LEGALITIES: I DO NOT OWN SOUL CALIBUR 1 OR 2 OR ANY CHARACTERS THEREOF. THIS LEGAL DISCLAIMER IS FOR THIS CHAPTER AND EVERY CHAPTER OF THE FANFICTION THEREAFTER. I AM MAKING NO MONEY OFF THIS WORK, NOR RECEIVING ANY ROYALTIES THEREOF.
[]- Indicates thought.
* *- Indicates telepathy.
Hello once again, my fellow fanfiction.net readers! This is the prequel to "Falling through Nightmare." This story takes place after the battle at Travens Castle, and will explain everything! It will be much longer than "Falling through Nightmare", and will set the stage for the sequel, " Core of Reality" that I will be writing after it is done. Should have wrote this first, but "Falling Through Nightmare" caught my attention first.
For you Sophitia fans, read this chapter and you won't hate me like you do. I was playing Soul Caliber II last night, and a brilliant idea hit me. Read the chapter and you'll find out why Sophitia is a "crazy-ass bitch."
Note that my story occurs after Soul Caliber 1. The idea is that when Xianghua, Kilik, and Maxi attacked Nightmare, they threw him into the void. Siegfried escaped mostly intact, appearing back in the real world in the Black Forest of Germany. That gets explained later in the story.
With that done, it's...
"SHOWTIME!"
Chapter 1
New Beginnings, New Journeys
Siegfried and Ivy stood at the crossroads where they had first met, wondering what to say next. The rolling hills and plains of England stood all around them, bright in sunshine. Birds sung, and a light breeze blew. In short, it was a beautiful day.
[ Father always said that a pretty day is a bad day for goodbyes,] Siegfried thought before saying, " Hey, Ivy."
She turned to him. She herself was confused as to what to say next, and so accepted the opportunity gratefully. " Yes?"
" Where are you heading next?"
Ivy considered for a moment. She had hunted Voldo down because she needed the cash for a boat. London was a huge port town, and she needed to buy passage onto a ship headed for Navare, a port town in Portugal. From there, she would head east into Spain. Before passing away, her mother, the Countess Valentine, had told her that the Valentines weren't her true parents. Ivy remembered that night well- she kept seeing it in her dreams.
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It was raining outside. No lightening or thunder, just a steady rain. Ivy had went into her mother's bedroom, where Countess Valentine spent all her time anymore. She was too weak to walk. Death would come to her soon. Ivy wanted to spend a little more time with her before she was taken away. Ivy had brought supper to her on a little ornate tray. Her mother had waved it aside, and as Ivy placed it on the nightstand beside the canopied bed her mother had spoken. Her voice was weak and tired.
" Isabella."
Ivy looked at her. Her parents had called her Ivy for years, a nickname that had just sprung up one day when her father remarked that she grew like an ivy vine. Her mother would have normally called her Ivy, setting her on edge.
" Yes, Mother?"
Countess Valentine patted the side of the bed weakly with her left hand. As Ivy sat down on it, the Countess took her left hand (smooth and unwrinkled, a hand both dainty and strong) in her own (a wrinkled, old hand that had seen too many hard days). She started to talk, her voice barely above a whisper.
" Isabella, we have raised you as our daughter for years. I love you, as mothers should love their daughters, and your father loved you too, before he passed away." Here her eyes darkened slightly. The loss was still fresh, in both her mind and Ivy's. " We have raised you as our own daughter. But..."
Ivy was a very intelligent woman. Her mind, already on edge from being called by her first name, put itself in red alert. Something was up, and she had an idea what it was. Her voice trembled as she said, " What?"
" We are not your true parents. Your father was on a trip in Spain when a man came to him with you in his arms. You were barely two. He was your real father. He gave you to my husband and begged him on his knees to take you far away from Spain and raise you. My husband did so. That man left only two things to you: your first name and a key."
Countess Valentine took her weak hand from Ivy's numb ones and pointed at a picture on the far wall. It was one of Count Valentine, smiling and handsome. She continued speaking, her finger still pointed at the picture.
" My husband said that the man looked like a sailor or pirate, and wore two swords on his belt. One was a pistol sword, like the Spanish Navy favors. The other... my husband never described what it was, but he said that it felt wrong to him. The man kept glancing at it, as if he was afraid it would jump out of it's scabbard and attack him. My husband took one look at the man, frightened almost out of his wits, it seemed, and took you back. That was 25 years ago."
" The key the man left opens a mansion in Valencia. The man told my husband that when you were old enough, to tell you about it. We were to let you choose whether to find out about your birth father or not. I would have told you sooner, but my husband passed away first." She coughed here, her still-outstretched finger trembling. " The key is inside that painting. Cut open the breast-pocket."
Raising, her mind and body still numb with shock, Ivy took a letter opener from the desk and slit open the breast-pocket portion of the painting. A bronze key lay behind it, a small portion of the wooden back of the painting cut out to cleverly conceal the key and make the picture look flat from the front. The key was shaped like an anchor, and a small, orange topaz gem, cut into a diamond shape, was inset at the top of the anchor. Ivy could feel an enchantment about it. She took it out and looked at it, her mind wondering what to make of all this.
" Your birth father said that the mansion in Valenica holds the truth of your heritage. He said it was your choice. To find out... or not."
Her mother, her hand covering her mouth as she coughed again, suddenly started to cry softly. Tears came down her wrinkled face (old before it's time, aged with worry and disease) as she said, " I know I'm not your real mother, but I feel like it. I love you, Isabella. I just wanted you to know that before I die."
Ivy started crying too. She sat down on her mother's bed and hugged her. " I love you, Mother. Even if your not my birth mother, your my real one just the same."
Her mother cried with her, and then she said, " Ivy, you will be alone soon. I'm dying. Your father... he ruined us with his search for the Soul Edge. I don't know why that sword possessed him like it did. You can't rely on our money. All that's left has been eaten up by taxes and paying the doctor's bills. Your father taught you the sword and Alchemy. It's sad that anyone has to fight to live, but life is hard. You can do what you want. Your will makes your own destiny."
Hugging Ivy one last time before letting go, she said the last thing, one that stayed with Ivy even in the darkest times.
" I'm proud of the woman you've become. And remember, your father is in Heaven now, watching you. He is with you no matter what. Remember that."
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Ivy had done research and found the fastest way into Valencia was through Navare. Valencia lay on the Portugal-Spain border, far in the south. She would take a merchant ship to Navare, and from there she would cross the border going east into Valencia. Spain and Portugal were on relatively friendly terms at the moment, so travel between the two should be simple. She'd planned on doing it alone, but traveling with Siegfried had been a lot more enjoyable. Besides, there would be dangers involved.
But she didn't know whether to trust him or not.
" I'm going to London. We need to pick up our bounty from Scotland Yard."
Siegfried nodded. " Yeah. I have the proof here." He raised a bag up. The bag had a rather gruesome trophy: Voldo's head. Siegfried hated this part of bounties the most; dragging back various body parts was never fun, especially when the smell started. Hopefully they'd reach Scotland Yard before then.
" Where are you going from there?"
Ivy shrugged. She wasn't going to tell him just yet. " I don't know."
Siegfried shrugged and grinned. " Amazing. We have the exact same destination."
Ivy half-smirked. " Let's get going. I don't want that," she pointed at the bag, " to start smelling rotten. The bag will keep the worst of it out, but still."
Siegfried nodded. " Yeah." He snorted and said, " Don't you just love this? Go to a castle, fight a demon, cut someone's head off, drag it back... life's just wonderful."
Ivy laughed. " Absolutely."
They headed off together, walking towards London.
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Athens, Greece.
Sophitia looked about her. The mountains of Athens were both beautiful and harsh. Here, at the temple of Hephaestus, she could view them in all their glory.
She sighed. Once more, Fate had delivered her here. It seemed that Fate had taken a particular liking to her. She wished it would leave her alone.
Although no one in Athens would have believed it, Sophitia did not worship the gods anymore. She knew the truth now. Her gods were merely powerful spirits, greater than humans but in no more control of the world than mortals. She wondered at times if there were real gods, or if the world was really just guided by blind Fate. The people of Greece believed Sophitia was the chosen of the gods, the warrior goddess who had saved them all. After destroying the first Soul Edge and being helped home by Taki, the people had showered her family with gifts. Her parent's bakery had doubled it's business. Rothion's blacksmith work had increased to the point he had three other master blacksmiths helping him, with thirty apprentices, just to keep up with the work. After returning from her second journey ( someone else had destroyed the other Soul Edge) and having two children, she thought she could finally rest.
But it was not to be.
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Many customers, knowing of Rothion's skill at identifying metals, had been bringing shards and pieces of metals they found, hoping to be told it was a rare and precious metal. Most of it was normal iron, but sometimes a customer brought in rarer stuff. One particularly happy customer had brought in a chunk of pure mythril silver that Rothion had paid him quite well for. He still had it, saving it for a special project.
But yesterday, someone had brought in a very different fragment. No one, in the hustle and bustle of the shop, had seen who it was. No one had known anything was wrong until Sophitia had fallen to the floor.
The shop had two sections: a smithy in back where the work was done, and a service area up front. This was a simply made stone area where customers came in the front door and walked up to a counter Sophitia usually stood behind. She wrote down the orders, gave them to Pyrrha (who was always present behind her mother), who gave them to Rothion. Rothion, in back, was busy training Patroklos to inherit the smithy. Patroklos was showing great skill at it, and enjoyed being with his father.
In the hustle and bustle, Sophitia hadn't seen the hand, slipped out quickly and just as quickly slipped back, that placed the glowing red fragment on the counter. She just felt the sudden, debiliating pain in her stomach. The old wounds there, where the foul sword had pierced her body after being shattered ( they had healed, but formed ugly scars on her stomach), flared to terrible, painful life. She fell over, choking back a scream. Pyrrha had yelled, asking her what was wrong, Mommy, what was wrong. The customers stopped, looking at the hero of Greece and wondering what was happening. Patroklos and Rothion had run in from the shop, hearing Pyrrha's shout.
" What's wrong? Pyrrha? Sophitia?" Rothion had said, his voice full of worry. He was a man of large build, his muscles from the smithy flexing. He was a big, clean-shaven man, with a firm Roman nose and jaw. His good looks had placed him as one of the most wanted men in Athens, but his eyes had ever been (even before she became a hero) for Sophitia. His brown eyes shown with worry.
Sophitia couldn't speak. The pain was too much. If she opened her mouth, she would scream.
It was then that Patroklos would gaze at the fragment on the counter. He heard a siren voice in his head, and though he lived a long life, he would never feel that terrible, aching emptiness again. An emptiness that only the fragment could feel. He reached for it, ignoring his wounded mother.
His sister, however, had seen it too, and the same voice called her. She reached for it, and being quicker, took it before her brother. Patroklos looked at his sister, and completely unaware he would do it until it was over, he yelled at her.
" GIVE IT BACK, YOU BITCH!"
His voice was not his own. The Soul Edge, it's fragment working on him, had given him the madness it granted all. The fragment glowed as he yelled. Pyrrha, taken with it as well, screamed back.
" NO! IT'S MINE!"
Rothion and the customers were completely dumbfounded. Here their mother was lying on the floor, apparently crushed with pain, and they were fighting over a fragment? Yes, it glowed, but so did certain other metals. What was going on?
Sophitia spoke first. Her maternal love overrode her pain for the moment, and Rothion caught a glimpse of the Valkyrie in her soul. Her determination flared.
" PUT IT DOWN!"
The children stopped. The siren voice in their minds stopped. The fragment itself had cowered before the command in that voice.
" Give it to me." Sophitia, ignoring the pain, stretched out her hand. Pyrrha, totally shocked, gave it to her. The pain flared briefly, then dulled to a low ebb. Sophitia stood up, grimacing. Turning to the customers, she said, " You had better leave now. It's not a good idea to stay here, near this." She looked at the fragment in her hand as she did so. It's glow, dimmed but not diminished, painted her face red. In that moment, viewing her, Rothion thought she looked old. Very old. A woman who had faced too much in her life, and wanted to rest.
The customers, dumbfounded for the most part (and scared as well), left with much mumbling and talk. After they were gone, she turned to her children.
" Listen to me," she said. They stared at her, scared. They hadn't been able to stop themselves, or do anything at all but what the fragment said. They looked at her, as children will at their parents, sure they can fix anything. " This fragment is pure evil. If you ever see anything like it, ignore the voice in your mind and run. Run as fast as you can to your father. Understand?"
They nodded, mute. Their eyes seemed huge to Sophitia. She was dizzy from the sudden pain and the weariness that suddenly weighed on her.
" Rothion," she said, turning to him. He looked at her, his eyes scared. He was a strong man, sure he could handle any physical problem, but this was beyond him. He once more felt the barrier between him and his wife, the barrier her travels and adventures- her life outside him- had raised. Their were some bridges he could not cross.
" I have to leave. I'm going to need my sword and shield back."
He said, " What? Sophitia, what is happening?"
She shook her head.
" I don't know. But I'm going to find out."
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She had reached this mountain retreat by traveling all day and night. Now, tired though she was, she gripped the fragment in her right hand and ascended the last few steps. Turning, she glared at the statue of Hephaestus, the supposed "god" of fire and forge (Hephaestus was actually a fire elemental). She looked at it, and threw down the fragment.
" What in all the hells is this?" she demanded.
Hephaestus's voice came, as it always did, from within her mind.
* WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?*
" That's exactly what I'm asking you."
* YOU IMPERTINENT, UNGRATEFUL MORTAL. WHAT UNHOLY THING HAVE YOU-*
" Spare me the "greater than thou" talk. We both know the truth. Now, I ask you again: What is this? Is it what I think it is? Because I'm pretty sure that it's a fragment of the same sword you told me the Omega Sword would destroy!"
The elemental said nothing for a while, considering. In truth, the elemental was scared. It had created the Omega Sword by placing much of it's power in the sword. That sword represented the peak of it's strength. And if it couldn't truly destroy the Soul Edge...
Then the elemental had a thought, a thought it seized immediately. This thought was comforting, as it allowed for the fragments and the elemental's omnipotence (like many elemental beings, it was hard for Hephaestus to consider something as more powerful than it).
* PERHAPS IT IS A FRAGMENT OF THE SECOND SWORD, THE ONE YOU DID NOT DESTROY.*
Sophitia looked at the floor, thinking. She'd considered that as well. " It probably is. After all, it's been four years since I destroyed the first Soul Edge. If the first fragments were alive, I'd have gotten wind of it sooner. It's just one year after the second sword's destruction. Looks like Maxi's group screwed it up."
Hephaestus, not knowing who this "Maxi" was, ignored the comment and spoke to her again.
* THEN YOU MUST FIND THE FRAGMENTS AND DESTROY THEM.*
" Yeah, I thought you'd have me do that," she said, with no real bitterness. " This thing tried to possess my children. I'm going to break them all to pieces for that crime." She walked over to where the Omega Sword and the Elk Shield lay. As she reached for them, she said, " You know, you could find-"
She was interrupted by the fires that suddenly shot up all around her when she touched the hilt of the Omega Sword. She tried to jump back, but her hand was stuck on the blade. Not knowing what was happening, she jerked back, yelling as the fires reached her. It covered her body, but did not harm her. Instead, it burned her mind. Hephaestus hated Sophitia, hated her arrogance towards it and her attitude.
So it decided on a little mind alteration.
Part of the fire elemental entered her, trickling through the recesses of her mind and coating her emotions. It didn't destroy them (it was not powerful enough for that), but rather covered them up. Sophitia's emotions, save for hatred and anger, were ruined so long as Hephaestus held sway in her mind. The elemental laughed as she struggled against it, then went limp. The fires covered her mind and she blacked out.
The fires burned for a while, then went out. Sophitia stood up, her mind newly "cleansed" by Hephaestus' invading fires. She grasped the hilt of the Omega Sword and picked up the Elk Shield, and walked out of the temple. Hephaestus' laughter echoed all around the mountain, carrying with the wind and following Sophitia's descent down the mountainside.
In the temple, forgotten, the fragment of Soul Edge glowed faintly as it hid itself from Hephaestus' searching mind. It would be found by a monk later, and taken back towards Athens. Back towards Sophitia's family.
Towards her sister.
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Mainland Asia, somewhere south of present-day Russia.
Taki walked down the dirt road heading towards Europe. A road that Marco Polo had traveled across years before, when he had sought out China, the land of fabled treasure. The former Fu-Ma No Sato ninja was heading back towards Europe with a mission. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
On her back lay her twin swords, Rekki-Maru and Mekki-Maru. But of them, only one was important to her. Mekki-Maru, her demon sword.
And her new goal in life.
Years before, Taki had aided a Greek woman named Sophitia (who, surprisingly, had become Taki's best friend) in defeating Cervantes. She'd helped her home, thinking the second Soul Edge would die with the first. She'd taken five shards from Sophitia's wounded body, and had left after Sophitia recovered. She and Sophitia had become sisters of a sort. She'd kept the shards, mementos of their journey together.
Then, she'd come across Mekki-Maru. Nowhere near as strong as the Soul Edge, it was still a demonic weapon. She thought that pitting the shards against Mekki-Maru would destroy both weapons. A poetic justice, evil defeating evil. But instead of being destroyed, Mekki-Maru merely became stronger. She had kept the sword, wondering day and night what to do with it.
Then, she'd heard of the second Soul Edge being carried by a European knight. Knowing that Sophitia would go after it, Taki had set out for Europe, hoping to help her. But it was over before she got there. She headed back to Asia. And one night, heading back home, she decided to control Mekki-Maru instead of destroying it.
She trained for days on end, wielding the demonic weapon until it was a part of her body. And without knowing it, she had fallen in love with it's power. She was enraptured by the strength of Mekki-Maru to the point she had left the Fu-Ma No Sato ninjas because Toki was after it. She had killed many former comrades over the blade, and never felt remorse. Mekki-Maru was, after all, her's.
She was heading back to Europe because she'd heard that more fragments were turning up. She wanted Mekki-Maru even more powerful. And so, with the wind and silence that are a ninja's only true companions, she walked onward.
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Shrine of Palgaea, under the headquarters of the Order of Fygus Cestemus.
The shrine on the bottom level of the Order's temple was a small place, almost too small for the enormous body laid in the center. The green liquid (it wasn't water, acid, or any identifiable substance the priests had found so far) floating about the circular island in the middle splashed and gurgled. The goddess of rebirth, Palgaea, swam in front of the island, her long snake body mostly submerged. Five men stood in the room, all wearing black robes and hoods. One held a staff with a human skull placed on the top. They were chanting in a strange tongue that was strangely terrifying to hear. They encircled the enormous corpse on the ground. The corpse was easily over six foot long, perhaps seven. An equally gigantic axe lay next to it. The body's chest was slightly caved in, as if from a hard blow. The giant heart that powered the body was uncovered, cut open by the priests with surgical precision. It was still.
The chanting reached a crescendo. The shrine suddenly seemed alive. The green liquid splashed harder and faster. The snake goddess' statue seemed to move, and heat came from everywhere at once. Everything wavered. Power, green in color and moving like electricity, covered the corpse on the ground and flowed to it's center, where the heart lay.
And the enormous heart pumped once... twice... three times.
Kunpaetku, holding his skull staff, looked at his creation. The golem's eyes opened, and it drew a huge, gasping breath. It's right hand clutched for and found Kulutues, it's old and familiar axe. Kunpaetku smiled, his crooked and pointed teeth gleaming in the light from the liquid about the platform, which was still again. He spoke to the creature, just now sitting up and holding it's head as if waking from being knocked out.
" Welcome back, Astaroth."
-There you go! First chapter up. This is going to be huge, people. Review me please! If your confused, read Falling through Nightmare, my other SC fanfic. It will detail Travens Castle and my world.
[]- Indicates thought.
* *- Indicates telepathy.
Hello once again, my fellow fanfiction.net readers! This is the prequel to "Falling through Nightmare." This story takes place after the battle at Travens Castle, and will explain everything! It will be much longer than "Falling through Nightmare", and will set the stage for the sequel, " Core of Reality" that I will be writing after it is done. Should have wrote this first, but "Falling Through Nightmare" caught my attention first.
For you Sophitia fans, read this chapter and you won't hate me like you do. I was playing Soul Caliber II last night, and a brilliant idea hit me. Read the chapter and you'll find out why Sophitia is a "crazy-ass bitch."
Note that my story occurs after Soul Caliber 1. The idea is that when Xianghua, Kilik, and Maxi attacked Nightmare, they threw him into the void. Siegfried escaped mostly intact, appearing back in the real world in the Black Forest of Germany. That gets explained later in the story.
With that done, it's...
"SHOWTIME!"
Chapter 1
New Beginnings, New Journeys
Siegfried and Ivy stood at the crossroads where they had first met, wondering what to say next. The rolling hills and plains of England stood all around them, bright in sunshine. Birds sung, and a light breeze blew. In short, it was a beautiful day.
[ Father always said that a pretty day is a bad day for goodbyes,] Siegfried thought before saying, " Hey, Ivy."
She turned to him. She herself was confused as to what to say next, and so accepted the opportunity gratefully. " Yes?"
" Where are you heading next?"
Ivy considered for a moment. She had hunted Voldo down because she needed the cash for a boat. London was a huge port town, and she needed to buy passage onto a ship headed for Navare, a port town in Portugal. From there, she would head east into Spain. Before passing away, her mother, the Countess Valentine, had told her that the Valentines weren't her true parents. Ivy remembered that night well- she kept seeing it in her dreams.
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It was raining outside. No lightening or thunder, just a steady rain. Ivy had went into her mother's bedroom, where Countess Valentine spent all her time anymore. She was too weak to walk. Death would come to her soon. Ivy wanted to spend a little more time with her before she was taken away. Ivy had brought supper to her on a little ornate tray. Her mother had waved it aside, and as Ivy placed it on the nightstand beside the canopied bed her mother had spoken. Her voice was weak and tired.
" Isabella."
Ivy looked at her. Her parents had called her Ivy for years, a nickname that had just sprung up one day when her father remarked that she grew like an ivy vine. Her mother would have normally called her Ivy, setting her on edge.
" Yes, Mother?"
Countess Valentine patted the side of the bed weakly with her left hand. As Ivy sat down on it, the Countess took her left hand (smooth and unwrinkled, a hand both dainty and strong) in her own (a wrinkled, old hand that had seen too many hard days). She started to talk, her voice barely above a whisper.
" Isabella, we have raised you as our daughter for years. I love you, as mothers should love their daughters, and your father loved you too, before he passed away." Here her eyes darkened slightly. The loss was still fresh, in both her mind and Ivy's. " We have raised you as our own daughter. But..."
Ivy was a very intelligent woman. Her mind, already on edge from being called by her first name, put itself in red alert. Something was up, and she had an idea what it was. Her voice trembled as she said, " What?"
" We are not your true parents. Your father was on a trip in Spain when a man came to him with you in his arms. You were barely two. He was your real father. He gave you to my husband and begged him on his knees to take you far away from Spain and raise you. My husband did so. That man left only two things to you: your first name and a key."
Countess Valentine took her weak hand from Ivy's numb ones and pointed at a picture on the far wall. It was one of Count Valentine, smiling and handsome. She continued speaking, her finger still pointed at the picture.
" My husband said that the man looked like a sailor or pirate, and wore two swords on his belt. One was a pistol sword, like the Spanish Navy favors. The other... my husband never described what it was, but he said that it felt wrong to him. The man kept glancing at it, as if he was afraid it would jump out of it's scabbard and attack him. My husband took one look at the man, frightened almost out of his wits, it seemed, and took you back. That was 25 years ago."
" The key the man left opens a mansion in Valencia. The man told my husband that when you were old enough, to tell you about it. We were to let you choose whether to find out about your birth father or not. I would have told you sooner, but my husband passed away first." She coughed here, her still-outstretched finger trembling. " The key is inside that painting. Cut open the breast-pocket."
Raising, her mind and body still numb with shock, Ivy took a letter opener from the desk and slit open the breast-pocket portion of the painting. A bronze key lay behind it, a small portion of the wooden back of the painting cut out to cleverly conceal the key and make the picture look flat from the front. The key was shaped like an anchor, and a small, orange topaz gem, cut into a diamond shape, was inset at the top of the anchor. Ivy could feel an enchantment about it. She took it out and looked at it, her mind wondering what to make of all this.
" Your birth father said that the mansion in Valenica holds the truth of your heritage. He said it was your choice. To find out... or not."
Her mother, her hand covering her mouth as she coughed again, suddenly started to cry softly. Tears came down her wrinkled face (old before it's time, aged with worry and disease) as she said, " I know I'm not your real mother, but I feel like it. I love you, Isabella. I just wanted you to know that before I die."
Ivy started crying too. She sat down on her mother's bed and hugged her. " I love you, Mother. Even if your not my birth mother, your my real one just the same."
Her mother cried with her, and then she said, " Ivy, you will be alone soon. I'm dying. Your father... he ruined us with his search for the Soul Edge. I don't know why that sword possessed him like it did. You can't rely on our money. All that's left has been eaten up by taxes and paying the doctor's bills. Your father taught you the sword and Alchemy. It's sad that anyone has to fight to live, but life is hard. You can do what you want. Your will makes your own destiny."
Hugging Ivy one last time before letting go, she said the last thing, one that stayed with Ivy even in the darkest times.
" I'm proud of the woman you've become. And remember, your father is in Heaven now, watching you. He is with you no matter what. Remember that."
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Ivy had done research and found the fastest way into Valencia was through Navare. Valencia lay on the Portugal-Spain border, far in the south. She would take a merchant ship to Navare, and from there she would cross the border going east into Valencia. Spain and Portugal were on relatively friendly terms at the moment, so travel between the two should be simple. She'd planned on doing it alone, but traveling with Siegfried had been a lot more enjoyable. Besides, there would be dangers involved.
But she didn't know whether to trust him or not.
" I'm going to London. We need to pick up our bounty from Scotland Yard."
Siegfried nodded. " Yeah. I have the proof here." He raised a bag up. The bag had a rather gruesome trophy: Voldo's head. Siegfried hated this part of bounties the most; dragging back various body parts was never fun, especially when the smell started. Hopefully they'd reach Scotland Yard before then.
" Where are you going from there?"
Ivy shrugged. She wasn't going to tell him just yet. " I don't know."
Siegfried shrugged and grinned. " Amazing. We have the exact same destination."
Ivy half-smirked. " Let's get going. I don't want that," she pointed at the bag, " to start smelling rotten. The bag will keep the worst of it out, but still."
Siegfried nodded. " Yeah." He snorted and said, " Don't you just love this? Go to a castle, fight a demon, cut someone's head off, drag it back... life's just wonderful."
Ivy laughed. " Absolutely."
They headed off together, walking towards London.
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Athens, Greece.
Sophitia looked about her. The mountains of Athens were both beautiful and harsh. Here, at the temple of Hephaestus, she could view them in all their glory.
She sighed. Once more, Fate had delivered her here. It seemed that Fate had taken a particular liking to her. She wished it would leave her alone.
Although no one in Athens would have believed it, Sophitia did not worship the gods anymore. She knew the truth now. Her gods were merely powerful spirits, greater than humans but in no more control of the world than mortals. She wondered at times if there were real gods, or if the world was really just guided by blind Fate. The people of Greece believed Sophitia was the chosen of the gods, the warrior goddess who had saved them all. After destroying the first Soul Edge and being helped home by Taki, the people had showered her family with gifts. Her parent's bakery had doubled it's business. Rothion's blacksmith work had increased to the point he had three other master blacksmiths helping him, with thirty apprentices, just to keep up with the work. After returning from her second journey ( someone else had destroyed the other Soul Edge) and having two children, she thought she could finally rest.
But it was not to be.
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Many customers, knowing of Rothion's skill at identifying metals, had been bringing shards and pieces of metals they found, hoping to be told it was a rare and precious metal. Most of it was normal iron, but sometimes a customer brought in rarer stuff. One particularly happy customer had brought in a chunk of pure mythril silver that Rothion had paid him quite well for. He still had it, saving it for a special project.
But yesterday, someone had brought in a very different fragment. No one, in the hustle and bustle of the shop, had seen who it was. No one had known anything was wrong until Sophitia had fallen to the floor.
The shop had two sections: a smithy in back where the work was done, and a service area up front. This was a simply made stone area where customers came in the front door and walked up to a counter Sophitia usually stood behind. She wrote down the orders, gave them to Pyrrha (who was always present behind her mother), who gave them to Rothion. Rothion, in back, was busy training Patroklos to inherit the smithy. Patroklos was showing great skill at it, and enjoyed being with his father.
In the hustle and bustle, Sophitia hadn't seen the hand, slipped out quickly and just as quickly slipped back, that placed the glowing red fragment on the counter. She just felt the sudden, debiliating pain in her stomach. The old wounds there, where the foul sword had pierced her body after being shattered ( they had healed, but formed ugly scars on her stomach), flared to terrible, painful life. She fell over, choking back a scream. Pyrrha had yelled, asking her what was wrong, Mommy, what was wrong. The customers stopped, looking at the hero of Greece and wondering what was happening. Patroklos and Rothion had run in from the shop, hearing Pyrrha's shout.
" What's wrong? Pyrrha? Sophitia?" Rothion had said, his voice full of worry. He was a man of large build, his muscles from the smithy flexing. He was a big, clean-shaven man, with a firm Roman nose and jaw. His good looks had placed him as one of the most wanted men in Athens, but his eyes had ever been (even before she became a hero) for Sophitia. His brown eyes shown with worry.
Sophitia couldn't speak. The pain was too much. If she opened her mouth, she would scream.
It was then that Patroklos would gaze at the fragment on the counter. He heard a siren voice in his head, and though he lived a long life, he would never feel that terrible, aching emptiness again. An emptiness that only the fragment could feel. He reached for it, ignoring his wounded mother.
His sister, however, had seen it too, and the same voice called her. She reached for it, and being quicker, took it before her brother. Patroklos looked at his sister, and completely unaware he would do it until it was over, he yelled at her.
" GIVE IT BACK, YOU BITCH!"
His voice was not his own. The Soul Edge, it's fragment working on him, had given him the madness it granted all. The fragment glowed as he yelled. Pyrrha, taken with it as well, screamed back.
" NO! IT'S MINE!"
Rothion and the customers were completely dumbfounded. Here their mother was lying on the floor, apparently crushed with pain, and they were fighting over a fragment? Yes, it glowed, but so did certain other metals. What was going on?
Sophitia spoke first. Her maternal love overrode her pain for the moment, and Rothion caught a glimpse of the Valkyrie in her soul. Her determination flared.
" PUT IT DOWN!"
The children stopped. The siren voice in their minds stopped. The fragment itself had cowered before the command in that voice.
" Give it to me." Sophitia, ignoring the pain, stretched out her hand. Pyrrha, totally shocked, gave it to her. The pain flared briefly, then dulled to a low ebb. Sophitia stood up, grimacing. Turning to the customers, she said, " You had better leave now. It's not a good idea to stay here, near this." She looked at the fragment in her hand as she did so. It's glow, dimmed but not diminished, painted her face red. In that moment, viewing her, Rothion thought she looked old. Very old. A woman who had faced too much in her life, and wanted to rest.
The customers, dumbfounded for the most part (and scared as well), left with much mumbling and talk. After they were gone, she turned to her children.
" Listen to me," she said. They stared at her, scared. They hadn't been able to stop themselves, or do anything at all but what the fragment said. They looked at her, as children will at their parents, sure they can fix anything. " This fragment is pure evil. If you ever see anything like it, ignore the voice in your mind and run. Run as fast as you can to your father. Understand?"
They nodded, mute. Their eyes seemed huge to Sophitia. She was dizzy from the sudden pain and the weariness that suddenly weighed on her.
" Rothion," she said, turning to him. He looked at her, his eyes scared. He was a strong man, sure he could handle any physical problem, but this was beyond him. He once more felt the barrier between him and his wife, the barrier her travels and adventures- her life outside him- had raised. Their were some bridges he could not cross.
" I have to leave. I'm going to need my sword and shield back."
He said, " What? Sophitia, what is happening?"
She shook her head.
" I don't know. But I'm going to find out."
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She had reached this mountain retreat by traveling all day and night. Now, tired though she was, she gripped the fragment in her right hand and ascended the last few steps. Turning, she glared at the statue of Hephaestus, the supposed "god" of fire and forge (Hephaestus was actually a fire elemental). She looked at it, and threw down the fragment.
" What in all the hells is this?" she demanded.
Hephaestus's voice came, as it always did, from within her mind.
* WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?*
" That's exactly what I'm asking you."
* YOU IMPERTINENT, UNGRATEFUL MORTAL. WHAT UNHOLY THING HAVE YOU-*
" Spare me the "greater than thou" talk. We both know the truth. Now, I ask you again: What is this? Is it what I think it is? Because I'm pretty sure that it's a fragment of the same sword you told me the Omega Sword would destroy!"
The elemental said nothing for a while, considering. In truth, the elemental was scared. It had created the Omega Sword by placing much of it's power in the sword. That sword represented the peak of it's strength. And if it couldn't truly destroy the Soul Edge...
Then the elemental had a thought, a thought it seized immediately. This thought was comforting, as it allowed for the fragments and the elemental's omnipotence (like many elemental beings, it was hard for Hephaestus to consider something as more powerful than it).
* PERHAPS IT IS A FRAGMENT OF THE SECOND SWORD, THE ONE YOU DID NOT DESTROY.*
Sophitia looked at the floor, thinking. She'd considered that as well. " It probably is. After all, it's been four years since I destroyed the first Soul Edge. If the first fragments were alive, I'd have gotten wind of it sooner. It's just one year after the second sword's destruction. Looks like Maxi's group screwed it up."
Hephaestus, not knowing who this "Maxi" was, ignored the comment and spoke to her again.
* THEN YOU MUST FIND THE FRAGMENTS AND DESTROY THEM.*
" Yeah, I thought you'd have me do that," she said, with no real bitterness. " This thing tried to possess my children. I'm going to break them all to pieces for that crime." She walked over to where the Omega Sword and the Elk Shield lay. As she reached for them, she said, " You know, you could find-"
She was interrupted by the fires that suddenly shot up all around her when she touched the hilt of the Omega Sword. She tried to jump back, but her hand was stuck on the blade. Not knowing what was happening, she jerked back, yelling as the fires reached her. It covered her body, but did not harm her. Instead, it burned her mind. Hephaestus hated Sophitia, hated her arrogance towards it and her attitude.
So it decided on a little mind alteration.
Part of the fire elemental entered her, trickling through the recesses of her mind and coating her emotions. It didn't destroy them (it was not powerful enough for that), but rather covered them up. Sophitia's emotions, save for hatred and anger, were ruined so long as Hephaestus held sway in her mind. The elemental laughed as she struggled against it, then went limp. The fires covered her mind and she blacked out.
The fires burned for a while, then went out. Sophitia stood up, her mind newly "cleansed" by Hephaestus' invading fires. She grasped the hilt of the Omega Sword and picked up the Elk Shield, and walked out of the temple. Hephaestus' laughter echoed all around the mountain, carrying with the wind and following Sophitia's descent down the mountainside.
In the temple, forgotten, the fragment of Soul Edge glowed faintly as it hid itself from Hephaestus' searching mind. It would be found by a monk later, and taken back towards Athens. Back towards Sophitia's family.
Towards her sister.
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Mainland Asia, somewhere south of present-day Russia.
Taki walked down the dirt road heading towards Europe. A road that Marco Polo had traveled across years before, when he had sought out China, the land of fabled treasure. The former Fu-Ma No Sato ninja was heading back towards Europe with a mission. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
On her back lay her twin swords, Rekki-Maru and Mekki-Maru. But of them, only one was important to her. Mekki-Maru, her demon sword.
And her new goal in life.
Years before, Taki had aided a Greek woman named Sophitia (who, surprisingly, had become Taki's best friend) in defeating Cervantes. She'd helped her home, thinking the second Soul Edge would die with the first. She'd taken five shards from Sophitia's wounded body, and had left after Sophitia recovered. She and Sophitia had become sisters of a sort. She'd kept the shards, mementos of their journey together.
Then, she'd come across Mekki-Maru. Nowhere near as strong as the Soul Edge, it was still a demonic weapon. She thought that pitting the shards against Mekki-Maru would destroy both weapons. A poetic justice, evil defeating evil. But instead of being destroyed, Mekki-Maru merely became stronger. She had kept the sword, wondering day and night what to do with it.
Then, she'd heard of the second Soul Edge being carried by a European knight. Knowing that Sophitia would go after it, Taki had set out for Europe, hoping to help her. But it was over before she got there. She headed back to Asia. And one night, heading back home, she decided to control Mekki-Maru instead of destroying it.
She trained for days on end, wielding the demonic weapon until it was a part of her body. And without knowing it, she had fallen in love with it's power. She was enraptured by the strength of Mekki-Maru to the point she had left the Fu-Ma No Sato ninjas because Toki was after it. She had killed many former comrades over the blade, and never felt remorse. Mekki-Maru was, after all, her's.
She was heading back to Europe because she'd heard that more fragments were turning up. She wanted Mekki-Maru even more powerful. And so, with the wind and silence that are a ninja's only true companions, she walked onward.
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Shrine of Palgaea, under the headquarters of the Order of Fygus Cestemus.
The shrine on the bottom level of the Order's temple was a small place, almost too small for the enormous body laid in the center. The green liquid (it wasn't water, acid, or any identifiable substance the priests had found so far) floating about the circular island in the middle splashed and gurgled. The goddess of rebirth, Palgaea, swam in front of the island, her long snake body mostly submerged. Five men stood in the room, all wearing black robes and hoods. One held a staff with a human skull placed on the top. They were chanting in a strange tongue that was strangely terrifying to hear. They encircled the enormous corpse on the ground. The corpse was easily over six foot long, perhaps seven. An equally gigantic axe lay next to it. The body's chest was slightly caved in, as if from a hard blow. The giant heart that powered the body was uncovered, cut open by the priests with surgical precision. It was still.
The chanting reached a crescendo. The shrine suddenly seemed alive. The green liquid splashed harder and faster. The snake goddess' statue seemed to move, and heat came from everywhere at once. Everything wavered. Power, green in color and moving like electricity, covered the corpse on the ground and flowed to it's center, where the heart lay.
And the enormous heart pumped once... twice... three times.
Kunpaetku, holding his skull staff, looked at his creation. The golem's eyes opened, and it drew a huge, gasping breath. It's right hand clutched for and found Kulutues, it's old and familiar axe. Kunpaetku smiled, his crooked and pointed teeth gleaming in the light from the liquid about the platform, which was still again. He spoke to the creature, just now sitting up and holding it's head as if waking from being knocked out.
" Welcome back, Astaroth."
-There you go! First chapter up. This is going to be huge, people. Review me please! If your confused, read Falling through Nightmare, my other SC fanfic. It will detail Travens Castle and my world.