Alright, I got a hacked-together one-shot for you all. The prompt was: search, so...
He was created for a purpose. Not a machine, yet not unlike one. He had a function: restore the waning power of the El. His actions were to advance this goal, but there were no directives for him to follow.
As long as he fulfilled his purpose, it mattered not how he achieved the desired end. Given the choice, he could take the life of cities to accomplish this. Or he could routinely stopper the holes in space and time to stymie the undermining efforts of the darkness on the other side.
But, these choices were no longer his to make. His only choice now was to continue believing - believing that his goddess would come for him. For if he lost faith in his creator and his mission, he would be consumed by this ravenous space.
She would come. She had to come.
Praise be to Ishmael! He was at last freed from his prison! The El was regaining its radiance, and it shown off him like the sun illuminates the moon.
And it was thanks to these brave adventurers who shared his goal. He was now free to continue his mission in the name of his goddess, his creator!
You mean the goddess that left you at the crossroads of reality?
"Who said that!?" he shouted.
"Whoa! Who said what!?"
"Ah." He had forgotten for a panicked moment that he was not alone, and that he sat among these adventurers that enabled his return.
The young boy, Elsword, was the one sitting closest to him and was now leaning away. He was the one who had shouted back.
The little magician girl, Aisha, was staring at him, an open tome in her lap. His outburst must have broken her concentration.
The half-nasod man, Raven, looked ready to pounce on something. He probably thought they were under attack.
And the elf, Rena, looked at him with wide eyes, her pointed ears perked upward in shock. She was probably scared of his sudden shouting.
"I-Is everything alright, Ain?" she asked, concern lacing her inquiry.
"I- Uh- Yes, I'm fine. I just thought I heard someone say something."
"No one was talking, Ain. Maybe you should get some sleep," Aisha warily suggested.
"Yes. Yes, I think I will turn in early. Sorry for worrying you." As he bid them all a good night, he felt… something. He couldn't tell what it was. There was just something different.
Perhaps it was the dusty air that permeated these Alteran tunnels. Maybe it was the musty smell.
Or maybe it was something else.
But whatever it was, it didn't stop him from falling prey to a quick slumber.
That feeling, if it could be called a feeling now, was like a spear. A spear that pierced his skull, his mind; His spirit!
He could almost picture it: a ghastly, half lidded eye of green, blue and black flame watching him. Just watching him.
And watching…
And Watching…
And WATCHING!
"Who's there!?" He snapped awake and brandished a glowing blade of El. Whatever foul demon of Henir was playing these tricks on him would know the wrath of-
"Holy Lady El, Ain! Don't do that!"
A figure stepped into the glow of his projected weapon. It was Raven, and judging by how tightly he was gripping his blade, the half-nasod must've been on watch when he startled him. However, by some miracle, none of the others woke.
"Raven? I'm terribly sorry. I was having the most terrifying dream…" He dispersed his sword with a flick of the wrist and summoned a small sphere of light.
Raven's face softened slightly. "Bad dream, huh? I can understand that." He set down his blade quietly as he took a seat across from Ain. "I get them too you know."
Ain could see the vestiges of intense pain and sadness play across the man's face. He wasn't lying.
"Sometimes, I wake up screaming, too. There's not much you can do about nightmares." Now he looked him in the eye, an understanding glint shining in them. "But you can choose to let them control you or not."
Choose, he says. Ain had choices before, and he did now. But he felt like those choices were now being scrutinized. Evaluated.
Watched.
So he asked, "Do they control you, Raven?" It must have been an unanticipated question, as the half-nasod's golden eyes widened for the briefest of moments.
Leaning forward he said, "I don't want them to, but they haunt me, these visions. I can't help but feel like they do influence me." He shifted his gaze to the open palm of his claw. "Perhaps someday I'll have the will to break free of them. Until then, I just have to deal with it. Being around these guys… it helps."
Ain scrutinized his own hand. However slight, it was shaking. Was he afraid of this… feeling? Or was he afraid that it would take him?
Wait, why was he afraid? All he had to do was believe in his goddess. Ishmael would banish this pervasive thing. He would pray for her guidance.
He would steady this ship. He would take control.
"Thank you, Raven. I think I'll be fine now." He sent a small smile and nod towards the man.
A satisfied half-smile crossed his lips as he pushed off the ground to his feet. "No problem. Get some sleep, Ain." He scooped up his blade and moved towards Rena.
As the half-nasod set to the task of waking the elf so she could take the next watch, Ain let his eyelids flutter closed again.
His faith renewed, he was confident that feeling would not find him again…
How wrong he was. Not only did it find him again, but it persisted. Before, it would only invade him during the night, when he couldn't find solace in another of his companions.
They had a new comrade in fact. A nasod. And not just any nasod; the nasod queen, Eve. So one could think that having an extra ear to talk to would help ease this feeling of unease.
But to seek emotional and mental solace from her was like talking to a brick wall. She was as cold as her alloy chassis, something Rena sought to change. His initial interaction with the mechanized queen did little to ease his discomfort.
That cursed eye burned in the back of his skull, watching his every move. When his goddess would finally rid him of this… seed that had planted itself in him, he could-
"Ain? Is everything alright?" A gentle voice startled him and he whipped around, nearly striking the elven archer with an outstretched hand.
"Ah! Rena? Oh Ishmael… Forgive me…" He set a hand over his thudding heart. Rena looked no better, having avoided being slapped across the face by mere inches. But she composed herself and forced a calming sigh for herself.
"You seem a little… on edge. Are you feeling well?"
No, he wasn't feeling well! Why bother asking if he wasn't feeling well if it was his unwell appearance that prompted it?
Calm, Ain. Calm. She means no harm. He had to remind himself that his companions reached out to him out of concern.
But he didn't need their concern! He needed his goddess to banish this unholy seed! When was his faith going to be rewarded!?
Ain! Please calm yourself! Perhaps she can help. Rena was perhaps the most spiritually in tune member of their cadre.
"Rena?" He looked to her with sullen eyes. "Do you believe in our goddess, Ishmael?"
The elf gave him a puzzled look before shifting her gaze to a nearby flower. "Ain, do you believe in life?"
He was at a loss on how to answer this question. "Life?"
The elf nodded. "Yes. I believe in the life that was created by the El. And that El was gifted to us by the goddess, Ishmael." She knelt down to caress the flower with her fingers. "Some may choose to believe in the goddess herself, which allows them to believe in the El, and then finally place their faith in life."
So she was suggesting faith in a direction different than he had originally believed.
"It is through this belief, I feel, that allows us to remain faithful to the goddess, as we sometimes lose our way. She may not always be there, but life will persist. So believing in that life will lead you back to your faith in the goddess." She looked at him with a soft smile. She had a feeling that something was shaking her friend's faith for him to ask such a question.
After thinking on her answer for a moment, he thanked her for her insight and left to muse her perspective. Perhaps her unorthodox view could serve him well. For him, faith was everything; it was what allowed him to exist. If he ceased to believe, he would cease to exist.
Or would I continue without the goddess? I must find her and ask for her guidance!
Were those his words that he just heard in his head just now? He could not think on that for now. He now had found a new way to believe, and he would not falter again…
How wrong he was. This parasite, this seed of doubt continued to plague him. It wordlessly watched him as he struggled to retain his faith in Ishmael, as if it scoffed at his attempts to banish it. It mattered not what he believed or how he believed it.
He could feel its presence no matter the hour now. Even in his most private moments it watched. But it never did anything else. It just watched.
And watched.
And Watched.
And WATCHED!
He couldn't take it anymore, he had to find a way to commune with Ishmael directly. His prayers went unanswered, all of them. Even the simple hellos!
He had struck out alone, leaving the rest of the party behind as they set to the task of returning Ruben's El. His destination: Feita, where a shrine dedicated to the goddess resided. It would be there he could be closest to her, perhaps even gain an audience with her.
Wait, when did it become perhaps? He was her agent, of course she would answer if he was figuratively knocking on her front door. Right?
These thoughts haunted him every step of the way through Dead Man's Gate. And when he finally arrived at the shrine, his spirits fell.
Foul demons had overrun the shrine. Their dark energies infected the holy grounds like a puss. He wasted no time in disposing of them, but he began to doubt.
How could these vile creatures inhabit this sacred place. Ishmael's light should be enough to ward off their darkness on its own. Was the goddess he was seeking no longer here?
What has happened to the goddess? He must know!
At last he arrived at the altar. He had nearly achieved his desire: To speak with his creator. To seek her counsel. To seek her cleansing light!
As he knelt before her effigy and clasped his hands together, he reached out with his spirit. He felt his soul brush against the flow of El and then shouted, Ishmael! Ishmael, it is I! You're loyal agent of creation! Please, lend me your audience!
He was met with silence. So again he tried. Ishmael! Ishmael, it is I! You're loyal agent of creation! Please, lend me your audience!
Silence again. Why wouldn't she answer? Why would she leave him slipping away from his faith?
Why did she abandon him!?
No! She couldn't abandon him! He had to confront her, see with his own eyes that this was all a mistake!
His spirit dug its ethereal fingers into the flow and pried it open. And then-
Blackness.
What? Surely this must be some kind of joke. Ishmael was the goddess who gave light to the world. She would not reside in darkness.
He cried her name into the shadows, but his voice echoed against nothing. The seed's gaze pierced his spirit, watching.
Why was it watching him!? What did it want!?
And then, he felt a presence. He was no longer alone. Was it Ishmael? Had she come for him at last?
He shouted her name again, but he didn't hear her voice in answer. In fact, no sound was uttered in response, but he could feel the words burn into his mind as the darkness shifted.
You do not belong here, child of the Light…
"Who's there!?" He spun around in the void, but everywhere was the same black space.
I am Death… I am Madness… I am Despair… I am the Shadow… I am the Dark…
These words, still unspoken, lodged in his mind like thorns. But the pieces had come together. This was not Ishmael. This was the entity that served as the foil of the God of Light.
"Henir…" he whispered, dread clawing into his voice. He now stood before the God of Darkness, the bringer of shadow. Was this how he ended, swallowed by the deep abyss of the creator of Time and Space?
I am called such… You are… Ainchase...
It knew his name.
What brings you to the Dark, child of Light? The words came, but not even a whisper delivered them.
He swallowed the hard lump in his throat. "I seek the goddess, Ishmael, to cleanse me of your unholy curse."
My… curse…? What curse do you speak of? How could Henir not know of what he was talking about? It was probably personally responsible for this seed of doubt planted in his soul!
"Do not lie to me, Henir!" he roared. "You poisoned my spirit! You watch me, waiting for me to falter so that you may destroy me!"
… I see… It answered. It seems you are mistaken, Ainchase. Mistaken? How could he be mistaken!?
What you carry is merely a window with a screen into the Dark, that is all. It allows for the air to flow, but no more than that.
"Then how did this foul thing embed itself in my mind!?" he cried to the dark.
… Only those that are faithless find me, child of Light… Faithless? No, that couldn't be! You doubted your goddess from the beginning. That was when the window opened. I have no desire to watch you fall. I require no followers. I am the Shadow. The Shadow merely exists with the Light. The brighter the light shines, the deeper my Darkness grows. Your lack of faith fuels the Darkness within your own heart. I am responsible for none of it.
"Liar! You lie!" He grabbed his head and attempted to drive his fingers into his skull. "I believed that she would come! She had to come for me!"
You set a requirement for your goddess instead of believing she would come for you. In that moment, your faith was shaken, perhaps even lost… This couldn't be. He was forsaken from the start? Faith is defined as complete trust. To demand is to give up that trust.
He just stared into the shadows blankly. All this time, he had been searching for a reason to believe again when he was already damned. Was it all pointless?
Life?
His goddess?
His faith?
His mission?
You found me in your doubt, child of Light. Now, you do not belong here, in the Dark. Return to your world, where you belong…
At this, the darkness lifted and he was back in the shrine. His eyes, before wide and bright, were now lidded and devoid of light. With these new eyes he looked at the goddess' image-
And turned away with a doubting scoff...
All done! Please Read and Review. Until next time!