Summary: (picks up immediately after GS2, so anything in GSDS that's going to happen (yay!) will not occur in this tale.) What if the beacons held the keys to something far greater than just the sun? What if they held the keys to the very fabric of the universe? What if the sun affected more than just two people? What if Gods themselves became very involved? What if Alchemy had a love affair with all? What if wars became the mainstay revived from long ago?
What if… a man, insane as they come, knew more about life and malevolence than anyone could ever hope to achieve? Could he be stopped, and if he could, would it even be worth it compared to the terrors beyond him? Read, to find out.
Welcome to the, if any of you remember this story on this site a few years back, now updated Golden Sun III: The Seal of the Gods. I had put this on hiatus really until my style had increased to a satisfactory level, and I think that this is pretty good. The problem: I don't have much time to write, so any writing I do isn't a priority, unless I'm encouraged. If you guys become really interested, I'll have to write. If not… there's an actual novel for me to do.
But still, I care very much so for this story, and believe that it deserves to be written anyways. Practice or not, I still want this to be good. I hope you guys enjoy the story, and no, this is not a one-shot. I just write very, very much. Enjoy chapter one!
Note: About the rating. I do not screen what I right. If someone gets chopped in two, they're getting chopped in two vividly. Same for language, same for sex, same for anything else feel is inappropriate. This is life, and it's not difficult to read it. But, if you don't enjoy reading that sort of material, don't read this story. (Really though, the rating is more for safety than anything else.)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, concepts, or locations, or even the game of Golden Sun one and two.
Chapter One: Fleeting Companions
Isaac knocked his head back and stared up at the night sky. It was decorated from zenith to hemispheres with more stars than he thought possible. There were no clouds there to impede them, and as full and bright as the moon was, it made no great move to outshine their pure glamour. The scene was serene, the time late, and atmosphere positively enrapturing. It caused Isaac to feel relaxed amongst his inner turmoil.
What he felt was a multitude of emotions, none of which were specific and obvious, yet all were general and inconspicuous. His mind had been racing to find the right one to describe himself with, yet every answer led to another fork in the road, that oh so terrible choice. Should he choose to go right, it would lead to more inquiries. In the same breath, should he travel left, he would maybe get another answer, with another two questions just for fun. It was a never ending cycle of cat and mouse, with Isaac playing the middleman and getting no respect for it.
His form leaned against the banister railing of the porch he now stood on. The wood was sturdy and supporting, as any oaken form should be, and yet the oak itself had not been painted or stained, leaving its natural coarse sensation. He shook his head, feeling his terribly unkempt and untamable hair shake from side to side. It was not much, but the cool air of night, the sky of painted stars, and his long time companion named Luna made him feel at least a little more "at home" and relaxed.
Four weeks ago, Isaac committed the exact same sin that he had once set out to prevent long before. It was neither stupidity nor ignorance that caused him to do this, but rather a certain share of enlightenment. The world was dying, slowly and surely. With that, the inexplicable proof laid before him, with most of his friends, his dear friends, standing to save it, the best way they knew how. While it was not his job at first to light the remaining beacons, it was however his duty to save Weyard, and that he would do in any way possible. So a choice needed to be made: To prevent the death of Weyard and to commit what he had sworn never to do, or to follow his original plight and forgo any sense of wits, and essentially aid in Weyard's ultimate destruction. Isaac found that he needed no large amount of encouragement in respect to this, and found the strength needed to help light the final lighthouse of Mars.
It was a treacherous journey towards the end, through the frigid North and dragons of fire and cosmic entities, climaxing with the near death of his father. But somehow, miraculously, nothing disastrous happened. The Wise One, the employer of his original charge, near betrayed them he believed, and refused to change his thoughts on the matter. Yet aside from that, they saved the world.
Alchemy was let loose on all the peoples of Weyard, and it would seem that although this power was released, nothing horrendous had happened. No grand struggles of power rippled through humanity, and ancient wars of old never reemerged from history. It was as if nothing changed; nothing at all.
In fact the opposite did, and a large festival occurred in Vault, where Isaac currently resided. The party was luxurious and random, with drunks and dancers abroad. Each of the heroes and heroines of that fateful day on the Mars Lighthouse allowed themselves to be free on that night. They celebrated harder than they ever had thought possible, and then celebrated some more. All the people of Vale did, and even their new neighbors in Vault, once coming to the realization of what truly happened (after a much needed hard and long lesson), came to enjoy themselves. It was night to remember, and one that would definitely not be forgotten.
But now was neither party nor heroic for Isaac. Now, for Isaac, was the time for confusion. He admitted it to no one, but lately he had been wondering what this new feeling was inside of him. He felt as if there was something unobtrusive, yet annoyingly in the way, growing inside of him. He danced around the idea that this feeling was a second him, yet nothing supported that. Even he himself made the thought distant. There was no evidence of this, or anything of difference, as nothing was different at all, yet the feeling remained and the wonder only intensified.
The sensation itself did not arise until after the Mars star had been thrown into its beacon. Actually… thought Isaac, I started to feel this way right after the beacon was lit. Isaac had no answers at this fork, only more questions.
Isaac sighed and leaned more heavily on the railing. He was tired. He was tired of thinking, tired of feeling, tired of wondering. To want nothing more than to relax was a blessing in disguise. But to have it ripped away whenever it was just obtained was a curse. With another sigh Isaac let his head drop down so he looked over the edge of the porch. He felt his hair fall with him, and almost instantly wished his entire being would fall with it. Lazily, he watched a street cat rummage through the trash, before finally giving up and laying against it instead to sleep.
He heard a plank creak behind him, and he jumped, his entire being becoming erect and alert. Throughout the course of his journey, when staying up at night on the open rode, even the slightest of sounds could have meant that a predator was around. Isaac's body was tuned to the sense of hearing, and just as the sense of rigidness arose, it dissipated. He knew who was there.
She came up from behind him and leaned against the banister in the same manner as he was. Isaac gave her a cursory look, seeing her balmy, red hair sway with her form. Her hair was not tied up like usual, yet he made no real notice of it. Underneath it was her auburn eyes, not really looking at anything, yet staring intently at the flicking lights coming from the windows in Vault. It was a lightshow in its gentlest form.
"Hey," he uttered without much thought.
He heard her say the same back, in the same manner and tone. He would have called mockery had he not known it was playfulness.
They stayed like that for a few moments until a sudden realization came upon him, this time being unusual enough to make note of it and inquire as to why the change. "Jenna… it's late. Why are you up?"
Jenna made no move to answer him right away, and instead stared out to the village. Vault was not nearly as big as some of the other towns they had visited, yet at night it still looked amazing. One could tell, the town here matched the sky in all its peacefulness.
She looked up and over to him, her eyes closed with her smile. "Wondering the same about you because it IS late, to be honest," she said gaily. "So, how about it? What's up?"
Noticing her inquisitiveness, Isaac laughed. It was not often, but there were times when Jenna would catch Isaac at a most vulnerable state. By vulnerable, it meant he was completely readable, and by not often it meant all the time. Somehow, in some indirect manner, Isaac had become a living, breathing, book to Jenna over the course of their years knowing one another. Whether it was because they were childhood friends or because they bonded closer than most other people, he could not fathom. But in any case, Isaac had long ago given up on trying to close his mind to her, it was futile. He just let things flow, if anything to keep her from getting too over-active with him.
He regained control of his laugh and said rather blankly, "Well, you should already know, hmm? I could go on and on about how I am confused about this and that, but really, that's just wasting time." Isaac looked around him, the stars once again beckoning him. "And at this time of night, who really wants to waste time?"
She cooed, shaking her head. "A lot of people waste time Isaac, you should know that. People all over the world can do that. For some people even, it's all they ever do."
Isaac picked up on the sullenness added to the latter statement. "I'm not like other people then," he said with a grin.
"No, you're not!" She laughed a bit, or a lot rather, at that. "That's why you're hard-headed and almost always stressed out. And that's why you became our 'de facto' leader of our entire journey after you finally came back; I'm sure you remember. But that's not really the point, is it? The point is, you're confused, you're awake instead of asleep, and I want to know why because it's bothering me. So, what is so different right now?"
She's being hard-headed herself… Isaac sighed recognizably at the irony and said, "Nothing's ever different or unnatural."
"So then what's natural?"
"Nothing's ever natural."
"What?" Jenna tilted her head characteristically, and Isaac did his best to not notice, lest he become even more of an open book.
"What I mean is nothing is ever normal or not normal. The concept is a completely fake and human idea, just to guard ourselves from what we call 'different'. Everything that we see, hear, and feel is completely real. People can try to use its broken idea as a way of trying to avoid the truth, but really, all they are doing is harming themselves with lies. There's no such thing as normal and natural and whatever. Things are just what they are, and always will be. That's what I believe, at any rate."
Jenna cooed again, and looked thoughtful. Briefly, Isaac wondered whether he had made any headway, particularly in distracting her from her original question.
When she turned to look at him, he knew he had not at all; and perhaps even promoted her curiosity even more.
"I wasn't asking for you to go off track, you know. Really, what's bothering you?" The pleading look she gave him was distracting from his somewhat sad attempt at stoicism. She added, "And I fully agree with you, by the way."
"Oh, well that's good… And it's not much that is bothering me. I just wanted to come outside and check out the stars. And the moon, too. They're beautiful tonight." He knew his attempt to fake his way out of this failed miserably.
"Liar, you've been up here since before I went to sleep. But I'll let it go for now, because I know you'll tell me eventually." She watched him sigh in relief. "In return though, you have to go to bed, right now," she added with a snicker.
"I'm not tired."
"Liar again! Last time you were up this late you passed out in your supper the next day."
Isaac deadpanned and looked to the side, at nothing in particular. "Shush." He folded his arms defensively and made no further comment on the matter. He made no further movements as well, except to remain stubborn.
Jenna folded her arms as well for a few moments, carefully staring him down. He was being too stubborn though, and the stare down she was used to using was not working as intended. So instead she grabbed him by the arm and proceeded to drag him back into the inn that they and all their friends were staying at. "Come on Isaac!" she commanded. "You've got to get some sleep. I know I won't if I have to keep worrying about you."
He tried to resist lightly at first, but soon found that it was no use. So instead he planted his feet firmly and took back his arm from her grasp. When she turned to look at him in frustration, he said, "Oh, so you were worrying about me, were you?" He laughed, openly, and completely directed it to the sky and her.
Flushing, she said "Yeah? What's you're point? Jerk! I'm allowed to worry!" She watched him laugh even louder, and she shouted, "You ignorant jerk!"
Jenna took a swing at him, which he mechanically dodged. As they both recaptured their balance, Isaac leaned in for a hug and held Jenna firmly. He felt her blush through her sudden rigidness. Feeling the warmth come through her clothes, he said to her calmly, "I know you're allowed to worry… And I want you to do that, too. Thanks, Jenna."
Releasing her and without looking back, Isaac departed from the porch and disappeared into the dark of the inn. He left her standing in the cool air, blushing, and holding herself gently. She looked over her shoulder and back into the darkness of the inn, where she knew he was. And smiled, knowing that for once he had actually gotten her beat on reading him.
She walked slowly back to the inn, where her warm bed was, in contrast to where she was. On her way, she smiled even more and giggled, "Jerk."
XXX
Isaac awoke to find himself on a hard surface. It was grating to the skin, and no matter how he moved, all he felt was pain. He vaguely wondered what kind of bed he fell asleep on, but had no such desire to open his eyes and check his surroundings. But the more he tried to move, the more uncomfortable he felt, until finally he slurred sleepily, "The springs are shot…!"
When he opened his eyes, he realized he was on the floor, and the entire bedspread was on top of him rather than under him. He huffed in a small sense of recognition, and then climbed back into the bed, leaving the blankets and pillow behind him. Usually, when he found himself asleep on a floor of some sort, it was because he had originally fallen asleep there. To find himself there after starting on a bed was rather confounding, yet Isaac really had no urge to think.
Curiosity had won out in his mind though, and slowly but surely he began running through his options on how he wound up on the floor. Being pushed off had no standing, as he would have woken from that. So did an earthquake, as that too would have woken him, and the building and room would look far more unkempt. So, that left one more real reason. He had another of those "night terrors", as he called him, and he thrashed around to the point that he fell off his bed.
…Yes… it was definitely one of those again.
They were terrible, to be blunt. They had no real purpose other than horrifying Isaac to no tangible end. In all of them, his friends were included. In all of them, he himself was included, in some sort of heroic position of some sort. And in all of them, his friends died. There was blood, pestilence, tears, hate, disgust, steel, deep forests, and… the rain.
Oh, that dreadful harbinger of pain, the rain! Isaac enjoyed the rain, he honestly did. He loved the feel, its cool relief in the form of drops. The pitter-patter sound it made on roofs, floors, dirt, and just about anything; it was all music to his ears. Oftentimes, he loved those grey, cloudy days more than the sunny ones, just in the hopes of seeing the rain. Yet in his dreams, what should have been his most sacred retreat, was instead a battleground of fear. And every time, every single time; the rain stormed overhead the ravages of that war, and gave no leeway when the battle ended solemnly. It was as if the rain, terror, and death were all holding hands in Isaac's dreams, and instead of relief, Isaac only saw the rain slowly spread blood along the ground.
The blood of his friends. Of my friends…
Isaac shook his head violently as an attempt to whisk the thought far from his physical form. He sulked, his head bobbing limply, and he felt himself raise a palm to his temple. It inadvertently covered his right eye, and he used the other to stare outside through his window.
It was sunny, maddeningly so. There were no clouds, no relief, just the brazen sun shining effortlessly through his window. Isaac found it ironic, how while in his dreams, the rain would take part in the worst of his nightmares, his "night terrors", yet when he was awake, all he would wish for was rain. All the time, all day, it could rain, and he would be at peace. It was so ironic for him, so very much so.
He laughed, heartily so. He was alone in the room, and he laughed even harder, the irony too much for him. Isaac wanted peace so much, and here before him, instead of being in the usual form of rain, it came as a sound, an uncontrollable bout of mirth.
Isaac slammed a fist down on his bed as the laugh subsided, in an effort to end it and regain composure. He needed the laugh, the brief stint of happiness, he admitted that. But he figured it best if he stopped and got up, and readied himself to go downstairs. It was hunger really that drove him to this thought, but also the nagging wonder of where all his friends were. They hadn't woken him up, which was unusual.
Slowly, but surely, Isaac dragged himself out of the comforts of his bed. He bent over, and grabbed up all his bed-sheets and pillows in a heap, and in the same manner dropped them on the bed. Feeling no need to make it all up, just because he would mess it up again that night, he left it alone and instead turned to his dresser. He grabbed the clothes he was so used to wearing, a combination of a blue tunic, pants, boots, and cloak, and proceeded to methodically put them on. There was not much thought to this process, and in turn there was not much thought in Isaac's head as well. He simply did, like any other meaningless task, and then turned to the door of his room, and walked out.
As he meandered his way down the stairs, he realized that it was too late to get breakfast at the inn, and it was far too early for supper, and he knew that they did not serve lunch. Isaac muttered a few curses, complaining about his grumbling stomach. Slowly, without much to hurry over aside from the hunger pangs, he wandered past the lobby, and through the front door of the inn. It was then he noticed just how blazingly hot it was. He muttered some more, cursing the sun for being merciless, and then moved the hood on his cloak over his head to keep the sun away from his face.
He sighed, and wondered if there were many other places serving food at this time of day. He could only hope, really, that somewhere served lunch at high noon. Maybe he would even run into one of his friends, if he was lucky enough. At least it would make things more interesting.
XXX
Somewhere, on the route between Vault and the nearest Angaran shoreline, a man stood confidently. His clothing consisted of a crimson tunic, with torso chain mail covering that, followed by a hardened leather vest over that. On his arms were leather bands around three to four inches wide sprinkled about, and he wore leather gloves as well. His leggings were of simple cloth, the same color as his tunic, but one could tell there was more chain mail beneath that. He wore boots as means for walking, but they showed small hints of battle here and there, meaning they were not just for show.
His skin was rather pale, even though it looked as though he went through much physical exertion. Scarlet hair just a few inches long fell flat messily all around his head, making daring attempts at covering his eyes. The eyes themselves were icy, grey, and yet strangely electric. They seemed to pierce anything they rested on. For a brief moment that was the sun, and then they turned to what the tall man held firmly in his hand: a weapon.
That weapon was a halberd, intricately designed so that it was unique to all others of its kind. From end to end it was coated to a cobalt sheen that seemed to emit its own energy. Towards the top, it tipped off as a spear, directly under that a huge axe-head was attached. A black lacquer substance held those two pieces together, firmly, and there seemed no real way to force it undone. At the bottom, which was stubbornly planted in the ground, another spearhead was attached via the lacquer, making the weapon deadly from both ends.
The man grinned, not out of happiness or of the realization of a good challenge, but rather out of recognition, acknowledgement. He swung the halberd side to side with both hands, enjoying weight and feel, how it was perfectly balanced. When he was completely satisfied, he hefted it effortlessly over his head and placed it in a holder that was strapped to his back.
Letting go, he cackled, staring out to the sun and the road ahead. He sneered, "It's almost time… things are moving like clockwork and… it's almost time! I can't wait, not a bit, I can't at all! Soon, it will be time to amass everything, and a power greater than that of the sun will be within my grasp. The very fabric of this world-no, all worlds-will be mine to wield! Everything is going exactly as I thought, and knew, and hell, everything! I knew it would be like this, everything turned out just like this." He continued to laugh, giggle even, it casting an eerie echo into the valley below.
"It's almost time…"
He cast one more cursory glance to the road, before maneuvering himself into the forest beside him. He committed himself to lie in wait there, to tie up loose ends, all of them, and then to finally start his long destined journey.
XXX
The problem with waking up in the early afternoon, Isaac continued to tell himself, is that almost no restaurant provides service at that time. He had been wandering for close to an hour now, and still he had had no luck in finding a restaurant. All that he did find were either just closing up after breakfast hours, or were going to open later for some sort of dinner. Neither of these did Isaac any good, and he found the pangs in his stomach getting more and more irritating by the minute. He honestly believed that if he did not find some sort of food soon, he would not be held responsible for what he did.
As he walked passively through the streets, having no energy due to hunger and abnormal heat, he wished that he had been woken up like usual. That way, of course, instead of walking out in prime roasting hours, he could be residing in the shade somewhere with a full stomach. Maybe even, just maybe, he could even use that time to find a half decent job as well. Although, even he had to admit that finding one at this time was a bother that was really worthless, as jobs were incredibly scarce now that the population doubled with so many refugees from Vale.
But right now, Isaac had not a care in the world. He felt eccentric, his knees weak, and his ability to hold his posture, let alone walk in a straight line, were seriously lacking. Gazing from side to side, he realized that he did have at least one care: he was hungry. Unfortunately, though he had been in Vault at least twice before, he had never actually traversed it, so he had no idea where anything was, and he had no map either. A dreadful situation, he believed himself to be in.
Then, as if some being far more supernatural than he could sense answered his prayers, he felt cool air draft from a medicinal commodities store directly to his left. He turned gravely to it, grimacing, food still deeply etched in his mind… yet he needed to rest, to cool off. Isaac was sure he was becoming feverish in this heat, and without so much as a second thought, he lugged himself into the store…
And from there, he wound up with his back on the musty floor below him. It was cool, Isaac gave it that much. It had given him some resemblance of relief, yet it puzzled him as to how he was there instead of standing up. He was positive he hadn't tripped, and he KNEW he had not collapsed. So then… why am I on the floor…?
"Come ON! It's a sale, saaaaaale. The sign says so right there! I pay you money for one herb, and I get one free. You've heard of 'buy one, get one free' before 'cause you made the damn sign! Now hand it over!"
Isaac recognized that voice. It was brash, violent, and a tad dumb, reminding him vaguely of the guy that would always sleep and eat more than him, just like a lazy bum. Beyond that, this person had hair that spiked, and brown eyes that were not quite deep enough to warrant the intelligence that he had. Sadly though, for Isaac and for this person, Garet, his best friend, was certainly not showing any of his smarts, however hidden they were.
A smaller, meeker voice spoke up after that, its owner short yet strong, with blond hair and violet eyes that did, in fact, do justice to at least the common sense he held. "Garet, get a hold of yourself! It's really not worth it! And look at what you did to Isaac, you just knocked him over!"
Isaac noticed two hands grab hold of him, followed by them aiding in his recovery. His head sagged over to the small boy's direction, and his were cut just enough to make the boy wonder if he was even conscious. His energy practically gone, Isaac simply uttered a question.
"What the hell is going on Ivan… and gimme a good reason why I shouldn't just knock him," he gestured over to Garet with his thumb, "-out?"
He watched numbly as Ivan raised his hands in defense, the heat clearly getting to him as well based off of the sweat rolling down his head. The boy grinned nervously, admitting his defeat in the matter without much of a fuss. "Just watch Isaac, or listen really. You'll see."
Watching and listening was easier than comprehending, so Isaac complied with his friend. He stood up shakily, but refused to lose so much of his composure as to actually lean against something.
The show though, really left much to be desired. First there was idiot number one, his bold and blunt best friend, angrily making his argument, following it up with much boasting. Clearly, he was right because the sign was there when he decided to buy his precious herb.
But, then we have idiot number two. This man happened to be the store clerk, or manager, or whoever was in charge, Isaac stopped caring. He wore a-what Isaac thought was originally white-apron, that was completely stained over with dirt, grease, dust, and other store apparels. That there, weakened his defense, which in and of itself had little to no standing. Basically, the defense was that when Garet bought his product in question, which was medicinal herbs, the clerk had already plucked the sign up and away from the crate that held them.
So in Isaac's mind, if neither of these two fools were lying, then the entire thing was a misdemeanor, with Garet slightly in the right. Garet did, in fact, pick up the herbs to buy while the sign was still there. And in the time it took him to finish shopping and get to the check-out area, the clerk had removed the sign, thinking no one had bought anything. But really, that meant not a thing, as the two most stubborn fools in the world stood facing off between one another right before his-and everyone else in the store's-eyes.
Ivan groaned inwardly, and spat out in a sigh, "Isaac… just buy it for him and end this. I'll pay you back later. Garet has all the money right now so I can't."
Isaac himself sighed, the exertion more than he felt like doing. I just wanted to eat and maybe relax today, really, that was all. But the embarrassment was a good motivator, and Isaac strolled up to the enraged clerk and handed him the money for both herbs. He snatched the herbs from the still frustrated clerk, and the sack Garet was holding, and then placed the fought-over item into it. Handing it over to Ivan, he gave a look to both Garet and the clerk.
To the clerk, he said, "There, I just paid for both of them. Stop acting like an idiot, because this guy over here was actually right, but I'm tired of listening to this. Next time, take your damn sign down in the morning or something so this way no one else has to be enlightened to your stupidity."
He turned to Garet, who would apparently still seem to be fuming to anyone else, but Isaac knew he was calming himself down. "Garet, just drop it next time, okay? It's not worth the time to argue over a pittance for money. Eh?"
Garet crossed his arms childishly, but no less fearsome. He muttered, "Yeah, yeah, I read you. Sorry about that." Then he grunted and left the store, taking off down the street Isaac came in from.
He could still hear Garet when he heard Ivan say from behind him, "Thanks, Isaac." As Isaac turned to face him, he continued with, "I'm going to go have a chat with Sheba." The conviction in his voice did not strike Isaac as anything out of the ordinary.
He waved him on, and as he did, he saw Ivan look over his shoulder and heard him say, "You take care of yourself, Isaac."
Now that was out of the ordinary. But as he stood there in the store, watching him walk down the street after Garet, the sun beating on his head as he walked, and the guy beside him still fuming over the argument, Isaac realized two things. First, it was probably nothing what Ivan meant, so therefore that meant he did not need to think about it right now, which was very unlike him. Second, he was still hungry, and this store was no longer refreshing in the slightest.
So with that, he took a deep breath, as if he was going to take a leap of faith right back into a hell of torment, and stepped outside. As he walked, he had no idea that exactly what he didn't want to happen was actually happening, and all his friends, his comrades, were leaving Vault for home.
XXX
The young woman stood before Vault's gates, gazing up at its sturdy, but incredibly simple structure. They more than suited the town, not only going along with it in terms of color, theme and style, but even the culture. Vault was by common knowledge mostly a home for farmers, while the parts that seemed more bustling were its slowly growing merchant community. There was no doubt it would be a major contender in terms of mercantile wealth some day when compared to its neighbors of Kalay and Bilibin.
As for the young woman, she stood not very tall, but her virgin white and deep azure robes let her flaunt her dignity openly. They were exotic really, bearing the markings of both Northern Gondowan desert-dwellers, as well as seals from an ancient civilization that has long since left this world. Hooked intimately in her robe's waist sash, under her violet cloak that also bore the symbol of Jupiter, was her favored mace. A morning star in essence, there was nothing completely outstanding about it, with the exception of the spikes that erupted randomly around its spherical nature.
Her hair was golden, the back now sagging down to her shoulders, as well as the sides. The bangs she grew also rested just above her violet eyes, threatening to cover their majestic beauty. The style was overall different from the way she used to have it, mainly because she made the choice to finally grow it out.
She gazed lazily around her position, in the middle of the street, where the sun shone brightest, where the relief of shade was no where to be seen, and smirked in the face of heat. The desert was far worse than this, she believed, and then she promptly turned to her auburn-haired friend, desperately trying to keep away from the heat. This woman noticed her smirking, and only snapped jokingly back at her.
"I don't care how you were in the desert your whole life Sheba, to the rest of us normal humans, it's hot. That's all there is to it."
Sheba gave a deeper smirk, not arguing the point. "Good that you know, Jenna. Still, I think it's just lovely weather out." She twirled her body this way and that, enjoying the sun with its every ray of light.
Hiding in the shadow of a building and watching her, Jenna sighed deeply. It was too hot, and she had not sweated this much in the longest time. How Sheba could wear those clothes, move around like that, and still claim that the heat did not bother her, Jenna had no idea. The heat itself was unusual for the day, and she was certain another golden-haired someone was just about now complaining about that heat… that and hunger. For a moment she smiled, thinking Isaac was not that different from Garet when it came to physical need.
And immediately afterwards, she frowned, realizing how bad that same person was going to feel once he realized what was going on. But it's for the best… she told herself over and over again. In fact, she was going to force herself to believe it, if necessary. Isaac would not be able to handle a big goodbye, and he hated them with a passion. So to save him the trouble, she came up with the idea that everyone would leave super early one morning, and he would be told farewell from a secondary perspective. Every one of his friends was in on it, with the exception of Isaac himself.
She grimaced, a twinge of guilt pulling at one of her heart strings. She hated that she had come up with the idea, and even more so that everyone had agreed with her, and even more so still, that she was utterly correct in her assumption. It was best to let him stay in the dark until this one painful part in him blew over, and then he would not worry, he wouldn't worry at all. He would just shrug, mentally wish them a safe trip, feel a fraction of the pain he normally would, and then move on. It was easier, she thought.
Jenna looked up as Sheba called out from her place on the dust-ridden, dirt street. "When are Ivan and Garet getting here? It's been almost an hour already." On the inside, Jenna grinned at the girl complaining. The Id inside of her was pleased to get some sort of "vengeance" at being mocked over hating the heat.
"I don't know, but I hope soon. It's really ho-," she interrupted herself, refusing to say that word and complain again about it, and instead said, "It's really boring waiting for them."
The bait was taken, and Sheba groaned, impatience getting the best of her and not suiting her at the same time. As Sheba puffed and crossed her arms, attempting to regain her composure, she saw another red-headed person stomp his way over to her, followed by a golden-haired kid.
"What took you two so long?" She held her roar back to half of what it would have been when she asked.
Garet simply pointed over to Ivan, who also simply just hefted up a travel sack he was holding, and shook it.
The boy spoke out and said, "We had a bit of bad luck with the store owner, and it took some time to sort out the prices. Sorry about that."
Garet just grunted, "Waste of money, if you ask me. We were right in that whole event, even Isaac said so."
He had unknowingly struck a hairline trigger in Jenna's mind, and her eyes went wide. Terror shook her and her mind started racing, searching for an answer that she could not obtain without further inquiry. She took a few deep breaths, and then realized that Ivan was staring at her.
He said gently, "He does not know a thing Jenna. I wouldn't worry. We're still safe."
Sheba watched as Jenna gave a sigh of relief, and instantly her womanly senses kicked into overdrive. Once again, it was clear to her how Jenna felt about Isaac, even if it was quite possibly unbeknownst to Jenna herself. She hated how she would most definitely miss the moment when she, as well as Isaac probably, would come to know about one another's feelings. But then again, she thought, I can still get the story from Felix.
Him too, she would miss. It was funny, how young they both were, yet how much they felt, and how much they both knew. It only started as an intense situation, with them both falling from the lighthouse at the same time, with him saving her very life. But it blossomed from that into a full-fledged emotional flower. It was an agonizingly slow and steady turnabout, but when they both came to know how they each felt, it just snapped in place like two halves to one great puzzle. Age, height, strength, personality, none of it mattered. There were no taboos to be had, no restrictions, they just loved.
And now, for at least a little while, that love would be strengthened as she left to see her foster family. She both didn't and did want to leave, and in the end, compromised with herself as well as Felix that she would only be gone for a little while. She just wanted to see them again, to tell them everything, about all their travels and everyone she had met, and even about her greatest love. It would be strenuous, a rigorous test in disguise, but she knew, they both knew, that they could endure.
With that, her mind convinced and her heart content for the moment, it was now or never. She spoke up to say, "So, is that it? Are we ready to head out, Ivan? I'm a bit anxious to head out, actually." It wasn't that she was anxious, so much as, if she did not leave then, she was afraid she may never be able to.
With a short pause from Ivan, which was noticed to be way more pronounced than it should have been by Sheba, he gave a nod. That led to a series of short, almost curt good-byes, giving the entire event a hurried, almost unimportant feeling. It actually made the normal emotions associated with farewells into an unwanted fiasco to their current owners. The two Mars knew the two Jupiters were not trying to deplore what the situation was, yet they also found no real evidence that they weren't in the first place. Had unspoken knowledge not filled the four in which this occurred, two would have felt insulted, and two more would have felt nothing but ignorance.
As their two youngest companions turned to leave the town Jenna frowned, and waited until they were out of earshot to say, "I think… that they had no real intention of leaving. They've been here awhile, yes, but I don't think saying goodbye and taking off for Kalay and wherever else actually had a profound impact on them until now."
Garet, being quite unlike his normal boisterous self, was rather quiet. He let the time pass for what seemed to Jenna to be a long time, as he watched the two slowly walk away from Vault. Neither looked back, as far as he could he see. But in the back of his mind, he knew their own minds were doing exactly what neither permitted their eyes to commit. This unusual stint of knowledge caused his mouth to form into what Jenna swore was a wry smile.
When she was about to question him, he spoke, intelligently. "Neither of them are leaving, at all. I think they are just looking at this as a very extended vacation." He paused, briefly, then sighed and started again before Jenna could interrupt. "No, they're not leaving at all. They'll be back, you can count on that."
And then he turned, and left, his tunic appearing to have soaked up the entirety of his sweat, down to its exterior leather layers. It was simple, brash, masculine, and completed Garet.
Jenna smiled, the now apparently minor annoyance of heat leaving, and the brief recognition of his intelligence, however rare, entering her. Yes, she believed, he was like Isaac when the situation called for it, as Isaac was in the same manner when required. That was why they were best friends, and there were no doubts in her mind about it.
Her friends would be back eventually, they all would, and Isaac would understand and be happy. It would be nice, like a family reunion of sorts, and they would be happy. It was a cheerful dream, a picture painted deeply in her mind, but she enjoyed it none the less.
When she turned and walked back into the town, she thought to go into the inn and relax far from the sun, and talk with Isaac about everything, so he would understand like she knew he would, and bring that picture a bit closer to reality.
XXX
Isaac was by no means a quitter. He had conquered hordes of beasts, solved puzzles of the ancients, toppled vicious dragons, scaled lighthouses of outstanding technology, protected every companion he made, withheld his honor with the Gods, blazed mental trauma aside, and resisted temperatures of both extremes. If anything, he was one to propel through a challenge rather than quit at an impenetrable wall and mope.
And then, by a shear stroke of genius, he realized that this, his seemingly endless search for food and relief from heat, was almost stupidly pointless.
With that, he promptly walked over to the nearest food vendor, ignoring both price and display, and asked for what he deemed to be readily edible fruits. Nutrition and taste had stopped mattering, and he had taken the entire situation into his own hands. If he was going to be forced to not eat in some sort of restaurant establishment in the early afternoon, then he was by Gods going to eat some sort of damned fruit product, no matter the cost.
To his surprise, his luck had not bit him in the rear-end like it had the tendency to do. No, instead, the two apples he purchased were more than satisfactory, being both juicy and cold, as well as settling the grumbling pangs in his stomach. Beyond that, it was a relief that even the supreme heat could not scorch out of existence. For a brief moment, Isaac found himself contemplating tears of joy, and then immediately figured that doing so in a public place would ruin the cheerful moment, rather than benefit it.
So how Isaac found himself walking around the northern walls of Vault, he could not say. After his much needed bout of nourishment, he found himself wanting to go on a walk. It was an awkward thought, much to his dismay. But he pressed on with it anyways, ignoring both the sweat on his back and the glare in his eyes. He had seen and felt worse, and knew he had no right to complain. Even still, he knew he wanted to get a better understanding of how Vault had changed over the past year or so, and in doing so suspected that knowing at least the bare outlook of his new home would be helpful.
As he walked, he realized that although his intentions were to attempt to make a mental image, or map of this town, his unconscious mind had a completely different scheme. It preferred, again to Isaac's dismay; that he toil over his night terrors and his new distant, yet bewildering feeling in his heart. It was frustrating, to say the least of it, and utterly preposterous that he could not regain control over his own consciousness, to say the most of it. It was not until a bit later, as he started to approach Vault's North Gate, that this worrisome event was repressed into the back of his mind again and something new took hold.
As he came closer and closer to this point, from ninety feet, to eighty feet… forty feet, thirty feet… The image before him became clear as glass. His companions, four of them, were all by the gate. Of them, three had travel robes and sacks which held, from what he could guess, supplies. If it was not for the shock of things, he would not have noticed a new type of confusion taking refuge in his mind, one that shrieked to him of being left out of something.
The man standing furthest from the gate and facing it, completely clad in various greens and browns, was Felix. His tied back hair was brown, and slacked off to the side as he visibly grabbed his forehead as Isaac walked up, concealing his also brown eyes. Standing a bit closer from him to the gate was an old man, with the grays of age as well as spectacles clinging to him. Isaac recognized him as Kraden. Closer still stood two persons, one wearing a sailor's tunic and slacks, the other donning a dress-like robe, but both contained an assortment of blues. Both had cerulean hair, and while both had it tied back, the woman's was far more stylish. In fact, if not for the obvious gender differences and the male having amber eyes the glowed, Piers and Mia would like inseparable twins.
Isaac gazed from one person to the other a few times over, his mind quickly forming the reason why they were all here, despite it being weary in the first place. And then his grin, which had formed as he realized who they all were, dissipated into what was akin to a rather dry facial expression.
"Hey guys… What are you all, um… up to?" He paused, knowing that saying the next thing would only confirm what he already deduced. "Heading out to home?"
Piers hoisted the knapsack that hung at his side up to and over his shoulder. He beckoned Kraden over as he said, "Sadly, yes. I have much to report to my king, as well as the council in Lemuria. As much as I would rather stay, it's not an option at this moment."
He did not leave Isaac much time for thought as he walked over to him and held out a fist, to which Isaac almost reluctantly pounded. From behind Piers Isaac heard Kraden say, "I'm in the same situation. I have many findings to test and report, and many more theories that need the aid of more alchemy scholars. Regrettable as it is, in my age, my duty has to come before my relaxation."
Briefly, Isaac thought it was the other way around, as old age implied retirement rather than work or "duty".
Piers then said, "I'm going to sail Kraden as close as I can over to Tolbi. The wings are out of the question because I don't have enough psynergy for that."
Isaac gave a nod in understanding, and then looked on as both of them waved and turned to leave. His gaze dropped to their feet afterwards. There was almost no shadow beneath them as they seemingly trudged, and the dust kicked up from their steps drifted lazily, like Isaac himself wanted to, in the wind. He found it a bit painful to watch them leave, even though he did not understand completely one, and the other being a fatherly figure for only a short amount of time. But even despite that, they were his companions, his friends, and for reasons he had trouble discerning, it was still painful.
His rational, weak as it was, was cut short as the healer that now stood beside him spoke. "Isaac, please don't be sad. And don't say that you are not, because it's written all over your face," she broke for a brief moment, not apparently no wanting to speak much more. "I have to go see my home town again, just to help them, and to let them know how everything is."
Isaac turned to her, someone that he did know well and that he really, really did not want to leave. He felt the immature and selfish thought arise, and then smiled because of it.
When Mia saw this, she dropped that bag that she was holding and hugged him, tightly. She said, suffocating a cry, "I promise I'll come back, okay? I really do, I promise. Is that alright? Just don't be sad."
Isaac found that his surprise in the action was short-lived, and he soon fell into the hug with her. It was difficult, with the shear amount of clothing she wore, but he felt the warmth of her through them within the embrace. Even in this heat, she still wears more than I can even dare wearing…
"Yeah, yeah Mia, that's alright," he said to her softly. "Just remember that I'm holding you to that."
It was a mild joke in the grand scheme of things, but it still caused the young woman in blue to smile. She picked up gracefully her carrying bag, which was filled with what Isaac could see to be an assortment of herbs that they had passed by on their travels. They were most likely for medicinal purposes, but Isaac had to wonder aloud at the thought.
"What's all that for?"
Mia stopped and stared at her bag for a moment before answering. "This? It's all for this greenhouse I'm thinking about making. If I set one up there in Imil, even the cold won't stop these plants from growing. And with all the medicine that can be made from these… if I teach the people how to grow them and grind them into the right amounts, they may not need me there as much anymore… if at all."
They found each other smiling at the small hint she gave about her true intentions of leaving, albeit an obvious one. Following that, Mia waved and said farewell to both sons of Venus, before she too turned and left for the road out of Vault.
Isaac felt her disappear quicker from sight than Piers and Kraden did, and then he completely noticed the full presence of Felix beside him. He had no reasons as to why, but somehow his very being around him made the one question he honestly wanted to know come bubbling to the surface of his mind.
"Why didn't anybody tell me they were leaving?" The words came out sour to a point, and Felix knew that although it was aimed at no one directly, he was the real target. He stepped forward a bit with a somewhat respectable edge, and rested his hand on Isaac's shoulder.
"You make yourself worry too much, that's why. You would have spent the few days leading up to this point running in circles if it was not done like this, and you know that it's true. It's amazing that you have not burned stress ulcers in your stomach yet."
"But this is different from other situations, I would have wanted to say goodbye instead. And Mia has healed 'those' for me already." The unwanted bit of knowledge caused Felix to grimace and his hand to quiver.
Quickly he regained his reserved tranquility, and said, "So then say your goodbyes now. Ivan and Sheba have already left through the Southern exit. If you wish to say farewell and wish them a safe trip, then do so. Just because they cannot hear you doesn't make the gesture any less meaningful. You still care for them, all of them, and they know that. Just as they care for you as well."
As Felix turned to leave, he said to Isaac, "By the way, and I did not tell you this, but it was my sister who came up with this idea. She knows you best, I think better than you do, so I would not take her judgment lightly."
Isaac found himself giving off a wry, yet happy smile as the other adept was walking away from him, seemingly no longer interested in explaining. "Yeah, I understand. More than you think, so take your own advice and don't worry!" He could not see from behind him, but Isaac felt Felix give off a grin as a he raised his hand in the air lazily, the showing that he heard the comment.
Although it was only still early afternoon, Isaac felt that the day had already gone on for much longer than that. Between the heat, the once unquenched hunger, and now half of his friends leaving for what he hoped to not be a long period of time, his mind felt strained. And then, as if, by a stroke of genius, he realized that he did not need to travel around any more. He could map out Vault the next day, and the same with searching for a job.
He did not need to do anything just then; he needed to only go back to the inn. He was sure the inn there was ventilated in such a way that there was some sort of cool breeze, and he was going to use that to his advantage.
It was no wonder that he so suddenly from there huffed back to the inn, all his troubles temporarily wiped from his mind.
XXX
The gray-aged man with his young yet mystically old escort had trekked through the forest for most of the day. Their journey had started out relatively rough, with the unbearable temperature being relentless, and the dirt path they followed had no semblance of shade anywhere in sight. Truly, it was an exquisite failure in terms of comfort, yet they still proved somewhat resilient. Of course, the snowy mist that was occasionally dispersed by the Lemurian Mercury adept was greatly appreciated all the same.
Things became much more accommodating by late afternoon, mainly due to the large, covered forest they came up too. This vast area of plant-life, spotted with trees, shrubs, and all manner of woodland fauna, was what stood between them and the Angaran shoreline where their vessel was anchored. The fact that it also accomplished their small time goal of getting away from the sun was not thought of by either of them, but none the less taken in gratefully. It was in this forest where they now stood, in the midst of a small yet homely clearing, the twilight in the sky giving off an assortment of orangey hues.
Through experience, they went through rather swiftly the list for a makeshift campsite. They each had their own sleeping mats, crunched tightly into spiraled rolls when not in use. Those were laid out first, perpendicular to one another. Inside the "V" shape betwixt the two, a small fire was started via predisposed matches. The twigs and brush gathered to start it were small and not meant to last for a long while, just to get the fire going.
It was while Kraden was gathering about the materials and ingredients to make a simple, somewhat nutritious soup that he made a common statement, well known to the ears of the other, "I'll keep the first shift for the watch."
Monsters were very widespread in the forest, and the two travelers found themselves to be incredibly lucky so far in their journey to have not encountered any yet. It was awkward, but no less warranted great relief. Either way though, neither felt the need to relax and loosen their guard, for fear one would be made a snack in the middle of their sleep.
Piers said back to the old man, "You won't be. I had the idea of setting up an igloo shelter with my psynergy tonight, with no opening except for the very top for ventilation. It will be tall enough to frustrate any attackers, as well as sturdy enough, and it will be very warm inside."
Intrigued, Kraden asked, "The sounds great. But, if it's warm inside, won't it surely melt?"
The commander just shook his head, stating, "Ice made from psynergy has a much higher freezing point. It will last the night easily, and should anything come up to us, the ruckus it will make trying to get in will most likely wake us." He paused, feeling like he had forgotten something, and then remembered it. "I'm going to grab some more substantial logs for the fire, to keep it going for an hour or two, you're alright with cooking?"
Kraden nodded, his spectacles reflecting the glow of the fire off in multiple directions. With that, Piers nodded back, and disappeared into the forest for what Kraden assumed was going to be a short duration.
Now to make the soup was a fairly mundane task for the old man. Using the small amount of vegetables they took with them from Vault, along with water from a sack, it was sizzling very nicely. It gave off a nice smell, enough to satisfy his hunger craving, but not enough to sate his urge for something tastier than cardboard. He took out some spices that he bought on his way through the town, and added them to the mixture as well. It was not much, but the combination would at least be passable now.
Kraden stared at the soup, vaguely noting the steam that simmered from it, fizzling into the air as nothingness. It truly was a dull task, albeit a necessary one. For once, he kept his mind clear, at rest, thinking of utterly nothing. He found it was surprisingly easy to accomplish such a task, and also found it equally relaxing.
It was the sound of rustling in the forest behind him, of course, that brought him out of this self-induced bliss. He listened, intently, knowing Piers did not enter the forest in that direction, and he heard the sound of moving flora again. And the forest continued to make sound, boldly, enough to send the scholar into a very attentive state. Whatever was coming, it was not small.
As he turned to face the forest, him completely on his feet now, he saw a sight he never would have cared to witness again.
A man, with crimson for hair and blood-red for clothing, covered in metal guards of all sorts, emerged strongly and directly in front of him. His sight, his posture, his grin, all sent Kraden into a nostalgia brimming with anger. The ire was not misplaced either, and Kraden recalled quickly his last few moments with the man many years before, at least ten. Again, he found the sight, and the man's megalomaniac eyes, very unpleasant.
And then, as if from a dream, or some terrible nightmare, the man spoke in a deep, formal, yet strangely psychotic tone, "Hello, teacher." The grin, the slightly enlarged canines they flaunted, was horror inducing in and of itself, but the voice made the full picture that much more dreadful. It was malice he sported, austere in all manners.
Standing rigid, his hands fidgeting behind the defense of his outer cloak, Kraden spoke in a similar manner. "Hello, my dear Lance."
The cackle that came at the sound of his name penetrated the old man with a chill. Lance, his former apprentice, his student, started pacing. His mind was severely stressed, as all the boundaries he owned, however non-existent they were before, that forbid the extremes from his sanity, were completely gone. Now, it seemed, everything about him was extreme, right down to the thoughts that flowed through his sight and face at every turn. The glimmer in his eyes, the malevolence of his stance, was all the proof the scholar needed.
"It was 'dear', you said, was it not? Your sarcasm precedes the level you've lowered yourself to just to conduct this research. I trust my hypothesis, my life, my 'ranting and ravings', and my prophecy, were all correct were they not?"
Lunacy stemmed from another cackle as the last word left his mouth with a crack. Kraden did not look away nor looked particularly afraid, and instead kept severe coolness to his voice. He's eyes landed on Lance's quivering fingers, eager for his expansive wealth of knowledge.
"Down to the last word, unfortunately. It would have been better for you to have been wrong when you were exiled from the palace and Tolbi altogether. But even then, I knew that when I decided to test your ravings for myself, that if they were true, this day would come. So your thirst for the very essence that binds this universe is still not sated?"
"But of course, it never has, because I have yet to gain the means to drink that ultimate gift. That was until you, and your unknowing subordinates did my job for me. Truly, I must thank them personally some day."
Kraden made no comment, choosing not to feed into Lance's bait. He would wait him out if needed, because he knew how this meeting would end long before he set out his unsaid, true quest.
Lance spoke again, the grandeur in his voice never receding. "The Seal of the Gods Kraden, I told you that it existed. I stated how to get there, and what all the pre-existing terms were. I know exactly where it is held, and now that the beacons of the great elements that serve as the strength of Weyard are lit, the path to the cosmos above is clear. And I am certain, very much so, that your journey yielded the fruits of my knowledge, and knows where the keys are to that gate."
Kraden sighed, his previous wisdom in the manner no longer caring, as did he himself. "All my observations were correct. I know how to activate the gate, and I know where to get the keys to do so. Once again, sadly, had it not been for your knowledge, this would have passed me by and would have never been heard of. And, you're in luck, much to my dismay. I'm carrying all of my notes on me."
Another screech of laughter belted from Lance's lungs, and his form visibly quivered in anticipation. "You talk as if you're going to die! Well, you were going to by my hand anyways, but you act as if you knew it all along!"
The old man pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, for what was unknown to him, the last time ever. "When I was ordered by Lord Babi to conduct my research on alchemy, I knew that as I also tested your 'prophecy', that the entire ordeal would be my end. I served my purpose, and I brought the knowledge that humanity needed to life. I'll leave the rest to those that I used, now to my regret," he paused, considering his words for the last time. "They will be the end of you Lance. Your power-lust and your overconfidence will fail you, and you will fall."
Kraden grimaced at what he saw, but accepted his fate as a pawn in destiny.
Lance smirked, it growing from ear to ear. The eyes beneath the threads of his hair shimmered, and the pupils dilated, his intent to kill flowing off in waves. From behind him, he pulled out his halberd, its length longer than he himself. With great show, he spread it out, and then pointed it at the old man, his old instructor, mentor. And then, in the blink of an eye, with a short breath, he charged straight ahead, and the weapon's tip rammed through Kraden's neck and tasted blood from all sides.
The kill was quick, instant, and painless, much to the man's disappointment. It was messy as well, the blood splattering across his face, and for once, he had to regain the reigns over his sanity. Now was not the time to lose control, as although his vengeance was completed in a way he did not want, which was quarantined off from the rest of the old man's body, the blood could still reach the valuable documents that he held. It was not a time to give in.
He yanked the speared tip, now dyed crimson, from the old man's neck, and then laid him on the ground roughly. Following this, he made flames in his hand, and engulfed the entire tip of his weapon, burning the remaining essence of his teacher's life away from him completely. And then he let off a smile, the most mature and sane one he had given off in awhile, embracing his tragic fate of being born a Mars Adept in an uncaring atmosphere. Then he noticed the memories of old resurfacing, and buried them instantly, no longer wanting any part of them. As it was not time to be insane, it was also not time to be enthralled in the cause of that insanity, and that was his memories.
Placing the weapon back into its welcoming holster on his back, he knelt over the old man and began rummaging through his robes. Surely what his mentor said he held, those needed documents, they must have been somewhere on him…
And indeed they were, tucked snugly beneath his inner robe, where it was still very much warm. He pulled them free and examined them, thoroughly, not wanting to let a single one miss his photographic memory. As he stared at each one, in order, he painted a clear picture in his mind. The clearer it became, the more his hysteric grin resurfaced, until he was in a full-blown giggle.
"The old fool did it!" He barked with laughter. "He actually did it! All these notes… he somehow figured out how to get the keys just by mere glances at their would be containers… B-Brilliant!" Again, Lance cackled. "The orbs… those damned beacons themselves hold them. Their essence… that's the solution! Just one Adept of that corresponding element, or its allied familiar element, and one can easily snatch it free. It's so straightforward, so faultless!"
He dropped the papers on the corpse before him in a heap, their purpose fulfilled. He bore his teeth wildly, wondering briefly how he managed to get this far with such a dual personality. And then, he no longer cared. Lance needed allies, quick, and he already had recruits in mind. My brother; and that girl… They're both easy to get, for inside they both desire the same thing, even if unknowingly.
The Seal… That incredible Seal of the Gods… it will be mine!
Lance turned to the camp fire, and sucked all the flames from it and cradled them around his right arm, watching the swirls of orange and scarlet with lust. Again he found his tragic affinity for Hell's flames becoming of him, and their allure caused his lips to curl inward towards a manic smile. And then, as their rogue heat was his plaything, he cast them to all the foliage around the clearing, setting them all ablaze. He cared not if Kraden burned, the notes, nothing; he did not need them and already forgotten about them. All that was left was the passionate flames and the quest he would champion himself.
He firmly believed, as he danced and dispersed into the fires and night, that nothing on Weyard would stop his mad trip to his ultimate goal.
XXX
Piers found himself racing back towards their make-shift campsite, the flames ahead only urging him forward. The firewood he had been gathering had been dropped and left behind the second those lights rose over the edge of the forest. Swiftly in both hands, he readied his powers of Mercury, the created water already surging around both of his arms.
As he jumped into the clearing, spraying his water at any flames, he realized two daunting things. The first was that the flames were not natural, and created just has his water was, through Psynergy. The second, and by far the worst, was that the old alchemist, his friend and mentor, Kraden, was dead with sketches and notes frayed all about him. He was not burning though.
The flames went out with much difficulty, and quickly Piers ran to Kraden to see if there was a chance to save him, some glimmer of life. But as he knelt over him, he realized without checking that he was gone, his eyes staring into an unknown distance a more than obvious indicator. He closed them, gently, and started to absent-mindedly examine the papers around him.
He found the gasp of surprise he made unnerving, yet in comparison to the notes themselves there was no contest. The scholar had stumbled onto something bigger than himself, bigger than anything Piers ever knew in his long life. It was the key to a tragedy that was the cause of Alchemy being sealed in the first place, and the forming of the four great elemental cities. This man, this mere non-adept, had found out the one major secret that was a forbidden part of history for ages.
This couldn't have been a quest for knowledge; he would have needed pre-existing sources. This… this is way beyond me. Piers gathered up all the notes quickly and stuffed them into his knapsack. He could not afford to delay, not in the slightest. The one who slew Kraden must have already known about all of this, and used the man to his advantage. There was never a time before in his life where Piers felt more urgency.
The conflict in his mind between his grief over his companion's death and the urgency of this new development crashed into a stalemate, until Piers ended it by roughly digging out a hole in the ground with his control over ice. He carried the body over to the grave, wishing in the quick prayer he gave that Kraden would forgive him for his hastiness, and then buried him over with cold dirt.
And then he turned towards the shore, the amount of miles daunting, but no less necessary to trek. His life became secondary to him, right down to any emotions he felt. His self-imposed mission took control of his mind, and he became mechanical in all his thoughts and movements. He needed to go to Lemuria, he needed to take action, he needed to get help. Weyard was in total danger, and not just that, the entire cosmos.
The secret of the Seal was leaked, and suddenly, thousands of years worth of hiding instantly became days of rushing. Time, the bastard, was unreliable in being a guardian in that aspect any longer. It fell to men, and now specifically, to him, to take command and somehow find the aid to end this.
King Hydros in Lemuria would surely think of something that he overlooked, and in his current state, that could amount to anything…
Well, there's chapter one. As naturally, I enjoy reviews greatly, and they're about the only thing that will keep me writing (college campus living plus double major equals hell on wheels).