Disclaimer: I do not own Aion, nor the fanfiction story this is based on. I only own the characters, places, objects, ideas, and such from my "Project Bluefield" concept.


It started like this.

After walking through the doorway, I found myself in complete darkness. As far as I could tell, there were no walls, no ceiling—just a cold stone floor, playing host to the absence of light in every direction. I felt a breeze swept by, carrying the moan of despair with it. It felt like the place was literally drained of its hope, anticipation for the future stolen away, leaving despair to converge with the shadows here.

This beginning, I thought, is plagued with anguish. Hope they don't die too soon.

I looked around in a pointless attempt to gain my bearings. With sight useless, I focused on my hearing. The breeze, soft as it was, was covering up any other sounds that could be here. For a few minutes, I was just standing there like an idiot. Then—

I made out a scraping noise, metal on stone, coming from beyond an object directly behind me. I turned to look.

A set of wooden double doors, fifty feet away from me, illuminated itself before my eyes. It was bright enough for me to see clearly. Walking up to it, I saw that the door was 15 feet tall and 6 feet wide—much too large for one person—and carved from the dark wood of some unnamed tree. The intricate designs and handles of the doors were made of darkened silver. The door's top half was adorned with a silver insignia—a heptagon containing two falcon-like birds, each locking its talons with the other. I could hear the sound of dragging chains, among footsteps and talking, coming from the other side. No question about it—this is the door I was looking for.

I grabbed both handles, pushed outward…and found myself in the middle of a castle hall.

At least, that's what I could recognize from the almost alien setup. The room itself was heptagon-shaped, just like the insignia, yet fashioned from steel-grey granite. Banners hung from the high wooden rafters that held up the ceiling. Highly detailed tapestries adorned each of the room's seven walls. They all seemed to follow the same storyline—love and loss, death and despair, the bitter tears of an albino songstress. Loads of happy stuff.

All around me, people were gathered around the center of the room. Many people wore expensive clothing that clearly defined them as aristocrats and nobles; but most wore simple garments of either brown or greyish cloth. Most of the audience simply milled around, conversing with each other.

In front of me, a trio of wooden seats stood on a small stone platform. They were carved from some sort of tree, fashioned into grand single-piece furnishings. A man with pale blue skin, indigo hair and dark robes occupied the center seat, facing the entry door. He was likely the lord of the people here. He reminded me of a marble statue—all imperfection chiseled out to make room for the splendor. What almost made me gulp, however, was his face: his blue eyes were burning with a suppressed rage. It was like a valuable part of his soul was torn from him, and he wanted to make the guy responsible pay.

Somehow, that reminded me of…a few years ago.

What could've happened to make him this furious? I wondered.

I half-expected the throned man to notice me and send the guards on me, but he didn't seem to notice me. In fact, none of the people in this hall seemed to notice that a stranger had appeared smack-dab in the middle of the room. Then I noticed something. In front of the three seats, what appeared to be rain was falling through the air. I walked up to the platform (Excuse me, sir.) and reached out at it. My hand met an invisible wall, like glass, with the "rain" about a centimeter away from my fingers. I looked around. The wall extended around the center, the locals behind it, milling around in the "rain".

Oh, that's right, I thought. Grey Realm. In layman's terms, they couldn't see me.

I turned around. As I'd expected, the doors I'd come through had vanished. In their place, several feet away, were the main doors of the hall:. Everyone present was starting at them—some with anger, few with pity, all with anticipation.

After a few seconds, the doors opened with a low groan. Beyond them was a woman in chains.

Her head was bowed, obscuring her face with her raspberry red hair. She was wearing a light-grey outfit of some coarse material, her hands bound by chains. She had an aura that radiated something familiar—something from earlier. Despair.

"She who has lost reason and will to live on." Only one person in the immediate vicinity matched that description.

Found her.


They brought her in, set her at the center, and backed off. There she sat, back stiff, head down. Her posture told me that she'd already given up. She was beyond caring how she would die, only that it would happen.

The throned man spoke. "Read the charges." His soft voice echoed throughout the chamber. It seemed out of place, given the rest of him, but it still made the woman flinch. At least, I was pretty certai that she had. Another female, presumably a speaker, stepped forward with a piece of parchment.

I could only wait, pacing the edges of the circle like a wolf. I wasn't really paying attention to what the speaker was saying. As she spoke, the woman in chains, her mouth closed, looked up at the throned man. I wasn't really paying attention; I didn't need to, at present. I glanced at the device on my left forearm. The ZeroDrive (a wrist-worn device used by all Zeroes) would, aside of other things, record any and all information I came across for review later. That said, I did catch a few key morsels: "Lord Carcarron", "Jaya Azhdeen", "failure to protect". The rest was either not for now, irrelavent, or completely false. Maybe all three.

As the speaker finished, the throned man, Lord Carcarron, looked down on the woman with a hard, composed expression. He spoke again, his eyes smoldering, voice in controlled anger: "How do you plead, Azhdeen?"

The two stared at each other for about thirty seconds. Then the woman, Jaya Azhdeen, broke off her gaze, turned it to the granite floor. She spoke softly, sounded as if she'd mainly used her voice for crying. "I am at my liege's mercy."

She really had given up. For some reason, it made me feel...sick.

As if on cue, the speaker spoke again, this time calling out six names, nobles or important figures who would act as a jury. Azhdeen did not move from her spot, only kept her eyes on the floor. From the left (on Carcarron's far right), a healer named Ciella gave a thumbs-up sign and a deep "Mercy." A wave of murmurs spread in the audience, as if her word was a pebble falling into a calm lake. On Ciella's left, guard captain Asric did the opposite: a thumbs-down and the word "Death." On Carcarron's immediate right, a swordswoman named Callyan repeated the gesture. Her call for "Death!" rung in the chamber like a clock tower bell.

To this, Jaya let out a nearly-soundless laugh—the kind you'd hear from maniacal people. Carcarron noticed, and I could have sworn that she'd lowered her head a tad bit downward as his frowned deepened a little. But he didn't stop the proceedings.

Pentarus Lockstep, Carcarron's "spymaster", was next. He answered with a quiet "Mercy."—an act that generated a louder wave of murmurs amongst the crowd. Lord Carcarron himself briefly looked at Lockstep, his face almost impossible to make out. Next came Sryddan Redfeather, the tallest and thickest man in the room. He responded with "Death", his voice booming like a bass speaker. Finally came Kyaran, Lord Carcarron's aged "high sorceress". She gave a thumb to the ceiling and a warbled "Mercy." She wasn't done, though; he turned to Carcarron and said, "I leave the decision with you, Avarran. Aion guide your heart."

With that, the six nobles turned and left the circle, leaving me to pace with a prisoner and her (former) lord.

Carcarron thought about his verdict on Jaya. I kept pacing, intent on hearing his answer. I could almost feel the prisoner's sorrow resonate from her—a wish to die, for having lost all real meaing and reason to live in this world...

"...Mercy."

The softness of Carcarron's answer was a polar opposite to its actual impact. I stopped pacing and looked at the two. I saw Jaya look up at Carcarron, shock and disbelief etched into her paling face. "No," she whispered, as if in horror.

"Yes," he firmly countered, rising out of his chair to loom over the accused, who continued to stare at him as if she couldn't look away. His eyes now burned with both anger and malice - he'd decided to make her suffer. "Jaya Azhdeen, formerly of Carcarron, I strip you of all rank and title and banish you from my lands. You will be taken by convoy to the White Barrow, interred there as a prisoner, and remain there for as many years until I or another liege of Pandaemonium chooses to grant you freedom. Though little enough has come of it as yet..."—and as he paused, his eyes narrowed into slits—"...the bloodline must be preserved."

Jaya Azhdeen was stunned speechless for a few seconds. Then she pressed her right hand to her left shoulder, managing a shaky pair of words. "M-My brother...?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Brother"?

Sitting back down, Carcarron responded, his eyes still alight with an evil fire: "Is of far more use and talent than his sister. He will remain at the Academe; I will send a courier notifying him of your fate."

Jaya looked mortified. Any chance of saying farewell before being sent to a cage...simply gone. Hundreds of others would not miss her—who would care for a prisoner about to be shipped off to prison? And that she would be remebered for her great failure—especially while she was still alive—was unbearable for her. Jaya pressed on her shoulder with greater force, as if she were trying to squeeze some unseen pain away. Her other hand went up to her neck, where she traced a necklace's shape before letting her hand fall to her side. After a moment, she bowed her head again. "Yes, my liege."

With that, normal activity resumed its course. At least, that's what I could guess from. As the crowd dispersed, Carcarron started to give orders to his servants and soldiers. Busy castle life, I'd say, except for the young woman who'd been practically forgotten, still sitting in the center of the hall. Jaya didn't move, waiting for the guards to escort her on her way to the White Barrow. So submerged was she in despair and resignation that she didn't notice old Ciella walking up from behind.

As she gently touched Jaya's shoulder, I noticed something in her other hand—a necklace. Jaya turned to the healer, who gave her a small smile as she slipped it into Jaya's clutching, shaking hands. With that done, Ciella turned and walked off, dissappearing past a group of leaving commoners. Jaya watched her go, before opening her hands to see what she'd been given. As she opened her fingers, I saw, on the coraline-and-jade necklace in her hands, a familiar symbol.

The heptagon with dueling kestrals. The mark of Carcarron.

With everything that had happened to her, I guessed that Jaya couldn't hold the tears back any longer today. As she wept, not giving a damn about anything else, she pressed the necklace to her chest. She's kinda like me, I thought at that moment. I knew how it feels—losing loved ones, friends, family, home—not realizing what you have 'til it's gone.

Still, I couldn't change anything about this situation, this story by another's hand. Nothing I did here, in this or any other world, would change a story or its direction—a fact that kept nagging at me for more than 3 years. Besides, I knew better, and I had my orders. The price I've paid a long time ago... It was enough to remind me of that.

After all, I made a promise. And I still intend to keep it.


A group of soldiers finally came to take Jaya from Carcarron. She continued to weep as she was led out of the black castle, onto a night-covered road, and into a cage-like wooden wagon. As the wagon left the keep, with horse-like monsters pulling it and a squad of soldiers guarding it, she curled up on the straw inside, glancing at the castle for one last time before crying herself to sleep.

I followed the escort party, keeping an eye on her prone form. Once she was asleep, I climbed the wagon onto the roof and laid down on my back. As expected, the guards didn't even react. I raised my head up to look at the dark, grim castle. Without meaning to, I burned the image of the keep into my memory before resting my head.

Neither of us knew it then, but Jaya wasn't going to reach the White Barrow.

In fact, she wouldn't be in this side of the world for a long time.

Ten seconds after I'd rested my head, I fell asleep, and the usual dream found me.

Well, it's official: I'm hooked, I thought, as I slipped out of conciousness. Now, to make sure that others get to enjoy it...


Hmm... Wonder if I'll ever get used to this "test" crap. Oh, well, I thought.

The setting this time is a circular grey-white room. The whole thing seemed to be made out of thick grey and white clouds, though the floor alone was pretty solid. I was in the center, with my sword already in my right hand. I looked around, wondering what how I'd be attacked this time.

It didn't take long for an Umbral Form—a monster fashioned from darkness—to answer my question with a horizontal swing to the back.

"Gah!" I hit the floor, painfully rolling out of the way. Getting back up, I took a better look at my attacker. Although the armored sillouette was constantly twitching, making it hard to look at straight, I did recognize its face.

The eyes. The nose. The mouth. Everything.

Jaya Azhdeen. This thing was mimicking her.

I didn't have much time to think about that before the Umbral took its sword to stab me in the chest.

"Gaaagh—!"

The strike hurt like hell. I almost dropped my sword, but I managed to keep myself together. At this point, the Umbral Form realized that I wasn't dying and tried to pull the blade out. Before it could, I grabbed the blade with my sword hand, uncomfortable as it was, and hung on. I could feel Fracture Fluid bleeding out of my wounds, leaving red outlines of cracking glass instead of blood on the ground. I struggled to keep Umbral Jaya from getting away. With my right hand occupying the Umbral's attention, I reached out with my left, plunging it into the monster's chest before pulling something out.

A necklace, similar to the one the real Jaya had, except it was glowing brightly. I let go of the Umbral's sword (the owner pulling in out of my chest) and snapped the necklace in half.

CRACK!

Dropping the pieces, I grasped at my chest. The wound started to heal, too slowly. The Umbral Form started to come toward me again, its sword swing down on me, my own "blood" flying from the blade.

I quickly dove out of the way, one hand clamped to the wound, as the monster's weapon sprang back from hitting the floor.

GLANG!

Landing on my shoulder and the back of my neck (which hurt), I rolled onto my feet, sword out. By then, Umbral Jaya had already recovered from "her" failed attack and turned towards me. I attacked with an arc to the head, but the Umbral deflected the strike and made to pierce my heart. With my left hand, I managed to push the stab away, but not without cutting myself. I ignored the pain and dealt an outward swing to the monster's chest.

The skirmish drew on for another ten, twelve seconds before I noticed, just within my peripherals, another Jaya.

The real Jaya.

I swung my blade horizontally, my opponent jumping back to evade, before looking to my left.

There she was, laying a few meters away. Right on the spot where I'd dropped the "necklace" fragments.

She was still in her dove-grey clothing, just as she had during the trial. Clutched in her hand still was her jade necklace. She wore across her visage a bewildered, shocked expression that bordered near fright. Her silver eyes stared at me and her Umbral doppelgänger, as though we had just landed in front of her from the moon.

So this is in her dreams, then, I thought.

Jaya looked between me and the Umbral Form. Then she turned towards me, and asked a question that I both didn't understand at all (given the foreign language) and yet understood completely:

"Who…are you…?"

Oh, man. This question again.

Before I had a chance to answer, Umbral Jaya appeared out of nowhere behind me, flickering and shifting constantly, and shoved me to the floor, hard. I hit the ground on my stomach with a dull THUD!

"Ohhff!"

I struggled to get up. The Umbral raised one booted foot and dropped it onto my back.

I almost tasted solid cloud, though it felt more like solid pavement. "Auh!"

In pain, I tried to look up from the ground, Umbral Jaya had started to slowly advance her original counterpart. Jaya herself realized what was happening and tried, half-heartedly, to back away. As it approached, the doppelgänger brought its sword up high, above its head, as though to slice her in half. Jaya backed up to the edge of the room, her back making contact with a seemingly-nonsolid wall. She looked behind her in dismay before looking at her soon-to-be executioner. A few seconds pause, then Jaya bowed her head, resigned to death she truly believed to deserve so.

Ignoring the pain again, I pushed myself up, broke into a sprint. The Umbral Jaya roared something, in a barely-human version of the real Jaya's voice, before bringing its sword down on her in a deadly arc:

"FOR CARCARRON!"

No! I thought, gripping my sword.

Clang—SHLOCK!


After the coup de grâce, the Umbral Form's blade was frozen just a hair's width of Jaya's raspberry hair. After a brief pause, she looked up, realizing that she was still alive, to find her doppelgänger apparently frozen solid, not moving a muscle.

It took a few seconds for her to realize that her would-be executioner appeared to have lost its head.

Then the monster fell backward, in front of my feet, its form disintergrating into dark, dusty mist upon contact. I looked at the monster's vanishimg "corpse" before looking up at Jaya.

She stared at me. I stared at her. As we stared at each other, the cloud room began to fade to white, a brightness everywhere. As it obscured Jaya from my sight, I heard an outsider's voice in my head—a place it did not belong in.

Why did you save me?

I sighed. It's part of my job, I replied.

Why protect someone as worthless as I?

You make it sound like I'm a guardian angel or some crap. I'm not. I'm just trying to keep things on track. Besides, you're not "worthless". Hell, I bet someone's got big plans for you and your story.

My…story?

Yeah. Because like it or not, Miss Jaya Azhdeen, your story has already just begun, and I'm required to come along for the ride.

With that, the scene faded to black.


Well, I'm finally done. Gods, this was a hard load.

A few notes: some material in this chapter may be subject to change. Nothing I can do about it; this is a "fanfic fanfiction" of Bladesworn's Lay of a Broken Winged Sparrow, involving a (hopefully) non-"Gary Stu" original character. As I intend to keep the story consistent the original, please don't expect any too-strong deviantions, like OOC cases or romance between the OC and Jaya.

Anyway, thanks for reading the first chapter, and please R&R! :)