BREATH OF FIRE III
FANFIC
Because I wanted to.
Disclaimer:I don't own anything related to BOF 3 or any other article even remotely related to it. It's just a fiction, people.
Prologue
A lone man walked down the ruins of Caer Xhan. Once a thriving city, it had been destroyed by its people's own power. Now it was nothing more than a dead city, not a single living being to be seen in it's hollowed streets, save for the soldier bots that worked in the local shops, and the lone individual that walked down it's streets, making little sound with his leather boots.
The lone man wore a large cloak to protect him from the scorching sun, for Caer Xhan was located in the middle of an unforgiving desert, surrounded by a sea of scorching hot sand and cruel monsters that survived off other hapless travelers.
The man continued walking in purposeful silence, until finally reaching the other end of the city, where the street met the sand. He looked up and was surprised to see the large chunks of metal and concrete that seemed to stretch out into the horizon. These looked like the remains of a castle.
"So it's true," he said to himself with mild amusement. "Myria really did die."
He walked into the desert and traversed among the rubble, pushing over the occasional large piece of concrete to look under it. It was like he was searching for something.
After at least an hour of fruitless searching, the man growled in desperation. He finally kicked a piece of stone he had found in anger and yelled out in pain. He fell on the floor and rubbed his pained foot. He looked at the stone and realized it was way too smooth to be just a chunk of some wall. A closer inspection had him realize it was in fact two stone hands pressed together, as if in prayer.
He tried tugging it to pull it out of the sand, but whatever the statue was, it was very heavy, and the sand didn't make it any easier. He cracked his knuckles, grabbed the hands firmly with his, and with a mighty yell and pull he was able to pull out the statue. He fell sitting on the floor and looked up at the tall statue. A huge, muscular man with a birdlike face and demonic-looking wings was staring into the horizon, his stone eyes concentrated on his fate. He had a large prayer beads around his neck, and he wore a short kind of robe.
"An Urkan?," the man asked himself. "And a Guardian too, from the looks of it."
He stood up and placed his right hand on the Guardian's chest. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He could feel a little bit of life left in this statue, although whatever the soul that was in there was in a deep slumber. The man prodded a little deeper with his mind and was able to enter the Guardian's soul.
He opened his eyes and found himself inside the Guardian. This Guardian seemed racked with some sort of guilt, because as the man walked down the narrow path of his soul, he could hear the Guardian's doubts and regrets.
"This is ridiculous," said the man. He pressed his hands together and muttered an incantation. Suddenly, the voices stopped, and a long row of doors on either side of him suddenly appeared. Now he could search the Guardian's thoughts at his leisure.
He walked down the hallway, wondering which door he should pick. Finally, he chose a door at random and entered.
He suddenly found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Various Guardians charged the dragons that were retreating. Among them was the Guardian whose soul the man was intruding, who killed two dragons with one swing of his mighty spear. He turned around and stabbed a dragon whelp in the chest. The man suddenly heard the Guardian's voice.
"Something's not right," he said. "Why won't they fight back?"
Suddenly, another Guardian of similar appearance appeared.
"Come on, Garr, before they escape!," he shouted, and ran ahead. The Guardian followed.
Deciding that this wasn't of his interest, the man left that memory behind and continued his journey down the hall.
After entering another series of truly pointless memories, the man began to despair. This Guardian, Garr, as they called him, had almost 500 years worth of memories, and he was starting to fear that he might not find what he's looking for. Eventually, he reached the end of the hallway. He was surprised to see two large iron doors. Curious, the man approached the doors and pushed them open.
He found himself inside a dark, cavernous space. At the end of it was Garr, who was glaring at the man with fierce eyes. He had his spear out.
"Who are you?," was the first thing Garr asked him.
"Before I answer, let me say how sorry I am to intrude in your soul," said the man, bowing slightly. "But I'm looking for someone, and I thought you might help."
"You still haven't told me who you are," said Garr.
"My name is Zen," said the man seriously. "And I came to ask for the whereabouts of the Dragon Prince."
He saw Garr's eyes twitch a little, and grinned. He probably knows.
"What do you want with Ryu?," Garr asked dangerously.
"I don't want anything from him," Zen said slyly. "However, there are other powers who'd like to have a chat with him."
Garr could tell that this guy was bad news. The tone of his voice, that strange look in his cold, red eyes didn't inspire confidence. Garr got into his fighting stance, twirling the spear above him between his fingers.
"I see. So it's going to be like that, huh?," Zen asked. He giggled madly. "Good."
He grabbed his cloak and threw it aside, revealing a surprisingly young man, perhaps no older than Ryu, with black medium-length hair slicked back. He wore a red shirt with very long and wide sleeves, and matching red pants that were also wide. He pulled out a wide brimmed hat from his back and put it on. He then stretched out his arms, and two wide, short swords came out of his sleeves. He grabbed these by the hilt and got into his fighting stance.
"Thank you for your patience," said Zen with a manic smile.
"Come on!," said Garr fiercely.
Zen charged forward. Garr thrust his spear forward, which Zen dodged with a sidestep. He swung his swords at Garr's neck, but Garr quickly blocked them with his spear. He twirled his spear to move the swords out of the way and swung his spear across. Zen parried the spear with the left sword and thrust his right sword at Garr's face. Garr moved his head sideways to avoid it, and pushed back Zen.
Zen jumped back and laughed.
"Isn't this fun, Guardian?!," he asked him with a manic smile.
They both got back into their fighting stances.
Garr was sweating. This Zen guy was good, very good. He was starting to doubt whether he could actually defeat this kid.
Zen was about to charge again when he suddenly heard a young woman's voice in his head.
"We found them. Come to Wyndia immediately."
Zen sighed deeply. He raised his swords up and let them go, letting them fall into his sleeves. He looked at Garr.
"Sorry, Guardian, but it looks like our time is up," he said. "See ya around!"
Just like that, he left, and Garr was unable to do anything about it.
Outside in the desert, Zen looked up at the statue and smiled.
"It'd be such a waste if we didn't finish our fight," he said. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small piece of paper with various symbols drawn on it. He held it up and muttered an incantation, then slammed the paper against the statue. The paper glued itself on the statue, and it began to glow.
"And people say I don't do good deeds," said Zen. He turned his back to the statue. "Come and get me, Guardian. Our fun fight hasn't ended yet."
He vanished in a puff of smoke.
The statue began to crack.