Author: Cerena Montanyu
Shipping: Dragonshipping/Proxshipping
Rating: PG
Authors notes: Well, here I am, 'tis my fanfiction debut... ^^; This was originally going to just be a one-shot, but as you can see, it's obviously incomplete. I'm not really happy with this first chapter, but my friends have convinced me to upload it... Please R/R and leave constructive criticism.
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Alchemy... Once available to the whole world, it prevented old age and turned lead into gold. No one ever went hungry, and sickness was only a figment of one's imagination.
...But, with this great power came great responsibility, and with responsibility comes corruption...
The sages, hoping the evils of human nature would disappear if they removed the power that caused it, sealed away Alchemy into four lighthouses: Mars, Mercury, Venus, and Jupiter. The lighthouses could only be unlocked through their respective stones, guarded by The Wise One in Sol Sanctum of Vale.
But without Alchemy, the world finds itself withering away...
But with Alchemy, the world could be headed for sure destruction...
Only lately has a rift in the northern mountains appeared, enveloping everything in its path into oblivion. It will envelop our town in the course of eleven years...
So we should live our lives with no regret, so when the time comes we can go peacefully.
"What a load of crock..." Came the low, dissonant mutter -- luckily for the young blonde girl that had uttered it, only one other person took notice.
"Oh?" Replied the blue-tinted boy next to her, tearing his gaze from the speaking Elder to glance almost amusedly at his companion. "And what has prompted you to say that, my dear?" He spoke the last part almost sarcastically.
"The rift would be healed if Alchemy were released," Menardi said impatiently, ignoring his tone, the young teen rolling her crimson-stained eyes towards the overcast heavens, "And from what I've heard, it's easy to do that! All you need are those Star things, and dump them in the lighthouses... What's so hard about that?!"
"So you think it'd be better if Alchemy was released." Saturos stated calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's what you think?"
Menardi shot him a look -- you know what I mean! -- before glancing towards the Elder again. The aged priest was sitting on an iced-over stump, the center of a wide circle of Proxians. The sad news of their impending doom froze bitterly in the air, and a low angry murmur rushed through the crowd.
"And besides which," Menardi burst out savagely, not especially caring who heard her, "We'll die either way! But there might be a chance that Alchemy will fix everything if it's released, while it's certain that Prox will be destroyed if it isn't!"
This statement -- having been ended with a scream and a stamp of her foot -- attracted the attention of the whole circle, and just as the low talking had started it ended, leaving an unsettling silence. Menardi merely hmmphed and turned up her nose, looking away, while Saturos sighed and shook his head almost in disdain.
"She's right."
This also didn't help the blank stares of their audience. The only sound that resulted was the soft one of footsteps approaching through snow, and the crowd obligingly parted to allow the Elder through.
The old man paused in front of the two young Proxians, observing them steadily with a gaze that would have shattered diamonds. Feeling a little unnerved, Saturos sneaked a glance at his companion -- but he shouldn't have been worried, he realized with a small smirk, for the blonde girl stuck out her chin stubbornly and threw her hip out almost confrontationally. Shaking his head for the second time and letting out an exasperated sigh, he also lifted his gaze to meet the priest's, mentally daring him to come up with something to contradict the two.
"Perhaps," The priest finally consented, letting his weariness get the better of him, "She is. And I presume from your outburst that you understand the choice we have to make..."
"Both choices may lead to death." Saturos cut in before Menardi could start one of her infamous tantrums. "Yes, we understand. However, if we were to at least try to release Alchemy once again... One must admit that has better odds than waiting for death to claim us."
This was met with another long pause, and just as Saturos opened his mouth to continue, the priest cut his silent statement off. "Are you volunteering to go and try to save Prox, two young children like you?" He asked curtly, leaning on the staff for support, before continuing with a wry smile: "You shouldn't make rash offers, I might decide to take you up on them."
"Then go ahead!" Menardi challenged, lips curling up in an almost demonic grin that looked out of place on her normally angelic face. "It's nothing we can't handle! --We're not children!"
Saturos frowned at this but did nothing to contradict her; he did notice, however, that the Elder was regarding her with an almost confused stare. He didn't blame him -- sometimes even he didn't understand Menardi sometimes, and she usually had a one-track mind: violence and vanity.
The audience, which had remained in silence out of respect for the Elder, had chosen that time to chime in with their opinions of self-importance. "Send them to the Mars Lighthouse!"
"Yeah, do that! Let them learn the consequences of their boasts!" Another one chimed in, followed with cheers of agreement.
"If they die, it's no loss!" A woman nearby crowed -- it was strange, though, usually hardly anyone listened to her, as she had love for no one but herself. Although she vehemently denied it, Menardi took after her mother in more ways than one: the temper, the self-absorption, the long, flowing golden hair...
Seeing her mother speak out against her, Menardi was almost grateful when the Elder held up a hand that indicated silence. Almost.
"Alright." The Elder finally lowered his hand and nodded. "It's settled then. Saturos, Menardi -- the two of you are to set out for the Mars Lighthouse tomorrow, and obtain blessings from the Wise One. The journey will be hard, that much I have certainty of, but... When you come back, with the power of our ancestors bestowed upon you, then you may very well be the ones to save Prox."
Though he was sure the words meant to sound inspiring and perhaps even comforting, Saturos could still detect the understone of cynicism: If you come back at all.
Just as he finished forming this thought the crowd begin to cheer, although as Menardi informed him in the morning, as they boredly watched the sun dawn on the day of their departure, she also didn't know if it was because of the prospective thought of being saved or the thought that they would be rid of them.
"It wasn't like this," He responded blandly, strapping the great fire sword that had belonged to his late father to his waist, "Before Alchemy was sealed. Back then, there wasn't such... competition for survival."
Menardi huffed through her nose -- had it been any louder, it would've been called a snort. "It seems that along with our surroundings, our hearts have frozen since the absence of Alchemy. We're all just bloody morons. Are you sure we shouldn't take anything else...?"
Through Saturos' suggestion, she hadn't packed a bag or anything -- the only thing she brought was the light armor she wore and the long scythe by her side. He noticed, with slight amusement, that she chose to paint the ancient ritualistic runes on her cheeks and along her arms, the red paint accenting her eyes quite nicely. "Yes, I'm very sure... We need to learn not to depend on anything, unfortunately. Packs will just slow you down and will most likely be lost, anyway. The Mars Lighthouse isn't that far away..." He paused only slightly, and said the next without thinking, which was usually uncharacteristic of him: "You look nice today..."
Although he originally meant this in the most platonic way possible, he realized later that of course it had to be taken the wrong way by his companion. ...Or perhaps it was the right way. He wasn't sure.
"What do you mean?" She snapped, though a hint of amusement sparkled in her eyes, "You're supposed to be leading the way, not checking me out."
He immediately caught himself and mentally cursed, turning away from her so she couldn't see how he was inwardly kicking himself for letting that slip. "Momentary sanity lapse," He claimed, taking one last look at his surroundings.
It honestly wasn't that impressive. Though the cottages scattered around him were once considered castles in their own right -- with vines and flowers growing up and intertwining with the delicate woodwork of the houses -- now they looked like shacks that threatened to collapse if you so much as breathed on them. The flowers and in fact any sort of plant life -- and most of the animal life, for that matter -- had long since been smothered in the cursed snow. How could something so white and pure be so... disgusting? He thought angrily to himself, kicking at the snow as he and Menardi trekked from the random collection of cottages and shops that hardly anyone bought from that they called a village.
"Yeah, right!" Menardi, in the meanwhile, wasn't going to let him live it down. "I mean, who could resist my charms?" Scrambling to catch up and settling into a comfortable pace by his side, she flashed him a grin.
Saturos rolled his equally crimson eyes, subconciously smoothing his wild light-blue hair back against his head. It, of course, sprung back up again in the weird smooth-but-half-poofy hairdo. "The villagers, obviously."
The grin disappeared. "Well, they have no taste, obviously." She spat venomously, sulking for a good few minutes. Just when Saturos was beginning to enjoy the silence, one that allowed him to concentrate on his own thoughts, she immediately burst out, "But you were checking me out!"
Saturos sighed. "Maybe." He cast her a curious glance, before stopping briefly to find the Mars Lighthouse -- a large, red-tinted pillar a few hours off into the distance -- and adjusted their position.
"Maybe?" Menardi persisted, raising an eyebrow at him. "That's all you can say?"
"Yes." A pause. "People do tend to see only what they want, after all." He allowed himself a small grin.
"Oh, right, so it's my fault you were staring at me." Menardi rolled her eyes. "Admit it already."
"Trust me." Saturos allowed a small smirk. "I'd rather hit on a tree than you, my dear."
"Oh, is that so?" Menardi grinned back at him, before turning with a flourish of her red cloak. "Well, then!" She announced loudly, gesturing wildly to one of the sparse trees that remained in Prox, "Go on!"
"...You're impossible." The blue-haired young man sighed, rubbing his temples with one hand. Menardi only grinned at him again as they passed the tree, a lonely withering thing, much like the rest of Prox.
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