone corridor was too long, longer than she could remember. Maybe it was because she wanted to get that blasted sword out of her palace, out of her life. Or maybe it was because of the anticipation. What if the monsters already have hold of the blade? What if they are just waiting there, waiting to show and boast about the fact that they got here first, and now have what they want. Whatever was going through her head stopped when they arrived at the wooden door, that separated the corridor from the room up ahead.
"This is it...My fathers war room" the princess panted, since they ran all the way here.
The monk roughly pushed opened the door and walked inside. The princess followed tentatively, fearing to be alone in this time of danger.
She forgot what the room looked like, since the battle began there were less and less times she was allowed to go inside and day dream. It seemed as if her father lived in this room during the last few weeks of his life. The long rectangular table stood there, dusty and eaten at by termites and age, the chairs seemed to have dissapered probably used for the fires. Banners of her country hanged on the stone walls, proud and worn throughout the years, the colours were faded and barely there it seemed. Like the memory of her family, and people. But there, hanging above the mantel was the prized object, the sword that both man and beast were after, and it seemed time dared not touch it.
The sheath was a deep purplish blue colour decorated with a silver metal and a crystal at the end where the tip of the blade was supposed to be. The handle of the sword was pure gold, or as she was told, decorated in what looked like ancient designs of the past. She always remember that her father told of a man, a great man, whom first held this sword. How he freed his people from the clutches of evil the first time, but died of the same evil the last, and how the sword was unbreakable, and full of holy light and such. But none of that stuck with her, she did not care of what the blade ment to her people, or how or where it came from. Now she just wanted the accursed blade of her sight, and away from her land.
The monk reached up and snatched the sword from its place on the wall, took off his cloak and wrapped the blade in the cloth, making sure that all of it was covered. Then tied it off with his shoe lace, once secure he handed it off to the princess, who held it in her hands as if it was poison.
"Take this blade, and bring it back to the Lady of the Lake. You hear me child, this blade must go back to the Lady, because if they get it, the whole world is doomed" the monk explained as he roughly grabbed her shoulders and shook them.
"Why should I do it? Why can't you?" The princess asked as she looked at the blade in astonishment, then back at the monk.
"Because, this blade was passed though your family, and she will only take it back if the one who it has been passed to, gives it to her!" The monk explained frantically. He looked about the room as though he saw something, then hesitantly he looked back at the girl. "Now go! There is no time to waste!" Then before he could usher her out the door, the stone wall on the far side exploded, and there stood one of the rotting monsters.
"Princess run, I shall take care of this monstrosity!" The monk yelled, as he whipped out his cross bow and aimed it at the beast. "Take heed, and run!" Then fired one of the sacred arrows into the belly of the demon, sending the monster into a fit of wailing cries.
Fear would not freeze her this time, the princess dashed out of the door and ran down the corridor and to the kitchen, where she could get to the stables through the servant quarters. The sword was clenched in her hands, and the blood there throbbed as her grip tightened. As she dashed through the door to the lower levels, she snatched herself one of the servants riding cloaks and put that one. The princess maneuvered through the small quarters and soon she found herself out the back door and into the stables. The noise of the battle going on outside echoed throughout the wooden shed, making the horses frightened and skittish. The girl walked up to one brown stallion with a black mane, and hushed it back to a calm state, then mounted the animal.
"Make the wind jealous" she whispered into the horses ear.
The barn doors burst open and fury of splinters as the dark horse ran out of the stables and into the battle that was brewing. The steed flew past the monks and the monsters that battled out on either side of him, no one seemed to noticed the escaping princess and the sword that was so sought out. The stallion flew through the front gates and then, freedom.
The wind was a sort of, comforting feeling that differed from the stale death air that settled inside the castle walls. The sky, oh how long has it been she saw the blue sky, the gray clouds the settled over the palace was enough to wish for death itself, and she guessed someone did. The princess slowly allowed the horse to slow down a bit, so she can enjoy the wind in her face and hair, and scent of clean air, and the sky, the blue sky.
But, that should soon come to an end.
A shadow loomed over head, dispite the clouds being dangerously dark and the sky overcast, nothing on this earth could make a shadow that was this big.
Thought the voice in her head was begging her not to look, her curiosity got the best of her. Emerald eyes gazed up over her shoulder and there it was, fear itself.
The reaper was fast to catching up with them, his shadow already on top of them. The light of the cloudy sun cast a sheen on the scythe that was in the clutches of his bony hands. Death lingered in the air, as the pungent scent stung her nose, causing all the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.
Fear and determination mixed in with the adrenaline rush of staying alive, possessed her push the horse to go faster, faster than it was going before and fast enough to out run the looming shadow. She needed to stay alive! She had to stay live! For the sake of her people, for her fathers revenge, for everything, she needed to get this sword back to the lake!
Then as though the gods were listening to her there it was the lake. A small lake at that, it looked as if no one had visited in years, weeds had overgrown on the bank and crab grass patched the area. That was heaven to her, the safe haven that would bring peace and calm to everyone that is already in this war.
Just a little further, a few more feet and she could reach her goal.
She did not see it coming. She then whipped forward and flung off her horse, landing with a tumble on the grass. The sword still in her hands. The princess groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head, she found the tender spot where she might have hit a small rock hidden in the grass. Her eyes came upon the horrid sight of her poor horse. The reaper had finally caught up to them. In a desperate attempt to slow them down, he slashed off the horses hind legs with his scythe. The poor beast lay there, helpless and neighing for mercy, but there was nothing she could do, nothing she could do as the reaper reached into the horses' chest and plucked out its soul. Slowly the demon devoured the horses' soul, taking its sweet time to savor what taste a soul had.
This was her chance, if her legs could just cooperate, she could run over there and drop the cursed sword into the lake and never, never, have to see it again.
Just seeing her horse get slaughter by the demon was enough to get her adrenaline rushing. With the sword tightly in her clutches, she got back up on her feet, turned about and ran towards the muddy looking lake as fast as she could run.
Then it seemed as though everything slowed down to just a fraction of a second.
Her heart beat seemed to echo though out the field, and not just in her ears. Her foot steps softly pounded on the grass floor, and even though it seemed as if she was running fast enough, it felt as if she was not getting anywhere. All her senses where heightened to their peak, her ears picked up the flutter of robes, as the reaper spotted her, leaving the dead horse and started the final chase.
Every step seemed futile, every breath seemed to be her last, her mind was empty as the only thought that ran though her mind was "Almost there, almost there..."
Time finally stopped, as she caught her breath. She watched as her arm threw the sword towards the lake, and at the same time an ear splitting pain racked through her body. Slowly she took her last, and final breath, as her eyes watched as the blade broke the lakes icy glass exterior, her arms went limp as her lips slowly parted. Soon all life left her limbs and left with her breath as it escaped out of her parted lips. Her body went limp, being held up by the pain that was becoming too overbearing to keep living.
The reaper slowly pulled his scythe from out of her back, letting the princess fall into the grass, her blood pooling around her.
Before her vision vanished, she saw a hand slowly come out of the water, lifting the blade high in the air. The hand showed her, before she left this mortal world, that, yes, she did what destiny wanted her to do. Now she can die in peace.
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I didn't know if I should put this here or the original fiction site. Because this isn't a fanfiction about any final fantasy character. Just a final fantasy story that I thought up! So, all items that are involved with any final fantasy games are copyrighted to Square Inc. themselves, everything else is mine! Enjoy, and I hope you like.