Of Light And Darkness: Path Of Eternal Nightmare

by Crazy Rob

Heroes aren't heroes because they were given the easy choices. Come and hear the tragic tale of one chosen to restore the realms the tragedy of Ladis. Rated M for language and blood

1. Something went wrong

GENERIC DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Ladis and all original characters in this series. Please don't sue. Video Game rights discussions, however, and movie deals are welcome. (Smiles greedily.)

OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS:

Path Of Eternal Nightmares

If nothing is pure, and nothing is sacred,

Then everything we do is all overrated,

And if God isn't here, and love isn't there,

Then is there any hope anywhere?

Ballad of the Unnamed Bard, Verse I

Take some time to push away all the thoughts of this world; the confusion and the conundrums, the mayhem and the melancholy. Let the tale again be told of the beginning of the end, and the end of a beginning. The story of the unsung hero.

No statue was built of him, no sculptor was ever commissioned.

No praises were ever sung of him; his memory is all but erased from time itself.

No days of rejoicing or mourning mark his triumphs or his passing.

And yet he has done more than any mortal has been able to do so far…

This story begins in a realm beyond our mundane world, a world in which magic was commonplace, and was old as time itself…

Prologue: Shadows Of Disaster

A girl of eighteen, her amethyst hair wavering slightly in the breeze, continued on her daily routine walk. Her face and skin were a creamy peach, and were it not for the despairing look seemingly forever bound to her face, she would be the essence of innocent beauty.

Her destination was a large tree, from which sadistic squeals of glee could be heard, along with puffs of smoke and flashes of flame.

She sighed bitterly.

He was doing it again.

The girl, given the name Faith, increased her stride, lifting her white robe as to not trip over it, hoping to spare the life of whatever her ill-willed brother had trapped this time.

"Hold… still… DAMMIT!" the blonde-hair boy growled as he pointed his index finger at a slightly singed squirrel, now panicked out of its instinctive mind.

Were it not for a quick reflex that sent the small mammal into a leap, the lightning bolt that emitted from the boy's fingertip would have easily charred both the squirrel and the earth beneath it beyond recognition.

But the mammal's stamina began to fade, and the youth began to prepare another, more destructive spell…

…right as a jet of pale blue light struck him, rendering him airborne for a few moments.

Faith took this time to cast a small healing spell on the poor frightening creature, then a combination of invisibility and hasting spells, allowing it to get away from the homicidal mage before he landed and regained his bearings.

A loud thud, accompanied by swearing, signified that Faith's target had landed.

She regarded the boy with disgust. In her society, the boy would normally wear grey robes, a symbol of humility before God and recognition of what he had yet to learn in the arcane arts.

This youth had no such garb, wearing a black, patch-work robe covered in blood-red runes, a garb fitting for one who called on demonic powers for their work.

"Have you no shame, Fate?" she spoke, her voice icy. "Did you forget the first rule? Do no harm to that which does no harm!"

The boy named Fate rose to his feet, dusting himself off. "Outdated moralistic nonsense." He replied, his eyes flashing angrily. "Fitting from an unanointed fool like you."

Faith was stung by this. The anointment her brother referred to was a ceremony the parents bestowed on their children before age ten, a symbol of recognition of that child's place in society. Her parents had neglected this, spending their time teaching Fate the more difficult arcane arts. When it was finally realized what had happened, it was too late. All of Faith's parents' apologies and pleas could not remove the fact she was the only one in the entire community that was unanointed. It had driven a barrier between her family and her, as it marked her as an inferior citizen for life.

Faith eyes blazed white, and for the slightest of moments, Fate, even as skilled as he was in the war magic arts, feared for his life.

"Did it burn, Fate?" She hissed. "Did it burn when they laid hand on you, baptized you with holy water?" her voice rose, her anger rising.

Fate's calm, ruthless demeanor returned. "You know as well as I your manner is not fitting for an inferior. Now, what was it you interrupted me for?" he said silkily.

Faith, for all it pained her, knew he was right. As an unanointed, she was inferior to everyone in society.

"Mother and Father want you to come home for dinner." she spoke softly.

Fate smiled, his sadistic pleasure increasing. "Bring my dinner to me." He commanded.

Faith's head snapped up. "What!"

Fate shook his head in disgust. "You heard me, wench! Bring me my din…"

But this time Fate had gone too far. A multitude of ice shards rained down on him, gashing him severely. While his magical resistance shouldered some of the blow, the effect was enough to render him helpless.

Faith, her tears turned to ice from her spell, could barely speak for anger and sorrow. "g…g-go to hell, you… BASTARD!" she screamed, running off towards home.

Fate slowly struggled to his feet, casting a healing spell to remove the frostbite and wounds that were the results of a Blizzara spell at point blank range.

"Stupid inferior…" he muttered, though it was empty. A true inferior should have never been able to catch him off guard twice. And to top it off, the creature he was going to use as a sacrifice had escaped.

If only the laws were more lenient, he could dispose of her. Then he could ascend to true power. With no one to match him for raw potential, he would be invincible.

But no. Unanointed or not, the laws allowed her to live, albeit miserably as an outcast.

Idiots. All of them. Mother and Father for not abandoning her, the law for protecting her, and her for not having the sense to put herself out of her own misery.

Idiots.

"But it seems they always get to decide how things are run, these fools, doesn't it?" came a voice.

Fate whirled around, and came face to face with…

Well, now, this was more to his liking.

The mage, his twisted face a pale grey, adorned with scars in the shape of arcane symbols (which, Fate realized, marked him as one who had summoned demons and lived to tell the tale), wore a coal black robe, inscribed with blood-red symbols designed to keep any demon summoned from turning on him.

"Everyday the mundane fools make more and more costly decisions based on "morals", when in reality they're just pandering to what they think the majority wants, in exchange for money, power, or followers." The mage spoke, his voice chilling the very air about him.

Fate swore that the very area around them grew darker as he spoke.

"Even that book, the "holy word" they call it, is nothing more than a tool of fiction for the mundanes to use to keep those more gifted than they in check." And here the mage made a mocking gesture of a priest preaching "'Do as we say, or go to hell!' Such nonsense is better left for fools and invalids."

Fate felt his words ring true. Why did the lesser get to make all the big decisions? Where was his say? When had anyone asked him about a major decision for the village?

"If it wasn't enough that they preach this nonsense, they have to force it on us, shove it down our throats, and make us conform to their beliefs while rejecting our own." The mage paused. "Do you know anyone like that? A family member, perhaps?"

Fate's face twisted into a hateful expression. "Faith's always bitching about some moral standard, or stopping me from having fun…"

The mage smiled. "You see? They always seem to be making up the rules as they go along, not caring who they hurt or why." The mage paused, as if reflecting on something. "And, judging by the state of things, it will continue. Unless…" his demonic gaze lingered on Fate for a few moments, as if considering how to ask a question.

The mage let the word linger, then shook his head. "But no, you would most likely not be interested in such an outlandish idea."

Fate ran towards him "No, tell me, please! I'm willing to do anything…"

The words that the mage needed to be spoken had been said. He smiled, and turned to Fate, his eyes flashing red…

"Very well…"

Back at home, Faith sat on her bed, her sobs now staunched with bitterness. Perhaps I can go to some other village, one where anointment does not matter, she wished longingly.

Her parents had asked her to eat with them, to maintain the façade of a family, but Faith had icily reminded them that unanointed were not allowed to eat with anointed. The same way she had for over 10 years.

If I ever build my own village, there will be no anointings. She resolved. No, better yet, anyone may be anointed regardless of age! The Lord accepted those with sins of all types, why should we discern due to age who is better and who is worse?

For the first time in 10 years, Faith smiled. But her peaceful self-revelation was dispelled with a sound like an explosion resounded near the village square.

Self-pity and resolution left her. She dashed out, ready to aid whoever was injured in the explosion. Screams of disbelief and terror resounded in the air. Even though it was nowhere near dusk, the sky was steadily darkening.

Then she saw it… or more appropriately, him…

Fate.

Only this was no longer the boy she knew as a brother and tormentor. Fate, now easily 8 feet tall and muscle-bound, sported a Black Robe with a golden pentagram on the front, and held a pitch black scythe with a ruby blade. His face and skin were as pale as the moon, and all around him was the aura of a man who knew no good in his heart.

"Each and every one of you…" Fate began; his voice sounding of a cacophony of many demonic raspings melded together, "has had the unwarranted chance to excel at your pitiful endeavors. To break all boundaries, to exceed your predecessors." Fate scowled as he glared at the villagers who were witnessing this spectacle. "But no…" he hissed, the tone of acid being poured on flesh in his voice, "You succumb to your own pettiness, forge rules to bring those around you down…" Fate smiled, and he gaze swept over to her. Faith felt as though her very blood was wilting in her veins.

"For this… failure… there is no other judgment as fitting… no other sentence more suitable… than nonexistence… Death is merciful, and none here are deserving of mercy…" he spoke, with the air of a judge pronouncing sage wisdom.

He lifted the scythe he held, its blade gleaming with a demonic aura. Villagers snapped out of their stupor and hurled offensive spells at him, but the waves of lightning and fire, the sheets of hail and stone failed to faze him in the least.

Faith stood by, her eyes wide in terror. No, she said, willing the image away, praying it was all a nightmare. It can't end this way… not now! I want to feel happy again, just once!

"SO I FATE HAVE SPOKEN, SO SHALL IT BE!" he roared, swinging the scythe into the earth, where it emitted a dull thud, and then all was silent.

At first, the villagers ceased their spells, and looked about them. Nothing significant, other than the ominous darkening of the sky, had happened.

Then the darkness began to shift, mold itself into almost living form. It stretched from the sky, like tar oozing from a pan tipped from above, twisting and shifting into macabre shapes, engulfing the remaining dim light that was filtering down from above, covering the village in darkness.

The villagers, as if on cue, shifted from disbelief to full-blown panic. Spells flew up at the dark masses, in vain attempts to beat back whatever unholy curse was rapidly descending.

Fate's parents, now sobbing, approached their son, trying to make sense of the madness. Faith tried to call out to them, tried to call them back… but no words came to her throat.

"Why!" Faith's mother asked, her eyes brimming with tears. "Why would you do this?"

Fate answered the question his mother spoke, and the question his father never got the chance to speak, with a gout of pure heat and flame, vaporizing all but a few bones.

Faith's eyes stung with the stench of burning flesh, and the knowledge her family was dead. She raised her hands to ward off whatever would come next, praying the end would be swift.

Fate roared, and the shifting mass of blackness descended on the village like a tidal wave of ink. Buildings disappeared, erased. The masses changed shape, slashing with long pseudo-pod of blackness at whatever was fleeing or was still intact, the impact bringing instant erasure of the struck object or person.

Fate raised the scythe, and the shapes merged into a single wave, swallowing the village at once, converging on one single point: Where his sister stood, trembling.

Faith, as the walls of darkness closed in, prayed that her end would be swift and without pain, asking the God she felt abandoned her long ago for one favor: A quick death.

But such was not meant to be.

As the inky black mass closed on her, preparing to consume her, Faith felt a strange sense of… nothingness, as if she was one with a higher force… and all though the blackness was around her, she could only see light…

Faith had never knew what it meant to be anointed, but now, she felt, she could honestly say she knew beyond a shadow of doubt what it was.

Not holy water on the head, or meaningless chants, but something else…

Fate smiled, his wish of annihilating his sister finally coming true. Finally, after a life of being hindered by her, his parents, all of his village's morals and do-nots, he was finally getting vengeance for all he was made to suffer…

…when a searing light, repelling the blackness that would consume Faith, tore skyward; blazing a path through the darkness. So bright was this glaring light that Fate was forced to turn away to avoid being blinded.

When his sight returned, Faith was nowhere to be found, her spot now covered by the same substance that had consumed the village.

Fate cursed loudly, then sighed, his massive shoulders, enhanced by foul magic, shrugging slightly.

What possible harm could she cause now?

Still… the light bothered him.

Rather than rebuild the spot with his own devices and constructs, he made a rift there, a place of nothingness.

A grave of nothing for one who was worth nothing, he joked to amuse and calm himself.

But still, he could not remove the light from his mind…

But of what consequence is it to me? He thought. Even if she somehow survived, what harm could she ever bring me?

Fate then set about his task. From the darkness-tainted land, he raised with pure will massive spires and towers to build his castle, from which he would rule…

…what would he rule? Oh, yes… the mage had mentioned something about his dues… in return for the massive power, Fate was to conquer many realms under the mage's God. Lucifer, the mage had said.

A kingdom where he would reign supreme, only answering to this new god, whom, he noted happily, had provided far more immediate results than the pacifist deity his parents adored.

He looked about him, surveying the mass of darkness that churned and oozed. It needed a name… just like a plague or a murderer needs a proper title…

He smiled, and stretched his arms out, like a proud emperor surveying his land.

"Odium." He spoke, his voice low and demonic. :"You shall be called Odium, for you are my hate and rancor made form to do my bidding."

And, with a slash through the air, he called eight great masses of the blackness to him…

Black tar, however lethal, did not make the proper impression on those who were to submit without question. The Mage had said that one of the limits of the power Fate wielded was that he could not be omnipresent. To compensate for this, he would need loyal soldiers who would never turn on him. That would answer his every command without question.

And so, with a diabolic chant, the first mass of Odium began to churn and take shape, becoming a mass of mottled, tainted dark colored hues, like oil on tainted blood.

Fate, willing the mass, began to form and shape the horrific structure of the beast. Pseudo-pods became green, scaled arms and legs with vicious claws, attached to an armored, reptilian body. The mass writhed and trembled as the hideous blasphemy of creation began to take final shape- a giant reptile with an enormous body, the size of an elephant, with a saw-toothed maw that smelled of arsenic and cruel, blood-red eyes that reflected a wicked intelligence.

As the beast settled into its form, Fate placed his hand on its head. "I name thee Despair, ever gorging on the earth's hope, and unto thee I confer the power to bring harm against the pure and innocent."

The beast's eyes flickered, as it made a small bow. "Then I shall bring harm against the innocent and pure as you command." It spoke, its voice like that of a man being drowned over and over. Fate removed his hand, and there, upon its skull, lay his new god's mark- a blood red pentagram.

He called the next mass of odium, and the dark ritual began again. He formed, this time, a female form, which would be very comely were it not for the fact her skin was a mottled blue, and her face was that of a medusa's. Not caring to make her appear a common harlot, he robed her in a midnight blue toga, and formed in her hand a trident. Her emerald eyes flickered to life, and her fanged grin widened as Fate placed his hand once more on her forehead, conferring the demonic mark.

"I name thee Desecration, tainter of the waters, and unto thee I confer the power to taint all with poison that makes man and woman go mad and pray for death."

Desecration smiled. "Then I shall poison all, and none shall escape the pain I bring."

He brought the next mass of odium before him, and thought of how fitting this pattern was… a servant of each of the elements of magic to symbolize that he was served by magic itself.

He formed the next mass into the build of a demonic, bipedal minotaur-like creature, arming it with a blazing axe and chain.

He admired the new servant, and made his decree. "I name you Hatred, the ever-consuming flame made flesh, and confer unto thee the power to bring pain and despair unto all you see."

The minotaur snorted a gout of flame, and bowed on one knee. "Then I shall burn the hopes of all to ash, and never cease to plague them."

He formed the next mass into a more suitable personification of one of the "Espers" he had been forced to learn to summon. Shiva had failed to respect his commands, and so he would create a far more superior image.

He formed her out of pure ice, chiseling her form into a cruel image of a dark goddess, and cloaked her in armor of unmelting ice. He finished the ritual by placing a scepter of liquid frost in her hands. "I name thee Apathy, and unto thee I confer the power to snuff out hope, ambition, and reason."

Apathy almost seemed to not hear the commandment, then spoke, her voice flat and unwavering, "Then I shall rid all of emotion and hope that rise against you."

Fate began to admire his works, and continued working in such a fashion. After some length of this ritualistic anointment of his infernal soldiers, four more hideous beasts were created: Cruelty, a massive skeleton with bone wings and a crossbow made of rotted ivory, with the power to induce pain in any living thing. Judgment, the false sage of light, who revealed all in a person's life without modesty and administered cruel punishments without remorse. Rage, an eight-armed, Javelin-bearing bipedal hybrid of a dragon and a tiger, who struck down at whim anyone he felt like with searing lightning. And, finally, he made Blasphemy, his personal favorite: The incarnation of evil deeds guised in goodwill, the murderous betrayal of the sellout personified.

Then, with a wave of his scythe, he tore open a portal to the other realms, sending his eight minions to do as much damage as possible, and to conquer them in his name…

Fate's laughter echoed along the odium-soaked wasteland that was once his home.

CHAPTER ONE: REGRESSIONS, TRANSGRESSIONS, AND RECANTATION.

Earth, May 19th, 2004

It is said that the firstborn of a family, especially if male, receives both the most of the good attention and most of the overreactions to mistakes.

This is more commonly true with non-dysfunctional families.

Ladis Jadesdale, a boy of 18, awoke from his small, unadorned room. It had a few books he had from the library, a desk, a bed, and a closet. Not much else was in there, save for a long dowel rod he kept for protection.

The body suggested that perhaps Ladis was a bit too skinny, maybe a runner or swimmer. Not really muscled, with a large, messy mass of black hair that never wanted to be combed.

He shuffled out of bed, and began the morning ritual for a Monday. (GOD, he hated Mondays).

Take his shower before his brother woke up and demanded the shower, and he got grounded for an additional 2 weeks for not being out of there in a split-second. (The first two were for failing to answer "Yes Sir" to the little brat.)

Get out, and back into his refuge of a room before someone could tell him what a failure he was to the family.

Get packed for the last few days of school and get out before his mother/father/brother stopped him and began the daily lecture of how disappointed they were in him.

He had himself a glass of milk and a piece of bread before he was at the door, keys in hand…

"Ladis." A voice, cold and uncaring, stopped him.

He turned around, barely suppressing a sigh.

His father. A hulking, eternally angry, bitter man who seemed to suck the life out of each room he stepped into. His thinning hair and cold, stony face only hinted at the taskmaster that lurked underneath

"I don't know why you bother getting up and going to school, it's obvious you're not going to be much of anything but a burden on society." He said, the venom in his words only diluted by the fact he had said something of this acidity each and every miserable day of Ladis' life.

"Were I you, I'd make the mature decision, and end my burden on society prematurely. However," and his father rolled his eyes, "you don't seem mature enough to do that yet."

"So you're saying I should kill myself? Is that it?" Ladis hissed, the anger in his voice rising.

"Not while you're under my roof. Funerals are expensive. I don't want the trouble of burying your worthless hide."

An ordinary teenager would have their soul shattered at these words. Ladis, however, had his soul shattered over and over, and so he had developed a sort of macabre immunity to these onslaughts.

"Three more days, and then I'm gone." Ladis reminded, as his graduation was fast approaching.

"You've got four hours after they give you your papers to get out. I honestly don't know how you managed to bribe them into passing you." His father spoke, not decreasing his tone's edge in the least. "And don't you DARE give me that bull about you earning those grades! Why, in my day…"

"Maybe they took pity on you. Either way, in three days, we'll be rid of each other." Ladis said, as he walked out.

"Don't think you came come back home after the world chews you up, you ungrateful piece of shit!" his father roared after him. "I'll laugh when they drag your bloated carcass out of the ditches!"

A few of the students headed towards the bus stop with Ladis shot him a glance of pity, and disbelief. He ignored these. They just reminded him of the fact that most people looked forward to waking up each morning to a new day, while Ladis would have gladly welcomed Cardiac Arrest while he was sleeping.

"Three more days…" he reminded himself. "Three more days…"

Then what? Where would he go?

Anywhere.

Anywhere was better than here. Away from home. Away from his parents. Away from his brother. Away from… everything.

School wasn't better at all.

Nothing was.

The condescending teachers with their leering faces, the plastered smiles, the complete lack of giving a damn whatsoever…

One thing was good, though.

The Mondays were when Ladis got paid. And at the very least, the school food was good.

So in ways, it was better than home.

Ladis pretended to stay after for detentions. His father and mother gave him absolutely no spending money whatsoever, not even for food, so Ladis, during these "detentions" did work for one of the chemistry teachers, helping him at his family restaurant on the side.

It kept him fed during the school hours, at least, and, on rare occasions, Ladis could afford new clothing, like a jacket for colder months.

It was his last payday.

He knocked on the door to the chemistry lab, three, sharp knocks.

"Who is it?" called a crisp, Asian-accented voice.

"I am the ferryman for the River Styx." Ladis replied.

There was a pause.

"Rocker 2709. Combo 23-06-45. The money is there. You get it and keep quiet. Ok?"

Ladis turned to walk away.

"Radis." The voice called.

Ladis paused, looking back at the closed door.

"You good kid with good head. You have bad parents. Time to go someplace else! Get a job! Be happy for change! Hai?"

Ladis smiled. The first encouraging words all day.

"Hai." He responded, and went to collect his pay.

The pay was there, of course, along with some extra.

A significant amount extra. At least an additional 100 was added to his pay.

There was a note attached.

You keep this from your father. He not happy with me. He come to my restaurant, start yelling bad things. You need to leave ASAP.

Gods protect you,

Dr. Kazubeki.

Ladis swore silently, and stuffed the money into his jeans. He closed the locker, and walked to his class as inconspicuously as possible.

No smiles. People got worried when Ladis smiled. A laugh once got him sent to the office, with relieved faces all around when it was discovered he didn't have a gun. This large amount of money could easily be interpreted as payment for a drug deal.

But where to hide this sort of cash? Home was out; Ladis' room was raided daily for any sign of wrongdoing. Hiding it in his locker was a bad idea, too: His father and mother frequently checked it for drugs and anything of value. (It had taken three teachers and the principal himself to convince his parents that he was given those textbooks, and that he hadn't stolen them.)

For now, Ladis merely kept the money hidden safely on his person. Kept a straight face. Kept his personal mantra going.

"Three more days… three more days… three more days…"

English- The one class that could be reasonably praised for keeping Ladis from going berserk with a firearm in the cafeteria. Here, Ladis could vent his frustrations and fears and actually receive praise for them, all in the confidentiality that his parents would never see them.

It was also a class where he had friends. Friends who could help him as long as he helped them. Friends who he could trust to hold on to a large block of money until he could spend it safely.

He sat at his usual place, smiling as he glanced over at two particular students, one a rather becoming brunette girl with a figure that could best be described as "elven", an innocent, carefree face, and her boyfriend, a dark, Hispanic young man with an impish grin that, to those unaccustomed to his mannerisms, gave off the illusion of a gothic student.

The two were apparently trying to engage tactile telepathy by pushing their heads together.

Ladis cleared his throat, and the two jumped, then glared at him.

Ladis, for the second time during the day, smiled. "You know, the Holiday Inn is doing a one-night special for couples…"

Ladis then had to duck quickly to avoid the female's purse being swung at his head.

"Easy! I wasn't trying to upset you, Katrin." He attempted, trying to pacify any residual anger.

The male smiled, and, had Ladis not known that his intentions were not dwelling on such things, he could have easily assumed this man was contemplating a painful death as punishment for the intrusion. "Hello, Ladis." He said, his light tone betraying what most would assume to be a dour exterior. "Three more days." He said, his face curling into a grin.

Ladis sighed. "Three more days, Derrick. Three more days…"

Derrick gave Katrin a parting kiss, then starting fishing out his English book from his backpack.

"I need a favor from you, Derrick." Ladis said, trying to lower his voice to a whisper.

Derrick looked up, his eyes narrowing. Years of experience had taught him to be wary of requests for "favors", even from friends. "What kind of favor?" he asked cautiously.

Ladis sighed. "It's a long story…"

After English class, Derrick absorbed the full extent as Ladis relayed the story of the bonus he received for his work, and that he needed someone to hang on to it so his parents didn't confiscate it.

Derrick's eyes narrowed. "He actually said you had 4 hours to pack up after graduation?"

"Yes."

Derrick looked down at the ground, shaking his head slightly. Katrin brought her hand to her mouth, seemingly unsure of what to say.

"Your dad sucks." Derrick said, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"In other news, sky blue, grass green. So, can you?" Ladis asked.

Derrick took the envelope and stuffed it into his shirt. "No problem. Listen, stop by today before you go home. My dad wanted to talk to you."

Ladis raised an eyebrow. "About…?"

Derrick shrugged as he and Katrin began to walk off. "He didn't say. All I know is that he said it was really urgent."

Ladis pondered this momentarily, then turned to leave.

Ever maintaining the façade he was just another student who had a good home to go to. A family that loved him. A life he liked living.

Continuing the lie he had been forced to live since he was only 5…

The rest of the school day was mottled goodbyes and teacher's putting on their most plastered smiles and wishing each student the best when they set off into the world. Friends laughed. Couples kissed in the hallway without shame.

And as Ladis walked out of the school into the blazing heat of the summer day, he couldn't help but feel that God himself mocked his life, giving him images of what he could have been…

The walk to his friend's house seemed to take forever. Thoughts of what he would do for shelter, food, and livelihood after he left home flooded his mind. How would he pay bills? The bonus Kazubeki left him would provide for a few minor provisions, but not much else…

Finally, he arrived. A tall, muscular Hispanic man, Derrick's father, greeted him.

"Ladis! Come in, come in!" the man greeted him warmly. Ladis plastered on a smile, never giving any indication of anything being wrong. Held back the tears of envy as he felt the benevolence of the household wash over him, a feeling he'd never felt at home.

"I take it Derrick told you I wanted to talk to you." The man said, sighing. He face reflected a sympathetic sort of person, the kind who did not like to see others suffer.

Ladis nodded mutely. "Yes, he did, sir."

"Call me Mr. Gutarez, Ladis. More casual." He said, trying to lessen the tension. "Please, sit down." He said, indicating the couch. Ladis plopped down, as did Gutarez.

"I've heard things for you aren't hot at home."

Ladis' head shot up. Could Derrick have stooped so low as to get others interfered…

"No, Derrick didn't tell me. I hear it when I walk my dogs; the screaming and…" he paused, trying to lessen the severity of a word he was going to use.
…the names they call you at home."

Ladis sighed. "I've gotten used to it."

Gutarez frowned. "You shouldn't have to. I hear they're kicking you out four hours after graduation."

Ladis rose with a start. "How did you…"

"Hear it? It was easy, as I was outside this morning, ANYONE could have heard your dad's ranting…" he said, sighed.

"Anyway, I got to talking with the Missus, and we were wondering, why should you wait? If you're willing to help out around the house, you can get your stuff and live with us until graduation. After that, I know a friend up at a church called St. Matthew's who could use some help. It should help prepare you for college, and give you money to spend."

Ladis' jaw dropped. After… after all this garbage he'd suffered for 18 years… was he getting another chance?

"You mean it!" Ladis breathed.

Gutarez smiled. ""Wouldn't of said it if I didn't mean it."

And with those words, Ladis, for the first time in 14 years, knew the kind embrace of a father.

His family was not at all pleased.

Who could blame them? For 13 years, Ladis had done most of the housework, and now the prospect of not having someone to spew their venom at was looming nigh.

"I hope you realize just how much you're hurting me by doing this." Ladis' mother sighed in her usual tone, a pity-me sigh on the verge of tears forced only by sheer will. Her body was a shrewish, thin woman's, with an eternally lamenting face that showed she had deepest sympathies for herself and no one else.

"You wanted me out, you're getting your wish. I'm eighteen now. I don't HAVE to stay here." Ladis said icily.

His mother sighed. "If only you would see the error of your ways and the righteousness of ours, then we would have a benevolent dictatorship, and you wouldn't be burdened with all these decisions. Unfortunately, you're not that mature yet. I don't know if you ever will be."

Ladis finished packing his possessions, and picked up his dowel rod.

"You still have that? That symbol of rebellion?" She moaned.

"This is the only thing that's kept Terce at bay." He said, saying his brother's name like it was venom. "The little knife-wielding maniac is hazardous to my health. Consider this my life insurance."

"He is simply exercising his right of dominance over a lesser being." She stated, as if this were a proven scientific fact, Ladis being nothing but pond scum.

Ladis shrugged, apathy taking the place of emotion. "…fine. Whatever you want to believe." He said, taking the suitcase containing his entire life's wares, and started downstairs, where Gutarez was waiting outside.

He was halfway out the door when he heard a faint swishing…

Instinctively, Ladis spun, spinning his dowel to knock the incoming knife away from his face and into a nearby wall. He saw his brother, fuming angrily, where the knife had come from.

"Terce the Curse" Ladis had nicknamed him. It seemed as if Terce was yet another punishment for some horrible crime Ladis had committed in a previous life, with such attempts on his life being a daily occurrence.

Terce looked innocent enough, a 14-year old with an angelic face and dusty brown hair, and a build that suggested he got a good workout. (This was mainly in part due to the strenuous assassination attempts he would try on his brother every other day.) However, those who had spent more than five minutes with Terce had been known to swear up and down that they had met the reincarnation of Damien.

"You shit! You blocked that one on purpose! DAAAAAAAAAD!" Terce screamed, his face going red with the effort.

Ladis sighed, and kept walking, where a horrified and appalled Gutarez waited by his car.

"Yes, this IS normal." Ladis said simply, answering the question that hung in the air like the smell of rotted corpses.

Ladis' father appeared in the doorway. "You're not going anywhere, you little bastard. Get back here and take your medicine like a man!" he bellowed, scaring a few birds out of their trees.

Ladis turned to his father before he got in the car. "Sorry, don't feel sick. You could use some, though."

The hulking behemoth of a man seemed infuriated by this casual refusal, and charged to yank Ladis out of the car and back into his house, and he might have succeeded, had his courage not been quelled by Gutarez pointing a Glock at his heart.

"Take one more step, and I WILL shoot to kill." Gutarez warned.

Ladis' father, seeing he no longer had the advantage, turned to Ladis. "I will hunt you down for this. I will make sure you pay dearly for humiliating me. I will see to it your life is utterly and irreparably ruined. Do I make myself clear, shit!" he growled, his voice dripping venom.

Ladis sighed bitterly. "Let's just leave. He'll keep ranting if we stay."

Gutarez put the Civic in gear, and drove away from the house Ladis called home… with the dying threats and curses of Mr. Jadesdale flying after them.

Things were looking up.

Gutarez' only asked simple chores of Ladis during his stay, and Derrick was all to happy to play host to a refugee. Mrs. Gutarez had even packed him a homemade lunch for the last day of school…

Things were definitely looking up.

It was gym. One more hour of this… MOCKERY of physical education, run by a (he used the term loosely) woman who seemed to thoroughly enjoy the suffering her exercises inflicted.

Calling this woman, Miss Kellsin, a brutal, cold-hearted teacher, would be making an understatement, in Ladis' opinion. She taught wrestling, and there were rumors she would occasionally single out a female student to practice submission holds on. More than once Ladis had seen a pretty crying face in the nurse's office, having a broken appendage tended to, refusing to answer questions about how such severe injuries could occur.

He would go to the office and report it, but no one seemed willing to testify. And who was a nobody like Ladis to simply fling baseless accusations at a teacher?

Ladis stooped to regain his breath after a grueling 45-minute run around the gym courtesy of Kellsin. Some of the less fit students had fallen over, desperately intaking air to survive. Kellsin forbade water breaks during her classes, so thirst and stamina deprivation took their toll on everyone.

Stumbling beside him, Derrick fought to regain his breath. "God…damn… bitch…"

Ladis, finally regaining his breath, stood up. "She'll get it someday, Derrick. Everyone goes down in time."

Kellsin stood over some of the fallen students, her obese, tyrannical form towering over her students. "You sacks of shit! What the hell was that? Are you crap-lickers are so out of shape you can't handle a little jog!"

Ladis stifled a laugh. Ironically, Kellsin was so out of shape herself that the shortest sprint left her gasping for air.

Kellsin's cruel gaze swept over the students, then, a cruel, callous smile formed on her lips. "Katrin! In my office! NOW!"

Derrick rose with a start, and Ladis watched as Katrin tried to make an excuse to get out of her inevitable doom, only to be forcibly dragged by Kellsin towards the office where so many innocent young women had their limbs twisted and broken at the teacher's sadistic glee.

"Everyone goes down in time, huh?" Derrick asked bitterly, his face contorted in fury. Ladis saw the look of despair and frustration at his inability to do anything to help his girlfriend, and…

Something inside him snapped.

"Yes. And Kellsin's time is today."

Derrick looked at Ladis like he was insane, then, his face hardened, his features set into a determined glare. "We could get expelled for this."

"I know." Ladis said, as they started for the office at a run.

"We could lose our diplomas."

"I know."

"Then let's roll."

Not wasting any time to see what was going on, Ladis and Derrick simultaneously attacked the door to Kellsin's office with a kick, shattering the lock and flinging the door wide open.

Sure enough, Kellsin had Katrin in a surfboard submission, attempting to wrench both arms out of their sockets. A series of cracklings and Katrin's screaming indicated her arms had given way, when the sudden noise of Ladis and Derrick's entry made Kellsin ease her assault and look to see what the commotion was.

"What in the hell do you shits think you're doing?" she roared.

Ladis replied by punching her in the face, knocking her off of Katrin and into a desk. Office supplies scattered everywhere as Kellsin struggled to regain her balance.

When Ladis saw her face again, a large diagonal cut was across her livid face, her eyes boiling with rage and indignation at the blow.

"WHYYOUFUCKINGSONOFA…"

Ladis sidestepped the sloppy left jab, twisted the arm around clockwise, evoking a short cry of surprise and pain from Kellsin.

"That's not how you properly break someone's arm, Miss. Now this…" and with that, Ladis released his right hand's grip on the arm, pulled it taut with his left arm, and brought his right elbow crashing down onto Kellsin's. There was a loud crack and Kellsin fell to the floor bellowing in pain.

"…is how you break an arm."

Ladis looked up to where Derrick was rubbing Katrin's injured shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

Katrin could barely speak. "I…can't move my arms…" she whimpered.

Ladis, infuriated, brought his fist down onto the back of Kellsin's head, knocking her out cold. He then turned to the intercom, used for paging other rooms, and selected the main office.

"Get some an officer down here. We have a situation." He said, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Derrick, still trying to pop Katrin's shoulder's back in, watched in horror as Ladis took a jump rope from a storage box, and used it to bind Kellsin's hands and feet.

"Are you insane? They'll arrest us for sure."

Ladis shook his head. "Not this time. Not when we've got both a victim and a witness to the crime."

It figured. Just when things were going well, life had to come along and screw them up. Just his luck.

He sighed, and went over to Derrick to see if he could ease Katrin's pain any until help arrived.

This was not good.

Ladis and Derrick sat in the back of a Police Cruiser in the high school parking lot, waiting to be hauled off to the precinct. Beating up and hog-tying your gym teacher, it turned out, didn't sit too well with the police officers on duty at the High School.

"Damn." Derrick said. "What the hell are we going to tell my dad?" he asked, his normally stoic face showing a hint of despair.

"The truth. We tell him the truth. We don't make ourselves heroes, we just state the facts." Ladis calmly spoke, trying to ease Derrick's fears as much as his own. "..and we pray he can cough up the bail money." He added, fear creeping into his own voice as well.

A tap on the window startled them both, and two officers opened up the back doors of the car, and helped Ladis and Derrick out.

"Your story checks out. Seems Kellsin's been roughhousing with a lot of the girls and blackmailing them into keeping quiet." Said one of the two, as they fumbled for the keys to undo the duo's handcuffs.

"She still unconscious?" Ladis asked, no concern for Kellsin whatsoever showing in his voice.

"Yup."

"Good."

"What about Katrin?" asked Derrick, as the other officer undid his cuffs. "Is she…?"

"The EMS popped her arms back in, gave her some painkillers, and are taking her to the hospital. She'll be all right. As for Kellsin, the paramedics say that elbow's gone for good. Too little calcium or something, they said." The officer rambled as he undid Ladis cuffed hands, and gave the boy room to stretch. "Can't say I feel sorry for her, though."

The other cop turned his gaze on Ladis. "That was stupid."

"Yessir."

"That could be classified as assault with intent to kill."

"Yessir."

"I could have you arrested and sent to Juvenile, then to the pen when you hit 21 for that sort of thing."

"Yessir."

"But I'm not going to. You know why, kid?"

"Why, sir?"

The cop looked him dead in the eyes, as if he was examining his soul for a taint. "Because that took balls, son. You two risked everything to help out someone else. I can't send a man to jail for that any day."

Ladis raised an eyebrow at the overly sappy statement, and the cop sighed. "It's called justifiable assault. Now get home." He growled, but smiled slightly, and gave a dismissing wave.

Ladis and Derrick looked out at the area where the buses where… or had been. The ordeal had taken so long all buses had left the school, and neither owned a car. However, transportation was the last thing on Ladis' mind, as he wondered how Gutarez would handle the news of this little incident.

It was going to be a very long walk home.

Mr. Gutarez paced about in the kitchen, his face undecipherable.

"This teacher took Katrin into the backroom, and pulled her arms out of their sockets. Ladis then punched her, broke her arm, and tied her up. Is that what you're telling me?" he said, his voice neutral.

Derrick nodded. "Yes, sir."

Gutarez turned to Ladis. "You have anything to add?"

Ladis bowed his head. "I did what I felt had to be done. Nothing more, nothing less."

Gutarez's face remained indecipherable. He looked at them both, as if deciding on a punishment. Then, sighing, he walked over to the refrigerator, grabbed a few sodas, and tossed one to Ladis and Derrick.

"When I was your age, teachers were allowed to hit kids with a paddle. We had this one guy in our class. A black kid. Really smart, really cool. Teacher hated him." Gutarez made exaggerated hand motions to play out the effect.

"Kept paddling him for everything. Sneezing, coughing, asking questions, not asking questions, he could barely sit down. We all felt sorry for him."

Gutarez took a swig of his soda.

"So what we did is broke the teacher's paddle. We thought that'd stop him from beating up on the kid." Gutarez sighed, and looked at the ceiling. "It didn't. He beat him with his fists, kept punching him until he couldn't get up, then he…" and here Gutarez started having trouble forming words. "…he kept kicking him… like a dog."

"Me and some of the guys jumped the teacher, pulled him off of the guy. When the police arrived, we were all expelled. The teacher received a warning. The kid dropped out and we never heard from him again."

He looked at Ladis and Derrick, his eyes steely.

"There's going to be times where doing the right thing means you can lose everything. I think you two knew what could of happened when you chose to save Katrin. Thank God the other girls spoke up, or we'd be having this conversation at the precinct."

Gutarez finished his soda, crushed the can, and tossed it into a garbage can with a flick of his wrist.

"You guys may think you're heroes. You got a right to… for a while. Don't let it get to your head, because fame makes monsters outta saints." Gutarez said, smiling.

"There's gonna be times where you make the right decision and everyone else says you're wrong. There may even be times where making the right decision may cost you your life. Heroes aren't heroes because they were given the easy decisions to make."

Gutarez's gaze swept over the two, who were still listening, spellbound.

"But remember this: In the end, you got one person you have to answer to. Make sure you do stuff you'll be proud of when it's time."

With that he patted them on the shoulders, and left to work in his study.

Ladis took a sip, and closed his eyes in thought.

"Why, Ladis?" said Derrick, his face towards the ground.

"Why what?"

"Why do people do this? Katrin never did anything to Kellsin. Why she'd get hurt?"

Ladis took the last of his soda in one gulp.

"I'd tell you the answer, but I think you know it already."

Derrick looked up. "What is it?"

Ladis sighed. "Assholes don't target people who did them wrong. They target the innocent, the ones who never did them any harm. That's what makes them assholes."

Derrick stood up. "True. I'm going to see Katrin. You wanna come?"

Ladis shook his head. "I need to think. Tell her to get well in time for graduation for me."

Derrick nodded, and headed out to ask his dad for a ride.

Ladis trotted upstairs, to the guest room where he was staying.

It had only been two days since he moved in, and already he'd caused trouble.

"Am I bad luck?" he asked the ceiling. "Do I really make other people's lives miserable just by being around them?"

Silence answered him.

Ladis mentally shook himself for talking out loud, and flopped on the bed.

He had escaped his family. He had escaped High School, and taken out an abusive teacher as he left.

So why the hell did he feel so low?

"How's your arm, Katrin?" asked Derrick.

"For the thousandth time, it's fine." Replied Katrin. "I'm glad you're concerned, but really, it's better now. My skin, on the other hand…" she said, cringing.

Ladis understood her reason for discomfort. The graduation gowns they were forced to wear were hot, stifling, and of sandpaper texture.

"After this, I'm taking a hot shower and forgetting about all this." Declared Katrin as she adjusted her hat.

"If you wanna use mine, I'll scrub your back for you…" Derrick whispered into her ear.

"What about my other parts?" Katrin asked innocently.

"They'll be given… special care." Promised Derrick, licking his lips.

Ladis elbowed Derrick in the arm to silence him. "Quiet, it's starting!"

The graduation ceremony began, with the valedictorian making his 25-cent speech, the principal making blanket compliments, and then the passing out of diplomas began.

Each student, upon receiving their diploma, would go up to the stage, bow, and return to their seat as the audience clapped. This went without exception, until…

"Jadesdale, Ladis!"

Ladis took his diploma, shook the principal's hand, and bowed to the audience.

There were a few handclaps, but the majority of the noise was muffled whispers.

"Isn't he the one…"

"Yes, he broke that teacher's arm."

"Violent kid."

"He did it to save another student."

"Doesn't make it right."

"Should be locked up."

"Should be in the chair."

Ladis headed back to his seat as the mutterings continued, mentally blocking out everything the audience was saying.

They weren't there. They don't know how horrible it was. He told himself, excusing both himself and the audience from responsibility.

The last name was called, and the students rose for one last reciting of the school song.

The band started up the last song of the year, and the students feigned interest as they prepared to sing the first lines of the school song, but suddenly, the ceremony was disrupted by a person forcing his way onto the stage.

It was Dr. Frankson, a thin, middle aged school counselor with a pathological habit of outrageous exaggeration. He and the principal were engaged in a short, silent, but heated debate, and then, with an exasperated sigh and shaking of his head, the principal picked up the mike, and spoke in as neutral a tone as he could manage,

"Would Ladis Jadesdale please come up to the stage?"

The entire audience and student body went deathly silent.

Ladis brought his palm to his face in disbelief. Every encounter with Dr. Frankson had been a nightmare; each time he'd call Ladis down to the office, he'd make up another reason that Ladis was a deranged individual needing to be institutionalized.

Knowing the conflict would not be resolved until he faced Frankson head on, Ladis trudged up to the stage. As he stared down Frankson, he waited for him or the principal to make the first statement. Frankson glared at him with hateful, spite-filled eyes (a look Ladis had grown all too accustomed to) and began to speak.

"You don't deserve that diploma."

This statement sent a shockwave of murmuring and gasps through the audience.

"You assaulted a teacher, and barely passed your classes. You are an unbalanced, uneducated, unredeemable delinquent."

The principal, his eyes furrowed, reached for the mike to end Frankson's verbal assault. Frankson yanked away, his hateful, spiteful glare never leaving Ladis.

"You don't deserve to graduate, hold a job, or any other place in our society. You need to do the right thing, the mature thing, hand back your diploma, and get yourself institutionalized so they can find out what the hell your problem is."

Ladis' face went red with shame at this indignation, and every fiber of his body wanted to leap forward and start pummeling the life out of Frankson, but then… an idea came to him.

A slow smile crept over his face, which had returned to normal color.

With a swift swipe, he snatched the mike from Frankson's grasp, who was bewildered at the sudden mood swing.

"You're absolutely right. I do have serious mental problem! One that's been troubling me ever since I started High School! And I'm asking you, Ladies and Gentlemen of the audience," he said, waving to the audience, " to help me figure this one out…"

Ladis let the silence dangle perilously, as some of the viewers, students and parents alike, looked at him incredulously.

Then with an exaggerated gesture, he pointed to Frankson "How the hell does a batshit looney like him wind up a counselor! The sheer ludicrousness of it's enough to drive anyone batty!" Ladis feigned tearing out his hair as the audience roared with laughter.

"I've been down to his office twenty times, just this semester, all at his personal request, never at a teacher's. Each session lasted about an hour or so, during which he'd try to convince me I was unfit to stay in society and was a danger to those around me! He even called me out of a final exam for one of these joyous sessions." At this the audience began to murmur endlessly and glare at Frankson. "So that's 20 odd hours he spent telling me I was psycho and not giving me any advice other than to drop out and institutionalize myself! Often, I'd miss out on important assignments thanks to his little chats, and so he, in fact, contributed to my nearly failing high school!" Ladis took a deep breath after his tirade, and smiled, first at the audience, then to a fuming Frankson and an aghast Principal. "So I ask you, kind people of the audience, is this the kind of guy you want counseling your kids? Your future?"

There was a wide plethora of responses, including a few outspoken individuals yelling their discontent, and excited, beelike chatter among the students and the spectators.

"And so, in closing, I thank you, Frankson, you batty old fart! Thanks to you, I've a shining image of the person I do NOT want to grow up to be." Ladis flashed the peace sign as Frankson as he turned to walk off stage, casually tossing the mike to the principal.

As Ladis expected, his verbal assault on Frankson's integrity had provoked the counselor to blind fury. As soon as he heard the tell-tale sounds of running steps in his general direction, he sidestepped, watching Frankson go flying by in a botched charge, slamming head-first into a nearby refreshments table, sending punch and assorted foodstuffs flying everywhere.

As the audience gasped and teachers rushed over to both restrain Frankson and make sure he was uninjured, Ladis made one final statement.

"Watch that first step, it's a doozy."

He then strode over to where Katrin and Derrick were sitting, and sat down as if nothing had happened.

Needless to say, the graduation's after festivities, due to all the prepared refreshments being rendered inedible, were abruptly terminated, but most of the students in attendance agreed it was a small price to pay for the show.

Gutarez was waiting for Ladis and Derrick at the entrance. "Some graduation, huh?" he said, as they waited for Derrick and Katrin to finish saying goodbye to each other.

Ladis smiled. "Yeah. For the crap, this was worth it."

After a graduation celebration at a local restaurant, a new sensation for Ladis, who had never been taken out to eat in his life, the family returned to the Gutarez home, where a tired Ladis and Derrick changed back into their normal clothes.

"Whew, what a rush, huh?" Ladis said, glad to be out of the stifling graduation robes.

"Yeah, I'm just glad that crap is over. Enough playing hero, enough playing the good guy, I just wanna kick back and relax a little." He indicated his Xbox.

"Wanna play?" he asked, offering Ladis a controller.

"Hell yes." Ladis said, the fun of video games being a foreign, but thrilling experience for him.

Not being exactly experienced, Ladis lost spectacularly to Derrick at a shooting multiplayer, dying almost a moment after he respawned.

"Crap! Why do I keep getting killed?" grumbled Ladis.

Derrick smiled. "Rushing in blindly will get you killed, young master. Be like the snake, silent in the grass, bite you in the ass." Derrick mimicked a karate instructor as he used a few well placed shots to defeat Ladis for the 22nd straight time.

The two laughed, then became quiet as a commotion came from downstairs.

"No, we haven't seen her…"

"Are you sure? When we got home, she said she was going for a walk, did she stop by…"

Ladis identified the frantic couple at the Gutarez's door as Katrin's parents, the father looking older by the minute, and the mother nearly dissolved in tears.

Mr. Gutarez turned to Derrick, his face wild. "Have you seen Katrin!"

Numbly, Derrick shook his head.

"Then where…"

There was a crashing of glass, and the squealing of tires. As both families dashed to the living room, where the crash had came from, they saw the culprit: A brick with a small tape recorder attached, with a note that said "Play Me".

Ladis, not taking time to consider any hazards, reached down, and hit the play button.

"Hello, Ladis." Came a disturbingly familiar voice, reminiscent of Ladis' Father. "I think it's time you and I had a father-son talk. One on one. Alone. I think Katrin would really appreciate if you came by yourself… more than one person coming would… complicate things considerably."

Derrick cursed and Mrs. Gutarez began reciting prayers.

"For anyone else listening, Ladis comes alone. One's company, two's a crowd. Bad things will happen to Katrin if anyone else joins in on the party. It's being held at the abandoned movie theater near the high school. Just the place for a friendly chat. You have one hour, Ladis, then I start the party without you."

Numbly, Ladis realized that his father had stooped to getting back at him through other people.

So he wants to talk, huh? He thought, sick with anger and sadness at the sheer outrage of this situation.

Ladis, ignoring the protests of the Gutarez family, dashed upstairs, grabbed his dowel, and dashed out into the cold black night.

Then let's talk, old man.

Ladis arrived at the theatre, a half-hour later, after a relentless running that had left him breathless. Looking up at the worn, tattered door, he saw a small envelope attached. He opened it, revealing a simple index card.

The party's about to start, kiddo. Come on inside. We've got a nice graduation present for you.

Ladis howled with anger, and kicked open the theatre doors, dashed through the lobby, following crude decorations leading to one of the viewing rooms.

Darkness. The screen lay in tatters, and, on the stage, the silhouette of a chair, with a person sitting in it, were all that could be made out. Ladis kept walking into the room, scanning the darkness for any traces of movement.

"Glad you could make it!" Boomed a voice over the intercom, which Ladis recognized as his father's. "We were going to start without you, but you seem to have shown up just in time!"

A spotlight shone on the chair on stage, revealing Katrin tied and gagged, her face frozen with fear and dread.

Ladis heard footsteps behind him, and spun around.

What he met were figures draped in white robes with conical white hats, each robe bearing the mark of the KKK. They were armed with automatic handguns, leveling them at Ladis' heart.

"I think we've had a rough start, these 14 years." Spoke Ladis' father over the intercom. "and I'm willing to give you a chance to join our family… the pure family… and make something of yourself."

The Klansmen were slowly backing Ladis towards the stage, where more Klansmen had appeared.

Ladis turned, and saw, to his disbelief, his family, Miss Kellsin, her arm in a brace, and Frankson, all dressed in the same Klansmen robes.

This is a nightmare. Ladis told himself. A complete and total nightmare. Did he hit his head during graduation? Had he dreamed the whole impossible scenario up of his entire family being Klansmen?

No. The coldness of the theatre, Katrin's muffled sobs, and the automatics at his back were very real, very real indeed.

Ladis' father work a faceless mask, revealing a twisted, evil smile Ladis' thought only demons were capable of. "But in order for you to join us… you have to prove you're willing to follow our rules." With that, he produced an automatic, and held it out to Ladis. "This girl has no doubt been tainted by that mudskin friend of yours, and can no longer exist in our future purity. If you want to join us, and prove yourself, then kill her." Ladis' father ordered, as if he were asking as simple a favor as taking out garbage.

Ladis looked at Katrin, her face full of fear.

In the end, you got one person you have to answer to. Make sure you do stuff you'll be proud of when it's time. Gutarez's words rang in Ladis' mind.

Ladis stepped away, shaking his head. "No."

Mr. Jadesdale's face contorted in fury. "Wrong answer."

Ladis felt his head snap to his left, his right, then crash against the floor as his own father hit him with a lightning quick boxer's combo.

"Get up Ladis, and for once in your goddamned life, do something right!" his father barked, kicking him in the stomach.

Ladis closed his eyes at the pain, then his expression hardened. Once again, something inside of him snapped.

"You know what? I THINK I WILL!"

In a movement so fast no one could react, Ladis grabbed his dowel, rammed his father in the gut with it, snatched away the gun, and fired it.

Mr. Jadesdale fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder.

The other Klansmen moved in, but Ladis, using his staff and left arm to hold his father in an armhold, pointed the gun at his head, backing up to where Katrin was.

"One move, and he dies."

Mr. Jadesdale, his good arm ruined, hissed in pain. "You kill me, they'll fill you full of holes. You're backed up against a wall now, Ladis. There's no way out."

Terce drew his gun and leveled it at Ladis, ready to fire on the first open area he saw.

Ladis looked around. Nothing would serve as an appropriate distraction. He glanced at Katrin's bonds, then at the spotlight, the only source of illumination in the room.

Ladis made a short, silent prayer to the God he felt had nigh on abandoned him, and moved.

Kicked his father into the largest mass of Klansmen on the stage.

Tossed his staff into the air, away from the stage.

Grabbed Katrin's chair with his now free hand, picked it up with adrenaline enhanced strength, leapt off the stage, and fired at the spotlight.

Landed, set down Katrin, grabbed his staff, fired at the largest know he saw before the light went out.

Grabbed a now freed Katrin, and dashed towards the exit, hearing absolute pandemonium occur on the stage, shots firing on where the Klansmen thought Ladis was.

Katrin wasted no time in putting all her speed into getting out of the building,

Ladis lingering behind to give her cover fire at a few Klansmen who'd spotted their dash.

Just a few more steps…

Terce stood in front of the exit, his knives ready. "Hello, shit." He said menacingly, blocking both Katrin and Ladis' path.

Ladis simply fired his remaining round into his brother's left leg, and swept him aside with his dowel. "Goodbye, brother." He said, discarding the now empty handgun.

As he and Katrin dashed outside, Ladis stopped abruptly, and turned around, smiling a grim, knowing grin.

The Klansmen, along with a now furious and wounded Mr. Jadesdale, had caught up with him, there faces reflecting wonder at why the hell he had stopped…

Mr. Jadesdale screeched to a halt, his hand holding his injured arm, as did the other Klansmen, their weapons hanging limply.

"Oh." He said simply.

It seemed that every single police cruiser in the city had converged on that one theater. The officers held shotguns, rifles, automatics, and other such weapons, leveled at the Klansmen that were about to converge en masse on Ladis. Quite a few of the officers had aimed their weapons at Ladis, in case he was a party to this.

Over a loudspeaker came an officer's voice.

"Party's over, fuckers. Drop your weapons and lay face down on the ground, or I'll give the command to open fire."

Ladis and the Klansmen numbly dropped their weapons and laid face down. Almost as soon as Ladis dropped, a pair of officers roughly hoisted him up, took his staff, and patted him down for weapons.

"Clean!" One of the two shouted.

Ladis thought that voice sounded familiar. Now why…

"Oh noooooo…" Ladis moaned, as he saw the faces of the two officers.

They were the exact two who had arrested Ladis and Derrick a few days ago.

"Been busy, kid?"

Ladis, shaking his head, put his hands behind his head.

Well, he thought to himself. This is certainly a memorable night.

Things got blurry after that.

Ladis was put in a separate cell, away from the Klansmen, for obvious reasons. He passed the time looking up at the ceiling from his bed, until an officer announced he was being released after they had reviewed the evidence and interviewed Katrin and her family.

"You keep this sort of stuff up, we're drafting you into SWAT, kid." The officer joked. But Ladis failed to see the humor.

My family tried to kill someone else to get at me.

I am indirectly responsible for everything that's happened.

As he stepped into the lobby of the precinct, his staff back in his hands, Ladis saw the faces of both Derrick and Katrin's families. Faces of regret, faces of joy, faces of relief.

No words were exchanged, partly because Ladis couldn't think of anything appropriate to say at the moment.

It was a very quiet ride back home.

Sometimes…

You can scream and pray and chant to whatever god you want to believe in and you'll receive no answer.

You can live a saint's life and do all the morally right things and people will still label you a monster and a delinquent.

You can eat all the right foods and never smoke a cigarette and get cancer.

Sometimes I wish I could stop waking up to this world.

But the world I live my dreams in isn't pretty either.

Sometimes I just want to stop.

entry in Ladis' Journal

"You're sure about this?"

"We're nearly there."

"There's still time to turn around…"

"Not for me. Sorry."

And so it was decided with that short and sweet conversation that Ladis would remain at the destination Gutarez had driven him to- a church far from the city limits in a nigh desert area. The normally parching heat was dimmed by a thick veil of clouds hanging overhead, growing darker and darker every moment.

Katrin and Derrick had come along to see Ladis off, saying it was the least they could do in return for him saving Katrin's life.

"I didn't save your life. I nearly got you killed." Ladis wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut, said it was all right, and left it at that.

A priest came out of the door of St. Matthew's, his body weakened by time, but radiating a strong sense of spiritual health as he greeted Ladis.

"Welcome to your new home, child. You are Ladis, correct?"

"Yes, father." Ladis said, hoping not to start things off on the wrong foot.

"Call me Garadien. More formal." He said, and his eyes twinkled.

Gutarez started carrying Ladis' possessions- his one suitcase, inside. Garadien turned, then halted, suddenly, as if remembering something.

He looked at Ladis, and Ladis saw, that, if it was possible, the man had grown even more pale.

"Tell me, child, how did you come to be here?"

Ladis looked down at the ground. "My parents were going to throw me out at graduation, so Gutarez told me you needed help here."

At this, the priest stepped back as if thunderstruck.

Ladis felt concerned at this expression of dismay and wonder on the priest's face. Had something gone wrong? Was there no work for him?

"You… can use help, right?" asked Ladis nervously.

"Y…yes. Yes, I have something you can help me with…" Garadien replied, turning away, walking as fast as he could into the chapel.

Derrick and Katrin walked up to Ladis, having overheard the conversation.

"What was that all about?" asked Katrin after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Ladis shrugged. "I have no clue."

Thunder rumbled slowly overhead, urging Ladis and his friends to seek shelter.

"Father Jehovah, I speak to you now. I have seen your visions, your gifts of sights to be, and I am ready to follow your will." Garadien spoke, kneeling at his bed, having locked the door to his room after excusing himself from a bewildered Ladis and company.

"But I do not wish to condemn a young soul to such a fate needlessly. If this is the one you told me in dreams would come to do your will, then say so, and place your troubled servant's heart at rest. If not, then say no to me, and prevent the needless suffering of an innocent." He prayed.

Garadien's head jerked up, the answer forming clearly in his mind. His eyes went wide, then closed slowly.

"Thy will be done, oh Lord. I know not thy ways, nor the ends that such means shall seek, but I shall do thy will."

"But… lord of lords, he who has tested and sheltered me in calm and wild… I beseech you one favor…"

"…be merciful on him…"

With that final prayer, Garadien rose, on shaky legs, and, slowly, walked to where Ladis waited.

The time had come. There was no turning back.

The Gutarez's and Katrin said their last goodbyes to Ladis, then drove off, back towards the city. Ladis watched the car fade into the horizon, then walked back inside.

Time to go to work.

Garadien met him in the entrance, his eyes… reflecting a strange sadness, like someone about to do something they did not wish to have any part in.

"Are you ready, my child?" he asked, at length.

Ladis nodded. "Whatever it is, I think I can handle it." Ladis said, his voice showing confidence.

Garadien turned, beckoning Ladis to follow.

"I hope, for your sake, that you are correct." He said quietly, never meeting Ladis' eyes.

The words chilled Ladis a bit, but, after a short walk, they were in a vast library, where countless tomes and books lay in great lines on shelves. Looking around, Ladis could easily swear he was in a center for all knowledge, where the entire history of humanity- and then some- was stored.

"We… must initiate you with a prayer, my child. A special prayer." Garadien said, sliding a silver-covered book towards Ladis.

"Now, listen carefully, as this ritual must be done with utmost reverence. Turn to the first page, and read out loud the words you see. Do not stop reading until you have finished the page." Garadien said, his eyes scanning the floor.

Ladis shrugged. Probably a religious rite, he thought. Opening the book, he turned to the first page, and began to read.

By the power of the father and son,

I bid unto this world these things be done,

All worlds new and all of wonder,

Restore those things tore asunder

By the power, blessing, and blood of the lamb,

I deny death, let fate be damned,

I invest my body, mind, and soul

To walk this path, to make the broken whole

As Ladis finished the last words, thunder roared ominously, as if to signify something had… awakenedGaradien kept a calm demeanor, but his face paled.

"Very good, my child. It is time to show your… new profession." Garadien said, indicating an oaken door.

Ladis started towards the door.

"Wait, take this, you'll… need it." Garadien said, tossing Ladis his dowel.

Ladis' eyes shot up quizzically, but he took the staff, and placed his hand on the doorknob.

"And Ladis?" the priest said quietly, it voice almost a whisper.

"What, Garadien?" Ladis said, as he began to turn the knob.

Garadien looked up, and his eyes spilled silver tears. "I am truly sorry."

Ladis looked bewildered at the unexpected apology, then opened the door, seeing…

"What in the name of…!"

A blinding light enveloped him, his screams abruptly cut off, as he vanished.

In a blinding flash, he and the door were gone. There was no hole where a door should be, simply a dry church wall.

Garadien fell to his knees, and prayed to his God for two things.

That both Ladis and all humanity would forgive him one day for what he had done in the name of good.

Outside, the world was going mad. Windstorms swept debris and anything not rooted to the earth up towards a chaotic portal of starbursts and flashing plasma-like lightning, everything touching the portal disappearing into it's ever growing mass. First small bushes were uprooted. Then large stones and trees. Soon, large chunks of the earth itself were stretching upwards and breaking off, being sucked towards the portal, in some sort of macabre parody of a technological avant-garde work of art.

Garadien, from his church's doorway, watched as the world, the sky, the very fabric of this reality was absorbed into the chaotic maw that was the portal.

He felt himself being drawn into the rift, and gave no resistance.

For good or ill, better or worse, he let himself share the fate he had condemned Ladis, earth… the entire universe to.

There was no pain as he was sucked into the rift. Only a peace he had never known before.

"Thy will be done."

Ladis first heard himself breathing. He listening to the sound a little while, making sure it was real. After the phantasmagoric nightmare of… there couldn't be human words to describe the images that flashed before his eyes and mind as he was sucked through the door, he dared not to look around.

He moved his arms. His left was okay, his right fine, his right hand still had a death grip on his dowel rod. He was lying, face down, on something smooth and cool.

His legs weren't hurt, either. Nothing was hurt. That left only one thing to check.

Sight.

Slowly, Ladis opened his eyes, wanting to only catch but a glimpse of the…

Nothingness?

Ladis' eyes opened fully, he got to his feet, and he looked around.

All about him was blackness. It was if he were inside a large sphere that had it's interior painted jet black, and from where he was standing…

Wait a second… what WAS he standing on?

Looking down, he saw he was standing on… now, this had to be a dream… a pathway carved entirely of crystal, smooth as glass, and translucent, but clear enough that Ladis could see that the same void existed below.

Ladis turned around, as if by instinct, and saw that this path lead a winding trail towards (and here, Ladis had to do a double-take) a floating mansion, pure white, with pillars supporting it's overhead. From where he was, he could see that the door to this mansion was wide open. From within, a low, glowing light emanated, beckoning him… calling him to it.

Not wanting to stay in this… nothingness longer that necessary, Ladis walked the precarious trail towards the mansion with a foundation of air…

The glow revealed a hallway, with picture frames adorning the sides of the halls. As Ladis climbed the steps to the door, feeling the light beckon him, he saw that the source was a series of gold torches that illuminated the pictures on the walls.

The floors of the mansion were marble, as were the walls. There was a door at the end of the path, and there were no other paths than the main hallway, so Ladis began to walk.

Looking at the pictures, Ladis stifled a laugh. These… these were video game characters… fictional persons he had seen in magazines and comics! He fought the urge to laugh at the posing of these characters in these portraits, and then noticed something.

The portraits all had one thing in common: Below them, a gold plaque described the characters as victims of odium… but wasn't odium another word for hate?

Ladis continued down the hall, and the pictures… along with their plagues, grew more dark, more ominous.

The heroes who had been showing off victory poses in the previous pictures now were shown battling nightmarish creatures of… blackness, there was no other word for the horrifying incarnations of malevolence, and were coming up short.

The pictures depicted these heroes being sealed in some of rift, being cast into portals of darkness by these malevolent shadows, to await some sort of horrible fate.

The plagues now read: "Odium came and devoured all. Magic and swords prevailed not, and the prayers and screams of the just and innocent were smothered by everlasting darkness. The heroes, their efforts in vain, watched helplessly as their friends and families were condemned along with them to horrible fates determined by the Dreamslayers."

"Dreamslayers?" Ladis wondered aloud. The pictures of innocent men and women screaming as they were flung into blackness depressed him beyond words, so he moved on.

The last eight pictures depicted eight monstrosities that Ladis believed to exist only in nightmares… but, then again, with the sheer unreality of this entire ordeal, perhaps he was indeed in a nightmare…

The first was a Gargantuan lizard-beast, his maw a large mass of jagged teeth and a serpent-like tongue. He was named Greed, bringer of despair. The next was Desecration, a sort of demonic mermaid-siren hybrid, the tainting of the mind. Next was Hatred, a minotaur cloaked in flame, labeled the tormentor of all the innocent. Apathy, an ice-garbed maiden with cruel winter eyes. Cruelty, a gigantic skeleton with bone wings and a crossbow of bone to match. Rage, which might of very well been taken from some pen and paper game, a monstrous combination of dragon and tiger with eight arms, four of which both held spears that crackled with lightning, the luminous paint used to depict the sparks and bolts making them seem as it they could spring out and strike at any moment. Judgment, the remorseless revealer, he was called, was a giant old sage with a long grey beard and a judge's gavel, with cruel, merciless eyes, a light that was not so much illuminating as it seemed glaring depicted coming from behind his back. Finally, there was Blasphemy, a sinister demon cloaked in grey robes, holding a mask of a kind, gentle man, extending a glass of wine to the viewer. He was named the deception of the innocent into doing evil in the name of good.

As Ladis viewed the last picture, he saw he was at the end of the hallway, before him, a door not unlike the one he opened at the church.

There was no other way back where came for him to go, so, gripping his staff, and bracing himself, he flung open the door…

…revealing a throne room with a clown, his garb a checkered suit of black and white, his face bearing paint- at least it appeared to be paint- matching his garb. He sat on a simple throne, constantly shuffling a deck of cards.

He looked up at Ladis, surprised, a genuine look of shock on his comical face, then, he smiled. Not a sinister smile, but an impish grin more comical that it was diabolical.

"First things first, kiddo. Good news-Bad news time." he snapped his fingers, and a large, oversized trophy appeared before Ladis, bearing the inscription "100 sane!... For now…" on it. "The good news is, no, you're not delusional. The bad news is…" he snapped his fingers again, and the trophy morphed into a spider-like demon, laughing at Ladis' fearful leap back, and disappearing in a puff of blue smoke… "…you're going to wish you were."

Ladis finally found his voice. "Where am I?"

At that, the clown laughed, and jumped off the throne into an elaborate one-hand headstand. "Where you're not is more appropriate. You are nowhere and everywhere, kid. This is the everything, and nothing. The infinite, and the infinitesimal." He paused, and sprang again into a standing position, never dropping his deck of cards he continued to shuffle. "And if that makes your head feel like it's going to explode, please go outside. I just cleaned the place 500 years ago." He said, continuing to shuffle his deck.

He saw Ladis' confusion, and stopped. "Oh, yes. You're probably confused after all this. I'm guessing you have absolutely no clue what the hell you just experienced, or why you're here. Am I correct, slappo?" He said, now floating on air, sitting Indian style, resting his grinning head on his hands.

"The priest… Garadien… he had me read a book, then walk through a door, and… here I am." Ladis said, trying to fit into 5 seconds the impossibilities he'd experienced.

The clown laughed, nearly falling out of the air. "Old Garadien made the invocation work, did he? Crazy bastard. If anyone could do that, it'd be him." The clown again roared with giggles and laughter.

"Oh, but I'm being rude. You need explanations. I can arrange that, but I can't guarantee they'll be the one's you want to hear."

Ladis nodded. "Anything sounds good right now, pal."

"Please, call me Fortune." At Ladis' bewildered look, the clown explained. "I'm the incarnation of probability and improbability. The randomness of life. I'm the twenty you find stuck to your shoe and the bird that crash-lands in your skull on a roller-coaster." He made a slight bow.

"Anyway, back to why and how you're here. You see, Ladis, something reaaaaaally craptastic happened a while back." And as Ladis began to start a question, Fortune held a hand up. "Please don't ask when it happened… it's a long story, and thinking about it makes my head hurt like the dickens."

"Anyway, to put in terms you'd understand: Ever read a book or played a game and wished it was real? That you could live in that world instead of your own?" Fortune asked, continuing to shuffle his deck in more intricate and ludicrous fashions.

"Yeah… all the time." Ladis said, slowly.

"The funny thing is, that, at one time, a lot of those "fake worlds" were real. Noticed how I said, "were real"."

Ladis blinked. "What do you mean?"

The clown sighed, and, for the first time, he seemed depressed. "There were a bunch of worlds, actually. All of them ignorant of each other, but happy. They had heroes and villains, and I used to watch all the comedy and tragedy, the heroism and the downfalls as these worlds developed, raised heroes, fought wars, made peace, and repeated the whole damn process again just for the hell of it. Never a dull moment." He said, sighing wistfully.

"So what happened?" Ladis asked, his curiosity peaked.

"Fate happened. Nasty-tempered sonofabitch. He sent this crap called Odium to imprison these worlds in a place called the "Neverafter". You could call it a sort of Pseudo-hell, because from what I've heard, things ain't so hot for those poor schmucks anymore."

"You're saying that those video games…"

"There's a reason for that, kiddo. You see, life's funny. It doesn't like someone to just disappear without dying naturally or unnaturally. So, in the last remaining realm, your realm, people started having visions of various worlds, their happenings, and started making money off them." At this, Fortune scowled. "I'd hate them for charging for what I saw for free, but they were unaware that what they were doing." Fortune sighed.

Ladis absorbed all of this, shaking his head. Even though it was beyond ridiculous, it made sense… sort of.

"So… why am I here?" Ladis asked after a few seconds.

Fortune smiled. "Glad you asked. You, my fine soul-filled friend, have been chosen to be the one to revive these worlds!" he said, making a grandiose gesture.

Ladis nearly fell over. "Me! Why me?" he cried.

Fortune smiled a sad grin. "You went through a lot of unpleasant crud in your life, didn't you, Ladis? Never caught a break up until the end, and even then everything started going to pieces." Fortune sighed. "It sucked, I won't deny you that, but it prepared you, in a way."

"Prepared me for what?" asked Ladis, still in shock.

Fortune's normally comical grin melted into one of deep thought. "Odium's nasty stuff. It drains the will to live from people. It's living malice and hatred and all the piss and vinegar of every asshole on earth and their entire families in a nasty, unhealthy slop. You've grown accustomed to dealing with hatred and anger, and have developed… a sort of immunity to that sort of thing. Odium won't hurt you as badly as it would me or anybody else."

Ladis took this in, his mind reeling. "What about Gutarez, my friends? Where are they?"

Fortune smiled. "Yeah, I was told you were the selfless type. More concerned about your friends than your own problems. Another reason the boss chose you. They're in a state of suspended animation. If you manage to revive a world, they'll most lively wind up there once all the Odium is purged."

"And if I fail?" asked Ladis nervously.

Fortune stopped shuffling, wearing a very sad, very scared smile. "Then we, my friend, are screwed. Royally. As in, buh-bye world, hello, inky nasty hellhole." He said, trying and failing to put a comical spin on such a despairing turn of events.

Ladis stood in thought for a moment, then slowly, his eyes rose to meet Fortune's.

"What do I have to do to save these worlds?" he said, cold determination ringing in his voice.

"I can't help you with that. He, on the other hand, can." and he gestured to his left, where out of nowhere, a man, his face best described as elven, with long blue hair and a wizard-looking outfit, stood somberly. He seemed at most in his mid-twenties, and held a cane tipped with a large orb.

"I'm sorry, Ladis… for what I did to you." The mage spoke, his voice reflecting power, but sorrow as well.

Ladis remembered that voice, the same spiritual energy that permeated every word. "…Garadien?" he spoke at length.

The mage smiled sadly. "Do you hate me, Ladis? Do you hate me for what I did?"

Ladis shook his head. "No, I don't."

The mage sighed. "Don't speak too soon. You may have reason to curse my very soul when all is said and done."

Ladis shook his head. "We'll deal with that when it comes. Fortune said you can help me restore these realms that… Fate has trapped."

Garadien looked at Ladis now with awe and respect. "You will… accept such a task?..."

Ladis nodded. "Before I came here, a good man told me that heroes aren't heroes because they were given the easy decisions to make. I don't have anywhere else to go, and, apparently, I'm the only one suited for the job." He said, his confidence returning to him, his fear dissipating. "I'm ready to start my work, Garadien."

Garadien's sorrowful demeanor was then replaced with determination to match Ladis'. "Then raise your staff, Ladis, and concentrate on nothing."

Ladis, obeying Garadien's commands, raised his dowel rod with his right hand, and closed his eyes.

"Spirit of God, the light that dispels all evil, I bring into thee a new vessel for thy righteous fury!"

Garadien eyes glowed white, and he grabbed hold of Ladis' staff. "His soul accepts the burden and the power of the soulblazer! His spirit screams for the revival of the just and the demise of the corrupt! Let the saint's anger be his sword, their faith be his shield!" Garadien roared, white lightning flowing from him through the staff into Ladis' who absorbed it into his body with seemingly no ill effects, except now he was levitating a good three inches of the floor.

"The armor of sorrow and joy, the incarnate of the selfless warrior… I bid the armor of the Actraiser Master be bound unto thee!"

With these final words, the staff Ladis held split into four glowing orbs of light, which flew, circled his body, then landed on his forearms and forelegs.

And as they wrapped around the appendages, even Garadien and Fortune had to shield their eyes from the intense light that ensued…

Ladis felt his feet touch the floor, his staff gone from his hand.

As he opened his eyes, he saw that his extended arm now had a silver gauntlet on the forearm, as did his left, and his hands were both covered with metallic fingerless gloves, the backs having runes inscribed on them.

Looking down, he saw his forelegs were wrapped in leg guards of the same silver material, beginning just below his knees and ending at his feet, yet giving him plenty of room to move. Neither the armguards nor the leg guards seemed cumbersome, in fact, they seemed to be giving Ladis strength, strength he would need for the task that lay ahead.

"Whoa. Spiffy." Said Fortune, after a period of awe and silence.

Garadien recovered from his shock, and his eyes met Ladis'. "Now you must learn to use the power you have been given. Hold out either arm, and envision a sword.''

Ladis held out his right arm, and envisioned a blade. Instinctively, he grasped his hand, and felt it wrap around something solid. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he held a bar of pure blue energy, the blade about three feet from the top of his fist to the tip, and a shorter stub sticking out below his hand, like the grip of a real sword,

Giving it a few practice swings at the empty space, Ladis felt it to have weight enough to give him a feel for it, yet not enough to encumber him.

"That energy is called the Soul Blade. It's your will and your faith focused into a blade of light that can destroy odium. As you grow stronger, it will grow stronger."

Garadien explained.

"Now let's move onto defense. Hold your arms in front of you, like you were blocking an attack, and envision a wall between you and me."

Ladis crossed his arms in front of him, and, as he did, a rippling in the air began to waver in front of him. "That's called a Soul Barrier. If you need to defend yourself against an attack and you can't dodge, this could save your life." To illustrate this point, Garadien raised his hand, and fired a lightning bolt at Ladis. While the barrier absorbed the bolt, Ladis lost his balance, and was thrown backward, barely able to regain his balance from the sudden shock.

"But extremely strong attacks can still break through, so be careful. Now, as for movement, try jumping."

Ladis crouched and jumped, reaching easily five feet, and landed in a crouch, a bit shocked from the sudden boost in height.

"How did I…"

"The leg armor boosts your running speed and jumping ability. You can even use it's power to dash extremely fast for short periods, but keep in mind the boost in speed will fade quickly, and takes time to recharge." Garadien stated simply.

Ladis nodded.

"Finally, there is one other thing. As you absorb the latent magical energy of foes you defeat, you'll be able to learn magic."

Ladis' eyes shot open. "Are you serious!"

Garadien smiled and stretched his arms indicated their surroundings. "Yes, I'm serious. You're wearing magical armor that produces lethal swords of light. You got your job description from a jester that can float in midair. Surely the idea you'll be able to wield the supernatural isn't too ludicrous."

Ladis scratched his head. "No, I guess it isn't, really. So, how do I go about learning magic?"

Garadien nodded. "Right on to that, then. To utilize magic, you need to defeat and absorb the latent magical energy Fate imbued in his odium creatures. Don't worry, once their form is destroyed, the magical energy, called "aether", reverts to neutral. You won't be harmed by it." Garadien said, putting any fears at ease.

"Now, aether is divided into two main types. Innersoul and Outersoul Aether. Innersoul Aether is what allows living things to channel magic more efficiently."

Ladis held his head in thought. "Do I have any?" he asked.

Garadien nodded. "Yes, though, like any starting mage, it's a bit weak. As you get stronger, however, so will it. Now Innersoul Aether provides two things- both added power in using of magic and defense against the magic of others. It's like magical muscle and bone, respectively."

Ladis nodded, indicating he'd understood.

"Now, Outersoul Aether is split into three different types. This is the aether that helps you actually gain magic for permanent use. There's Black Aether, furious and reactive, which can be easily shaped into magics of elemental destruction. White Aether, which promotes healing and birth, which can imbue healing magic. Jikku, or Time Aether, is the essence of holding things together, and allows for the manipulation of time and space." Garadien stated.

Ladis nodded. "Three types of Outersoul- Black, White, and Jikku. Got it."

Then a thought struck him. "How will I know what I'm absorbing, and how do I do that?"

Garadien smiled. "With that armor, it'll be automatic. As for knowing… well, you'll know. It's a bit like smelling different smells. You will simply… know."

Ladis wondered what Garadien meant by this odd explanation. Did he mean it would be obvious, or what?

Garadien sighed. "That, I'm afraid, is all I can teach you. It's time now for you to start purging the odium from the realms." With a wave, a door appeared in the far right wall.

"Where does that lead?" asked Ladis, his stance showing caution.

"To a place once pure of true evil and hatred… now, tainted by Despair's influence, it's inhabitants are condemned to die again and again, always falling short of things they wanted to do in the short time they are allowed to live, yet reborn again each morning to experience once more the agony of death and the sorrow of futility." Garadien said, his face somber.

"But if I kill Despair…" Ladis said, hopefully.

"If you kill Despair, life will return to that realm and all its inhabitants. But first, you must do something that will awaken Despair to actually have reason to defend against an attack."

Ladis turned to Garadien, not sure of what he meant. "Such as…?"

"At the center of each Nightmare Citadel, there is a sphere of malevolent energy called a "Demon Heart", the source of the Dreamslayer's power over that realm. When it is destroyed, only the Dreamslayer can restore it, and will no doubt appear somewhere nearby in that realm to find who did such a thing. I'd suggest you prepare yourself as best you can for such a battle- as it will easily be the hardest challenge in your life." Garadien warned, his stern tone indicating that whatever lay ahead would not be an easy task.

Ladis started towards the door.

"And, Ladis?"

Ladis halted for a moment.

"Good luck. You'll need it." Said Garadien in a low tone.

Ladis nodded, and placed his hand on the door, bracing himself.

It's showtime.

Opening the door, he closed his eyes as the same chaotic light embraced him, enveloped him, and disappeared, the door closing, leaving no sign of Ladis.

Garadien turned to Fortune. "Do you think he can do it?"

Fortune continued to shuffle his cards, then held them out in a fan, face down. "Pick a card, any card."

Garadien sighed, then decided to go along with Fortune's odd method of divination.

Taking a random card, he looked at it, his brow furrowed, then glared at Fortune. "What kind of joke is this? This isn't the time for comedy!" he growled, showing Fortune the card.

Fortune looked at it, puzzled, then read the rest of his enchanted cards. One of his gifts was that he could let a person draw a random card to see if someone was capable of succeeding at a certain task, but this…

"Well," said Fortune, revealing the rest of the deck. "this certainly is a new sight."

The entire deck, the card Garadien drew included, were blank except for a simple few words written in small font.

Only time will tell.

Ladis, bracing himself for an experience similar to the nightmarish transition he first experienced when he stepped through the door at the church, fared far better now that he knew what was coming.

He found himself, after the chaotic starbursts and flashes subsided, standing on a beach, with blood-red waters and withered palm trees, and devoid of any sort of life, with a dead, cloudy, grey sky overhead, the sun a dim light through the thick blanket of clouds that seems to try to choke any light out of the sky.

A ruined shack leaned on rotted walls against a small rock formation, and a tattered, ruined bridge connected the main island to another, smaller one, which seemed to be slowly bobbing up and down in the crimson waters, ever sinking into the murky depths.

The air reeked with the stench of rotted fish, and the reason soon became apparent- in the bloody waters, Ladis saw multiple fish floating at the surface, motionless. Further up on the beach, a waterfall poured the same, stagnant crimson water into a pool. Along the rock wall, the ruins of what may have been a crude series of wooden tree houses could be seen.

To put it lightly, the island had clearly seen better days.

"You're new here." A deep, mournful voice said behind him.

Ladis spun around, and saw… a man, his form translucent, like a ghost's, standing on the beach, clad in black robes, his skin dark like Derrick's, his hair silver, his expression forlorn.

"Who are you?" Ladis asked, staying where he was.

The figure laughed bitterly. "What I was… was a fool. Fool to a greater evil. A good man turned to darkness, playing the fool. Fool in life, a fool in death." The specter sighed. "But… those who care to give me name call me Ansem."

Ladis stepped toward him. "What happened here?"

The figure named Ansem sighed. "You truly are new to this barren world. What happened here, my friend, was Fate. Fate happened." He said, spreading his spectral arms to indicate the ruins. "They… they fought bravely against those… THINGS, but, in the end… this happened. Despair now reigns over this island, this world, and all worlds here…" Ansem said, his voice quavering. "And to think I once helped such things along…"

Ladis saw this man was in a state of utter sorrow, and decided, for the moment, not to pry as to how he'd helped. In the distance, faint cries could be heard.

Ansem raised his head slightly at the noise. "It's starting." He said, as if predicting a catastrophe.

From overhead, in the sky, Ladis could hear the low, increasing roar of something falling at great speed.

"Sora!" came a small girl's voice from the left end of the island. Turning his head, Ladis could see that a young girl, her clothes tattered, was limping hurriedly towards the other end.

"Kairi!" Now a boy emerged from the right side, running towards the girl.

"We'll make it! Keep running!" the boy shouted.

The girl limped as fast as she could. "I can't…"

"You can, Kairi! Hang on, I'm coming!" yelled the boy, doubling his speed.

The roar of the celestial object in fall grew ever louder.

Ansem turned to Ladis, his face sorrowful. "They won't make it. They never have, never will." He stated, his voice barely hearable over the roar of the ever falling object.

Ladis looked up, and saw a giant fireball was falling, it's point of impact becoming tragically clear.

"Oh God, no!" Ladis breathed. The fireball was headed right where the boy and girl would meet.

Desperately, Ladis looked for cover, for shelter, someway to avert either his or the children's deaths. As if reading his mind, Ansem stated. "There's no way. I've tried. They don't listen to anyone but each other."

The two seemed like they would make it…

Then the fireball, large around as a small truck, struck in between them, exploding in a searing wave of flame and fire that quickly spread at impossible speed, reducing the boy and girl to ash instantly.

Ladis held up his hands, activated the Soul Barrier in a futile attempt, bracing himself for the worst of the flames.

All around him was flame and heat. But Ladis wasn't burned, his shield stood strong, not even fazed by the flames.

When the dust and smoke settled (Which Ladis had to wave away with his hands frantically) he saw the devastation the impact has caused. The rock wall, the tree house ruins were gone, all that remained were a few pieces of smoking rubble. In the middle was a deep, massive crater where the object had landed.

"You're… still alive?" gasped Ansem.

Turning, Ladis saw that Ansem's depressed expression had turned into one of amazement, seeing that Ladis was unharmed.

"Yeah… I'm fine…" said Ladis. He looked about futilely for any sign of survivors other than he. There were none, save for the shade named Ansem.

"Incredible. It's a miracle…" said Ansem, who's gaze now rested on the gauntlets and leg armor Ladis bore. "Absolutely incredible…" he looked up at Ladis expectedly. "Are you the one…?"

"If you mean the guy who supposed to kick these "Dreamslayers" asses, then yes, I'm the guy." Ladis said, nodding.

A thought struck him. "Uh, listen… do you know where a "Nightmare Citadel" is?" he asked Ansem, expecting the shade to shake his head or say that he had no idea what he was talking about.

Instead, however, the shade lifted a shaking spectral arm and pointed at the crater. "There… inside the crater you will find, deep underground, the lair of the demon Despair, the Nightmare Citadel of earth. I have attempted to enter it, but the Odium repels me without fail each time, as I am without magic or weapon in this form." He said sadly.

Ladis nodded, and ran towards the crater. Looking down, he saw a crude stairwell leading into the inky blackness. An aura of hopelessness and ill-will hit him like heat from an oven, but he remained unfazed.

Forming the soul blade in his right hand, and gripping the bottom portion with his left, he found the blade burned even brighter, grew a bit longer, a sure sign that gripping the weapon with both hands intensified it's power.

Pushing aside all fear, Ladis charged down into the dark abyss of the crater, running down the steps without hesitating…

The war against Fate had begun.