"Isn't it just wonderful that Sarah was saved?"
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"You won't be able to save a single thing with that kind of power…"
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"Every single member of the Black Tribe was slaughtered, right in the place we saved her."
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"In this universe, there will always be those you cannot save. People whose names will remain unknown to us, forever."
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"I will create a universe in which even those whose names and faces we do not know will find happiness."
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"I entreat you all…please do not interfere with me. And one more thing… Never use the name "Faize" to refer to me again."
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"Hold Me Until I Break"
Faize Sheifa Beleth walked slowly, hanging back so as to not be too close to the rest of the group. Few enemies remained to try and hinder their progression, making the trip out of the Purgatorium notably faster; not to mention the pleasant lack of traps and puzzles to prevent them from passing.
Lymle and Meracle were simply glad Sarah was safe; Reimi was relieved to see Edge acting more like his usual self, and the Morphus in their group just saw it as another mission completed. Not even one of them had the slightest inkling what had truly happened in the lonely underground halls.
It was impossible for him to suppress the thoughts - even if his expression didn't reflect his inner tumult, his eyes undoubtedly would. He could imagine it all too clearly. He could hear the guttural screams, see the blood splattering across the floor, and smell the scent of death heavy in the air…
They could have been burned, if not impaled…only the Sydonaists themselves knew what sort of torture those doomed to sacrifice would endure. There was also the possibility they were given the poison that spread the stone sickness… If they had a version of the potion that could turn the body to stone immediately, as the two men carrying her cloak had, they would also have types that could render the body into stone faster than the pandemic. Perhaps it could take effect in hours, or even minutes…
But no matter how it happened, one thing was certain and one image remained agonizingly clear in his mind: her face, her beautiful features, distorted in pain and agony as her life ended.
It didn't mater that he hadn't seen it with his own eyes - what he saw instead was more than enough.
The walls of the Purgatorium seemed darker and more shadowed than they had been when the group first entered. The aura of evil, if anything, intensified after the resurrection failed. The water barrier just above the ritual room was starting to regain its previous depth; it was already ankle deep, much to the displeasure of some of the girls in the group.
Meracle was especially vociferous about her displeasure at getting wet. The water seemed to come from the ocean, as it filled the room with a salty aroma. She proceeded to skit across the area and up the stairs as quickly as possible. She only succeeded in, if anything, getting herself and anyone with the poor luck to be standing near her wetter.
Still keeping himself at a distance from the rest of the group, Faize trudged through the water, watching as the many ripples expanded into small waves. The water's surface was anything but calm between the rising waters and residual ripples form the previous passerby.
He held the hilt of his rapier tightly, knuckles white from gripping it too tightly while keeping the blade rigid. The tip was just above the water, never once drooping into corrosive salt. His face was also noticeably paler than usual, though the group had yet to notice any difference.
He stopped momentarily when he heard a rasping groan echo from the direction they'd come. He whipped around immediately, scanning the area for enemies with his sword at the ready. However, it was a seemingly reasonless movement. He frowned slightly when he saw nothing, but was hesitant to lower the weapon.
It had sounded like one of the many monsters - or perhaps guardian beasts - that inhabited the gloomy halls. He doubted his senses and wondered inwardly if his mind was playing tricks on him. The water was moving in faster, making it clear to the naked eye it was rising. He felt it starting to seep into his boots, but noticed it distantly. They were worn and losing water resistance after several months of daily use.
His gaze fell to the water as it washed around his knees, and over his boots. He grimaced as they filled with cold water. He lowered his rapier and hurried toward the staircase, inwardly thinking Lymle would make fun of him getting soaked.
After trudging up the slippery stairs and down the hallway, the echoes of the group's members' voices once again came into earshot. He heard the scraping of a heavy stone being pushed open, though it was quiet and greatly muffled from the distance. The only bit of conversation he caught was Sarah repeating how certain she was the Sydonaists that had abducted her merely came for tea.
Trying to block the young woman's idiocy out, he stepped into the small lab where the stone sickness was previously being manufactured.
Her high pitched voice was impossible to ignore, even as it faded. Most of his comrades laughed nervously or sighed in disappointment at her incredibly weak explanation. Her conception of reality was lacking, in every possible way.
Useless fool… The uncharacteristically cold thought passed through his mind fleetingly as he walked over to the poorly folded black cloak carelessly tossed aside. That woman's sheer idiocy cost the entire Black Tribe's lives. She was sacrificed because of her oblivious naivety…!
There was no reason for her death… We could have left that night. So what if Sarah was killed? What makes her life more important than the lives of their entire tribe?
Eyes burned an ominous red, he knelt down beside the stone seat and touched the edge of the cloak. It was tattered, even torn, in some places. When observed closely, singed in others. It still somehow retained some of the sweet fragrance from the original owner's perfume. He clutched it tightly, recognizing the aroma instantly. The question of who it had originally belonged to was silently and solemnly answered.
However, when he began to unfold the cloak, the pleasant scent was mingled with that of blood. It was nearly invisible on the dark black materia when in the poor lighting, but the tinge of red was just discernable. His eyes continued to reflect the ill-omened color of blood at the sight of it.
"Faize?"
His eyes flashed back to their natural violet color as he glanced up to see who had called, the sound of the tentative young voice breaking his chain of thought.
Was I being watched the whole time…?
Unsurprisingly, Lymle stood in the doorway, peering at him curiously. Her enigmatic expression seemed somewhat concerned though he paid little attention to the fact. "What are you doing, Faize? Everyone's way ahead now, 'kay?"
"Nothing," he dismissed, voice slightly shaky. He released the material, inconveniently drawing her attention to it.
"What's that?" she questioned as she pointed at the cloak, undeterred by his unusually detached demeanor.
He hesitated for a moment, scanning his mind for some sort of excuse that would make her loose interest. Babysitting was the last thing on his mind, but he was never one to share others in problems. Especially a mere child like Lymle.
"Apparently, they've been conducting preliminary rituals here for quite a while," he explained, voice flat and unfeeling as he walked toward the exit. The lie came unnaturally easily. "I suspect that belonged to one of the people they already sacrificed."
She looked up at him, eyes widening slightly. "Sacrificed?" she echoed, saying the word slowly. Her voice made it sound strangely familiar to her.
He walked past her without so much as a glance down at her, despite her persistent gaze. "Forget about it. It's nothing of your concern."
She frowned slightly and followed him out into the hallway, ready to follow. "But it sounds important, 'kay? Bad…but important."
"Did you not hear me the first time? Forget about it," he repeated, disappearing down the dark corridor ahead.
She stopped suddenly and watched as his shadow receded as he neared the staircase leading to the upper floor. Her expression was worried, and her eyes betrayed more concern than she usually let them. It was unquestionable she would have purposed him more avidly if she had seen the blood colored burning glow of his eyes.
He didn't look back to see her distress; his thoughts had not left the deepest and most sinister room of the Purgatorium.
Her death…was meaningless.
-
"In this universe, there will always be those you cannot save. People whose names will remain unknown to us, forever."
Final Hikari: …I am so cruel sometimes. XD After the paragraph about Meracle in the beginning, I nearly wrote, 'Back in the emo corner, Faize…' in my it's-past-midnight-yay-the-Broncos-won delirium.
Meracle: Dare I agree? -gets ready to duck a brick-
Faize: -backs away slowly- …The Final Hikari doesn't own anything from Star Ocean: The Last Hope…
Final Hikari: -throws brick- :p
Meracle: Meow! -ducks-
Faize: …Teenagers…
Final Hikari: Anyway, thanks for reading! Though this turned into a nice angst fest there is little reason behind this one. I randomly wanted to write a oneshot, loosely inspired by Apostle Faize's quotes. I quote crazy-Faize way too often. T.T But on a more random note, I really want to start a 100 Themes about Faize!
Meracle: Shhh! You're only ten oneshots into your other 100 Themes and it's been a whole year!
Final Hikari: -big sweat drop- That's circumstantial! XD And it's hard to write 100 oneshots about a deity x human pairing. T.T
Meracle: -crosses arms- No excuse! Meow!
Final Hikari: Maybe I'll do it when I have to retire from fan fiction novels. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review or favorite! Any form of feedback or acknowledgement that you read is always appreciated. XD Also, I do apologize if some of Faize's thoughts seemed rather out of character, when his normal disposition is in mind - but remember, this was probably one of his most mentally unstable moments. Even Faize's thoughts would slip.