A/N: Welcome all to the first chapter in Paradise of Light and Shadow! Let's clear a few things up before we get on with the show, shall we?
First, to all Vocaloid fans. If you have no idea what 'Vocaloid' is, skip this paragraph. If you were wondering, yes, the title is the same as the song 'Paradise of Light and Shadow'. I actually started writing this story to be based on the story line of that song, but it took on a life of its own. The title simply stuck, but I take no credit for making it up. Please note that this is the farthest thing from a song-fic, as well.
Second of all, this story is actually been written from start to finish, so if you enjoy this first chapter, there won't be a worry of writers block. If there is a bit of a longer wait, it's because something has happened in real life and I can't upload a chapter in time, or my three editors are taking their time with a chapter.
Third, I accept all DECENT reviews. That means I do not take very kindly to badly-written flames. I will take a good reason as to why you do or do not like the story, but I'll be honest. The comment 'Y do u even bother righting' don't exactly help me out over here. Sorry if that offends anyone, but that's just how I am. And if anyone sees a mistake I or one of my editors missed, let me know! It helps out the story, and my own writing in general.
Lastly, I hope you enjoy my hard work! ...Seriously, this sucker's taken over a half of a year to write, and it's still not done being fixed up. On with the show!
~D/P
Chapter I
To Bowerstone
The bright sun cast golden rays on the port city of Bloodstone. People began to emerge from their homes, and the local pub. A bell chimed out on the port from one of the ships as it cast off. At the far east of the town, in the Bloodstone Manor, the hero of Albion, Sparrow watched all this from the balcony.
The hero was one of the few unmistakable people in the area, and not just because she carried a large cleaver as a weapon. Those who spoke of her said she held the ocean in her eyes. She was also remarkably pale for someone who saw nothing but sun nearly every day. The presence of her dog also gave her away quite easily, as it seemed very few people could afford to keep pets.
The cold wind from the sea blew Sparrow's brown locks of hair around her face, showing a faded scar from the top of her forehead down to the middle of her cheek, trailing over one of her blue eyes. She brushed the hair back into place, like she had been doing it for years.
Ten months ago, she had purchased the manor. Along with it was a note from the infamous pirate king who previously owned the manor. She took it seriously, thinking that he would return and kill her. After the first three months when nothing happened, she stopped worrying. In fact, when she asked about him down at the pub once, the barman asked who Reaver was. Sparrow had winced; if Reaver had heard that, Bloodstone would have to find a new barman.
So Sparrow slowly forgot about the note, and now it was like the memory of her parents. Non-existent.
As the sun crept up into the sky and people began wandering the streets, Sparrow could see the figures of a few men making their way to the manor. She sighed, blowing her bangs away from her face, and walked inside. She shut and locked the door before moving into the study.
The men outside were ones that had shown up every day for almost a month now, angrily asking for an engagement ring. It was beyond Sparrow why any of them thought they had a right to ask her such questions. She didn't even know any of their names!
Sparrow entered the study and was greeted by her dog, Cora, who licked her furiously on the face when she got the chance. Sparrow laughed and eventually pushed her dog away, wiping the slobber from her face.
Sometimes Sparrow wondered if the dog of a hero lived as long as a human would. The dog had to be nearing twenty-five, and still was as loving- and vicious in battle- as ever.
Sparrow took a seat at the oak table after pulling one of the books off the shelf. Her black coat was thrown onto the back of the chair, showing the clothes underneath. She wore clothes that were similar to a bandit's, which she had bought as soon as she had made it to Bowerstone at the start of her journey. The only thing that she ever changed was her boots; they now had a small knife attached to the back in case of an unexpected attack.
She opened the book and read, while Cora took her place near the fire pit. Sparrow flipped through the pages for almost a half-an-hour, when she abruptly shut the book and slammed it down on the table. Her dog jumped up and was instantly at Sparrows side.
"Remind me to sell Cold Lips, Cora," she mumbled. "That and any other copy I find."
Sparrow sighed and stood, looking through the books shelves again. Just as she pulled out another book, there was a knock at the door. She sighed and walked out of the study. Cora followed her, growling slightly. She unlocked and opened the door, giving her guest an impatient look.
"Message for you, Lady Bloodstone," the messenger said. Sparrow rolled her eyes at the name and took the scroll the messenger was holding. It was a bit like an advertisement, and it told her that Castle Fairfax was for sale.
"I'm not interested," Sparrow muttered, handing the scroll back to the messenger. He took it and backed away.
"Yes, Lady Bloodstone."
As he walked away, Sparrow called after him, "That's not my name, ya know!"
He didn't seem to hear her, but the men from earlier did. They came running this time, and Sparrow shut the doors as quick as she could.
"When will they take a hint!" she whispered, going back to the study. Cora barked at her and she stopped for a moment. It only just occurred to her that she did need to get to Bowerstone to pick up the rent the people owed her. It was being kept in the hands of a guard, who knew his job depended on doing that simple task. Sparrow hit her forehead with the palm of her hand, and raced back to the front doors. Cora followed her as she pushed her way through the men crowded at the entrance. A quick force push from her hand sent the doors flying shut, and the men running.
Sparrow raced down the street, looking for the messenger she had sent away. If he came here without being killed, he had to of taken a carriage. If she was lucky, she could hop on and save herself the trouble of going through Wraithmarsh or the Bandit Coast on foot. Strangely enough, bandits, banshees and hollow men seemed to leave carriages alone, but would attack if anyone was on foot.
As she turned the corner of the street, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.
"There she is! Get her!"
The hand that grabbed her belonged to a very angry-looking man. Sparrow could see a faint red glow around him, meaning that he was going to try to kill her- or worse.
The first blow that was struck was blocked by her cleaver. She twisted her wrist away from the man and ran as fast as she could, then stopped. Summoning up all the will she could, she formed a ball of light in her hands. When the light hit the ground, time slowed for her and she ran from the town. As soon as everything slowed down, she was at the edge of the town. Cora was at her side, looking up at her as if to ask 'what now?'
Sparrow sighed and turned to the road that lead to Wraithmarsh.
"I guess we walk and hope we don't run into any banshees on the way," she mumbled.
Sparrow arrived in Bowerstone five days later, covered in mud, sweat, and banshee blood that looked more like ink. Cora was at her side, limping along as fast as she could. Despite her horrific appearance, she was welcomed by one of the local guards. She nodded a 'hello' to him, and then made her way to the general store.
The owner greeted her and gladly gave her what she needed: a beer, medicine for her dog, and the location of the guard with her money. Sparrow thanked her, gave the medicine to Cora, then left to find the guard. There was no trouble doing so. He ran up to her as soon as she was in his sight. He gave her the bag which contained about 50,000 gold, then walked off. Sparrow sighed and opened the beer bottle, took a drink, and gave it to a near-by beggar who took it without question.
Her next stop was to her own small home in Bowerstone. She kept it for herself in case Reaver ever did decide to show up and she went homeless. That, however, like his note, had been forgotten. She opened the door, and seeing the familiar crowd of men gather all to ask her the same question, she shut the door and turned the lock. Cora stayed outside on the steps to her home, growling at anyone who tried to get to the door.
The first thing Sparrow did was go upstairs, lay down on her bed, and took a twenty-four hour nap, unaware of what was about to happen in Bloodstone.
At that very same time, a new ship was nearing Bloodstone. On deck stood Reaver, who was straining his eyes to see land. His trip with Garth had gone somewhat wrong from the very start. The land the blind woman sent the both of them to wasn't what he expected. Sure, the people were… friendly enough for him. In fact, they were a bit too friendly. He had stolen the first ship he could, rounded up what bandits came passing through, and set sail for the small islands that dotted the horizon. Before that, however, he made an attempt to kill the other hero. Whether or not he did wasn't a concern to him.
He found the same sort of people there as well, but managed to tolerate their strange ways for a few months. When he couldn't stand the heat anymore, he once again set sail back to Albion, with what treasure he could steal from the island. A storm had slowed them down by a month, and now only a few crew-members were alive. Reaver either killed the rest or watched from a distance as they drowned. He didn't give them much thought. He was more interested in who now owned his precious manor, and who he was going to kill to get it back.
Reaver's ship made port within the hour, yet he felt that something was wrong. People cast him odd looks as soon as he stepped onto the port. The women of the town continued their business without a glance. Something was very wrong indeed. He strode into pub and went up to the bar.
"What'll ya have?" the barman mumbled.
"The best you've got." Reaver said, looking back at the crowd in the pub. Still no one seemed to recognize him. "I say, it seems I have been quite forgotten here."
"Well, I've never seen ya around here," the barman muttered, handing Reaver a bottle of ale.
"Does the name Reaver ring a bell by any chance?" The barman laughed.
"Nope. That's what I told that miss a while ago, too." Reaver felt almost relieved. At least someone remembered him… and that someone was a girl.
"And who might this lass be?"
"Lady Bloodstone herself."
Someone has bought the manor… Reaver thought.
"And you're sure you've never heard of a Reaver?"
The barman shook his head.
"Well, I'll tell you something, my good man." Reaver said, lowering his voice. Without the barman seeing, he pulled out his Dragonstomper .48. "I am Reaver."
The sound of a gunshot echoed out of the pub and out into the streets. Everyone stopped, and those in the pub at the time turned to look at Reaver. "And don't you forget it. Tatty-bye."
While smirking at the opened-mouthed people, Reaver left and made his way up the hill to the Bloodstone Manor. He expected the door to be locked when he got there, but it wasn't. Whoever this 'Lady Bloodstone' was, she must have not read his note properly. He stepped inside to find almost everything as he left it. The study had been rearranged just a bit, and when he went upstairs he found the beds had been changed. It wasn't anything he couldn't fix… or hire someone to fix, for that matter.
Sparrow woke the next day a bit happier than before. She made her way to the tailors to get replacement clothes, for the ones she had were torn and stained beyond repair. Her second trip led her to the blacksmiths. The small riot in Bloodstone reminded her she needed to get her cleaver sharpened. While the blacksmith worked, Sparrow wandered the markets of Old Town, saying hello to the guard she had helped so many years ago when his warrants blew off. He offered her a bounty-hunting job, but she declined. Without her cleaver, she would hardly survive anything fighting-wise. Swords would only be thrown back in her face because they were too light for her to use. Hammers made too much of a mess for even her to handle. Axes had snapped on her in the past and weren't much use in close combat.
Even when she found a clockwork pistol in a chest, she still refused to use guns. The only other ranged weapon she owned was a crossbow, and it was meant for long-range killing. Her will wasn't strong, either. She could only slow down time around her for a few seconds, which she named time control. That along with another spell she named force push, which only knocked people to the ground, made her will good for running away, but not for fighting. Even with those two spells, the blue lines that most will-users had never appeared on her own white skin.
Sparrow retrieved her cleaver within the hour, and went back to her house in Bowerstone. She figured that the men of Bloodstone would still be looking for her, and she wanted nothing to do with them. She laid her travel sack on the wooden table and sat down, dumping out what she brought. Inside was the clockwork pistol, a few books which she meant to sell, and a few pieces of paper. She picked up the first piece that she could reach, and read it over. Written on it was a detailed description of a nightmare. Sparrow shuddered at the thought of watching a village burn to the ground, and knowing exactly why.
It occurred to her then what Reaver had to deal with. From the writing, it sounded as if this nightmare happened quite often. Yet before she could feel sorry for him, she reminded herself that he deserved it. He let those people die for nothing, and he deserved it.
Sparrow now wished she had kept that beer bottle.
Edit: Huh. It seems as though the italic font was a bit screwed up. I've fixed it, and gone back to the original document. It was fine there, so I'm guessing it's a problem with FF. Hopefully that won't happen in the future, and I'm sorry if it messed up any part of the story for those of you who have read the chapter.
~D/P
