A/N: What is up with me and writing crazy, crappy, confusing oneshots? I must have some kind of problem. The angel here isn't really an OC or even a character in any sort of way because her gender is unspecified (I like to think of her as female, because it's more convenient that way, but it can be a male) and she has no name. She is in fact supposed to be the Gatekeeper boss, filling in Remiel's role as the angel that guides the Chosen, but that is unimportant.
What I wanted to express was how things actually worked in Cruxis as an organization, because we never saw much of it in-game. But of course, I could be totally off with this. I don't know. I think the most confusing part is the dialogue-only scenes, or at least that's what some friends of mine told me. For clarification - if you need it - the angel is always the one who talks first.
Also, the name Refere popped into my head because I was staring at a reference book while writing it. I don't know. I just really needed a name.
-x-x-
What you remember best is your promotion.
Your commander reads her own funeral oration in the form of a report. The eleventh Chosen of Tethe'alla escaped. Her companions took the vessel with them. …I apologize, Lord Yggdrasil, for my failure.
It is a useless attempt at begging for mercy, and it takes only one spell to kill her.
The promotion itself is a very unceremonious thing. You, clean this up. And take her place.
You know better than to argue with Yggdrasil when his subordinates have failed him, and as you pick up the body of your former superior, her helm slips off.
You catch it before it falls.
Later, when the dwarves of Cruxis forge you new armor to befit your new position, you adamantly resist their attempt to give you a new helm, choosing instead to keep your captain's. The dwarves respect your decision – and anyway that helm is just as good, or so they say.
The worst part of being a member of the Cruxis high order is that failure results in death.
Later, you pick up after your former commander, fixing the mistakes she made.
"Bring the Chosen to me, and you may live."
"Why is Cruxis doing this?"
"The Chosen will become a vessel for the goddess Martel. With her rebirth, the world will be restored. Was that not your purpose?"
"Isn't there any other way?"
"No."
"You sick little – I know the truth! You're no angel – you're just a miserable half-elf!"
"…What of it?"
"You don't have a reason to do this."
"That is flawed logic."
"Why? What's your reason, then? Is it your leader? Yggdrasil?"
"I fight for Lord Yggdrasil out of respect towards him. Under his and Martel's guidance, the world will be led into a new age of equality –"
"You don't respect him. You just love his ideals."
"Why, you – give me the Chosen!"
"Like I would ever hand Refere to a pathetic half-elf like you!"
"Why? What's your reason?"
"She's my friend! That's a better reason than yours!"
"Silence! If you will not give me the Chosen –"
"You're pathetic! Cruxis is just a collection of useless half-elves who can't to anything by themselves – who need to rely on someone else's ideals and someone else's strength!"
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up –"
When your mind finally clears, the first thing you hear is the hoarse whisper of the boy you had argued with. You… killed them all.
It's true. Even your own subordinates lay lifeless on the floor.
Perhaps, in that regard, you are very similar to your lord.
Before…
Before what?
You kneel by his body, taking in what you yourself did. Before, you said that those of Cruxis rely on the strong. In that case, I wonder who Yggdrasil relies on.
He chuckles. That's… the most pitiful thing…
Perhaps.
As you walk away, the Chosen trailing lifelessly behind you, you hear him call out again. Bye, Refere… bye, half-elf angel.
You hesitate. Then –
Goodbye, companion of the Chosen. Sleep well.
You pray that the goddess reawakens. She doesn't.
You realize later how ironic it actually is.
Lord Yggdrasil grows more and more frustrated as the years go by. Three, five, seven… you lose track of the different Chosen as they come.
With each failure, he grows more violent. In time, Yggdrasil nearly destroys the Great Seed Chamber and on one occasion kills six of his best men. Remiel is near death. Even Pronyma has been injured.
You remain unharmed.
Another day, another Chosen. This one is the first from Sylvarant.
"Chosen of Regeneration. Offer your prayers at the altar."
"…Before I do, I want to know something."
"State your question."
"Who are you, really?"
"I am an angel of judgment."
"That's a lie."
"Why would I lie?"
"There is no real purpose in bringing Martel into the world –"
"You are woefully ignorant of the purpose of your journey. Reviving the goddess will regenerate the world."
"A Desian told me that wasn't true."
"Desians are creatures of sin. Why would you believe their lies?"
"…"
"Are you unprepared to lose your heart and memory? Is that the reason for this meaningless line of questioning?"
"Desians… Desians speak of a 'Lord Yggdrasil'. But you once spoke of him as well. You thought I couldn't hear you, but I did, and… and…"
"What of it?"
"Tell me the truth! Are Cruxis and the Desians the same?"
"What does it matter? Either way the world will be saved."
"Are they?"
"What do you believe?"
"Cruxis and the Desians being the same means that I'll die a meaningless death!"
"You will be reborn as an angel. You will not die."
"Are you still telling lies? I'm prepared to die, but I don't want the world to suffer!"
"The world –"
"Desians cause suffering, and Cruxis and the Desians are the same. So Cruxis is making people suffer! I refuse to help you!"
"Are you going to fight me?"
"Why else would I draw my sword?"
"You… are serious, then."
"Get ready, 'angel!' Your life ends here!"
"So be it. I will force you to sacrifice yourself if I must."
Lies are easier to tell when they've been rehearsed. You know this all too well.
When the seventh Chosen is to be taken by Pronyma, you receive your orders directly from Lord Yggdrasil in the Great Seed Chamber. It is an event that happens rarely, and there is a reason for it.
Delay the Chosen's companions after the mana charge starts.
Delay. The word tells you much about your objective. It is not to kill, nor to stop… but to delay.
The word tells you too much about your objective. He does not expect you to win, nor does he need to. He has gauged the enemy's strength and compared it against your own… and he knows the outcome.
In a sense, he is sending you to your death.
My lord…
What?
You find words to be incredibly inadequate. He does not even look at you as he waits for your reply.
But, you think, he is, at the least, waiting for a reply.
Maybe, for you – just one of his many soldiers – this is the best you can hope for.
Maybe, for you – who has served him so faithfully for hundreds, thousands of years – this is a reward.
Maybe, for you, this is kindness.
…Thank you, you finally say. For everything.
And this time he really does look at you. You count the time in heartbeats as it goes by. One, two.
Then he turns away.
As you exit the room you think you might have heard him say something in reply, but you know that it is impossible.
There is a limit to how kind one can be.