(AN: Welcome to the new stage of history, fellow fans of Soul Calibur. I have at last decided to bring this story out, about one of my favorite characters [absolute favorite is, of course, Yoshimitsu, but he's already got a story]. Once more attempting to challenge myself, I will attempt to include quotes by famous people/authors/poets with great relevance to what is going on in the story.)

(So, here we go. You enjoyed Siegfried, you loved The Last Stage of History, now let's see if the third time is the charm [lol])

The Oracle

"God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled." - Unknown

1584

"Sophitia!" the middle-aged woman called forth from the hearth.

In response to the woman's call, a young woman with hair the color of golden wheat walked into the hearth, where the middle-aged woman, her mother, was helping a middle-aged man place the loaves of bread into the huge oven.

"Yes, mi̱téra?" the young blond girl asked.

"Where is your sister?" she inquired.

"She's still not here?" young Sophitia asked.

"We need that flour," the mother replied. "So go find your sister! Grí̱gora!"

Sophitia nodded, placed her rolling pin down on the nearby table, then went back out the door of their little bakery shop, looking for her sister.

"Cassie?" she called out. "Where are you? This is no time to be playing hide-and-seek, we have work to do!" She looked about her, down this street of the small town and that, but didn't see much. While looking about, her eye happened to glance up to the akropolis, where stood the ruins of a great temple, now used by the Turks as a place of their worship.

It was strange, indeed, in Sophitia's mind, how this place could once have been the center of learning and culture. But it was true, Athens had once been one of the greatest seats of learning in the Aegean. Even the Romans respected and admired much of what the Athenians had done, and 'freed' Athens from their occupation.

But that was ages ago, back when the old Pantheon of Olympians were still worshiped and feared. Rome had fallen, even the empire of the Byzantines had fallen, and now Athens was just another subject of the Ottoman Empire. It was true that the Turks also admired Athenian architecture, and so did not destroy many of the ancient structures, such as the grand Parthenon upon the akropolis, but the Athenians were still not free. They still had to endure Turkish rule and pay the tithe if they chose to retain their own faith rather than that of the Prophet. But for those of the certain mystery cults, which still worshiped the old gods, the greatest insult was seeing Athena's temple used as a place of their worship.

Sophitia was secretly part of the mystery cults. Her paternal ancestors, unlike her maternal ones, were Athenian and worshiped the old gods in secret. Even after one of her distant ancestors married a Varangian woman, their children worshiped both the Aegis and the Hammer as one. Over the centuries, the only indication of any relation of the Alexandros family to the barbarians of the North were fair skin, bright eyes and blond hair. With everything else forgotten, secret worship of the Athenian pantheon soon became natural, passed down from father to son, or mother to daughter in the case of virgin goddess cults, such as that of Athena.

While her thoughts were disturbed for a moment by the sight of the akropolis and what it meant to her, someone suddenly bumped into her. Unfortunately, she was not quick on her feet and fell down into the dust.

"Oh, excuse me," a man's voice said. "I must not have been looking where I was going."

"I'd say," she replied, turning to view who had knocked her down. The culprit was a young man with dark hair, olive skin darkened by his work before the forge, and a strong body, hidden beneath his tunic, sculpted from hours of striking metal against the hard anvil.

"You're the baker's daughter," he inquired. "Alexandros, right?"

"Yes, I am," she returned. The young blacksmith held out his hand and lifted her up off the ground.

"Please, forgive me," he bowed. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's nothing," she said, dusting off her dress. "I'm not hurt." She then looked at him. "If I may ask, sir, what are you doing away from your forge?"

"I'm going to the well," he replied. "I need more water, for the forge."

"I see," she nodded, though it made little sense to her why a forge would need water. Then again, she had never been around one before.

"I must be going," he returned. "Please, give my regards to your father, lady."

She nodded, then stepped aside to allow him to pass, then suddenly remembered her task.

"Excuse me, uh, sir?"

"Please," he smiled. "Call me Rothion."

"Yes, Rothion. Um, have you seen my sister? She's needed back at the shop, and I can't find her."

"What does she look like?"

"She's fourteen, a little shorter than me, with blond hair." At this description, Rothion paused a moment and rubbed his chin for a moment in deep thought. "What is it?"

"I do remember seeing a young girl of your description," he replied. "She was running past my forge when I last saw her, chasing some little animal."

"Oh, good sir, please tell me which way is your forge?"

"Near the edge of town," Rothion replied. "Should be easy to find. There's a placard hanging from the roof, with a hammer and anvil upon it."

"Thank you," she nodded. "Gods be with you."

With that, she took off back down the dirt road that led her back into town. The forge was actually the first thing she saw as she was coming back into the town: it was two blocks away from her father's bakery. She looked about, calling out her sister's name for a moment, but heard no response. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, when she heard the sound of someone crying. Following that sound, she left the forge and came to a small grove just outside of the village, where she saw a tiny little thing leaning beneath an olive tree, face buried in her knees and sobs escaping her lips.

"Cassandra?" Sophitia asked. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" She knelt by her little sister, who did not so much as notice the new-comer.

"It-It was awful!" the little teenager sobbed.

"What happened?"

"There was this cute little mouse," the younger Alexandros daughter wept. "And-And-And...an eagle swooped out of the sky and killed it!"

"Aww, Cassie," Sophitia returned. "Don't cry."

"But what did the poor little mouse do to that mean eagle?"

"Nothing, Cassie. It was just trying to feed itself."

"By killing cute little mice?"

"Maybe it was a mother falcon, who had a nest of baby falcons to feed. You wouldn't want them to starve, would you?"

The younger girl shook her head and dried her eyes a little.

"Now come on up," Sophitia said, rising to her feet. "We've got work to do."

Cassandra nodded as she picked herself up, dusted off her dress and finished wiping her eyes down before following on after Sophitia.

"Sis?" she asked, as they passed Rothion's forge.

"Hmmm?"

"Why did the falcon have to kill the little mouse?" she asked.

"Because that's the way of things," Sophitia returned. "Some things die so that others can live."

"That's not fair," Cassandra bemoaned.

"That's not very different, actually, from what we do. The reapers bring in the wheat that the millers grind into flour, who then sells it to Father, who makes the dough and puts it into the fire, which then comes out as bread that we all eat. Simple enough, isn't it?"

"It still doesn't seem right," the younger one replied.

"Cassandra," Sophitia replied. "I love you, but sometimes you can be a hand-full. Not everything in life is so black and white, you know."

"It should be," she returned. "Things would be a lot less complicated and confusing."

"Come on, glýka," Sophitia said. "We're needed back at the shop."

In Achelous' bakery shop, his two daughters were busy kneading bread dough, while the older one shared stories with the younger one.

"They were almost out," Sophitia said. "But Orpheus wanted to know if Eurydice was still behind him, so he looked back, and Hades claimed her once again."

"But that's not fair!" Cassandra exclaimed. "He was only worried for her."

"He still disobeyed the gods, Cassie."

"The gods," Cassandra nigh snarled beneath her breath. "A fine day for us when the gods leave us alone."

"Cassandra, what a thing to say!"

"I mean it," she returned. "Sometimes, I wish there were no gods. The Turks and the Christians wouldn't be fighting, there'd be no more tragedies, and young women could sleep in peace without fear of being..."

"Sophitia," the girls' mother, Nike, exclaimed as she walked in. "Are you telling stories to Cassandra again?"

"They're not stories, mi̱téra. The gods are real, they're part of our history."

"Still, she's too old for stories." She turned to Cassandra. "Sometimes I worry about you, glýka. You're fourteen and still have had no propositions of marriage!"

"What about Sophitia?" Cassandra returned. "She's older than me and you don't bother her."

"She's your father's favorite, he'll bother her." Nike returned. "But you, what shall I do with you!"

"What if I don't want to get married?" Cassandra asked.

Immediately, it was as though she had said something horrible. Nike seemed furious and Sophitia noticed her hand moving towards the rolling pin, and stepped in front of her younger sister.

"Mi̱téra, please." she said. "Cassandra was just making a jest."

"I don't like it," Nike replied, glowering as she put down the rolling pin. "You lack discipline, Cassandra!" Muttering to herself in her mother tongue, Nike returned to the oven and her husband.

"You know, you shouldn't antagonize mother so," Sophitia replied.

"What do I care?" Cassandra queried. "They have you, and you get to be the fulfillment of all their dreams."

"She only wants what's best for you."

"Well, maybe I don't want to be married," Cassandra began. "Is that so bad? I'm as fast as any boy, tough as any boy, I bet I could even beat one in a wrestling match."

"Is that what you want to do, sis? Be an athlete?" Sophitia snickered. "There haven't been games on Mt. Olympus in over a thousand years."

"I don't know," Cassandra returned. "Maybe I'll travel. Yeah? See the world. Maybe follow Marco Polo's journey to Cathay, or travel across the sea to the Indies? I think it would be exciting!"

"It's these stories, isn't it?" Sophitia laughed. "It's your culture, and it's given you the desire to travel, to fight, to be a warrior, just like Atalanta."

"Except no one's gonna trip me up with golden apples!" Cassandra replied.

"You know," Sophitia began. "Soldiering and adventure is not all it's made up to be."

"How would you know? You've never left Athens!"

"No, but Achilles did. Do you remember the story?"

"About wise old Patroklos and his lover Achilles? It's my favorite story!"

"Yes, but this happened before they rode off to Troy. See, Achilles spoke to his mother, the sea nymph, who told him that if he went to Troy, he would find adventure, but he wouldn't return home. At first, he heeded her advice and disguised himself among Lycomedes' daughters."

"He called himself Pyrrha, right?"

"Yes, but eventually he was found out and went to war. But then he refused to fight, and so the army refused to fight as well, so Patroklos went in his place and was killed. This eventually led to Achilles going out and being slain as well."

"Why do all the stories end badly?"

"That's just the way of life, I suppose," Sophitia breathed.

Minutes later, Achelous appeared from the oven-room, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Cassandra, go in there and help your mother," he said. She huffed and then went off to do as bidden. "Sophitia, a moment, please?"

"Yes, patéras," she inclined her head slightly.

"Sophitia, you've been a great help around the shop. I couldn't be happier."

"Aww, thank you, papa."

"But, there is still one matter that has not yet been fulfilled, which I would like to see while I still have eyes to see."

"And what's that, papa?"

"Grandchildren!" he exclaimed. "By the beard of Zeus, you're eighteen! You're practically an old woman already! You need to get married soon!"

"Papa, please," she replied. "I've accepted the suitors you've brought over, but, I don't know, I still don't feel anything with them."

"It's not about feeling, it's about getting married," he returned. "You know, once we're gone, your mother and I, who will support you, your sister, and little Lucius?"

"Don't worry, I will find someone, if the gods are willing."

Achelous smiled at his eldest daughter. "Glýka, I know that you will always make me proud." He kissed her once upon each cheek. "Now, go and have the rest of the day off."

"But, papa, there's still so much work to do!"

"Your sister and your brother can do the rest. Go on, enjoy yourself today. You're still a young woman. Enjoy a care-free life while you can."

"Thanks, papa!" she beamed, then planted two kisses upon his cheeks, then took off from the shop.

About twelve miles south of the village of Athens, there lies a lake that was once a cave on the side of Mount Hymettus that collapsed centuries ago. Its waters, fed by the fires of the god of the forge, were constantly warm and the cool breeze coming up from the sea made this a small wonder of the Athenian region.

Today, the lake was deserted of all save for Sophitia. Making sure once more that no one was watching her, she approached the edge of the water. With a sigh, she began unloosening her dress. She was not very comfortable with her body, even though she was, as many of this age would describe her, very beautiful and aesthetically attractive. In her time, when bigness was more common and even desirable, she was big in all the wrong places: namely, her bosom. Her waist, however, was a wholesome size. No one ever knew how much she weighed, because she was simply too shy to let her true weight be known.

Once the last article of clothing lay upon the shore, she waded slowly out into the warm waters of the lake. She walked out until the water came up to her hips, at which she dove in face first. At last she broke out of the lake's depths several feet out toward the center of the lake, breathing in the cool, salty air of the sea.

While she was thus bathing, she turned her back to the sea and looked instead at the mountain. At its base, where the lake was formed, there yawned the mouth of what had, in ancient times, been the darkest recesses of the cave. Now they were just a short awning of rock that led deep underground, far beyond the reach of humans even to this day. For a moment, she thought she saw the sun reflecting off the water's edge near the edge of the mountain.

Looking again, she saw that it was not thus. A steady glow of light was coming from the edge of the mountain, like the glow of a torch at night, yet it was mid-afternoon. The light continued to burn, but yet something had appeared from out of it, a shape the likes of which she had never seen before: hideous and yet beautiful all at the same time. It called to her in the voice of a man, speaking her name.

"Sophitia..."

(AN: There, how's that for a first chapter?)

(Lot's of stuff to swallow, I know, but I wanted to do a long first chapter rather than a short one, as is typical. Once again, bringing the story back to its historical setting. Sophitia's physical dimensions are still those you remember from the game series: it's just that, in the 16th century, that wasn't considered beautiful or even ideal [like with Ivy in Siegfried]. The only thing I've added is her pedigree, that one of her ancestors married a Varangian [Nordic people who migrated to Constantinople to aid the Byzantines against their enemies]: this was mostly because I had a hard time believing there could be a fair-skinned, blond-haired Greek person who wasn't Helen of Sparta/Troy. Yes, there are bound to be some 'iffy' moments in this story [like what happened with Cassandra and the monologue about Athens' history]. As far as the latter is concerned, sorry to any Turkish people I may have offended: this is the 16th century Ottoman Empire, not modern day Turkey/Islam. Keep that in mind, please, and judge kindly.)

(As for the last scene, I know the official story says that it was in a 'forest' lake, but there is only one lake in the area of Athens [where Sophitia lives], and that is Lake Vouliagmeni, the one mentioned in this story.)

(So far so good, eh? New chapter will be coming shortly.)