AN: So, forgive the fact that this is an OC fanfiction because I wouldn't usually write them but I was just struck with inspiration after watching some .hack// legend of the twilight and so I decided to write in and around that time. . . so, here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Church of the Faithful

Chapter 1

Server: Iota

Root Town: Flanoire

Log In-

User: Maryweather

Class: Wavemaster

Administrator Note: Guildmaster of Church of the Faithful guild

Log In Completed.

Welcome to The World.

A flash of white light forces my eyes into slits. Why do the administrators always make the sun so bright in the Root Towns? I'll have to bring it up with Balmung.

Mirielle: Good morning, Mary-chan!

Maryweather: Greetings, Mirielle. Though I do not wish to correct you anymore, please do not call me Mary-chan. I am Maryweather of the Faithful. Do you understand?

Mirielle: … Yes, Mary-cha—er—Maryweather of the Faithful.

I see Mirielle give a slight bow even through my half-closed eyes. I step toward her into the shade of the large backdrop buildings surrounding the Chaos Gate. My eyes open fully in the shadow and I see Mirielle grinning widely up at me, her staff leaning casually against the wall of a brick building.

Mirielle: Today we tackle RANCID FLEEING SHADOW, right?

Maryweather: That is indeed the plan, Mirielle. Remember, as a hired hand of the Church of the Faithful Guild, you are required to stay at my side the entire time. I forbid you from wandering off to find rare items, and if we happen to encounter any items of value on our journey it will go to the Church of the Faithful, not to your greedy stock of artifacts. Do you understand me, Mirielle?

Mirielle: Of course, Maryweather of the Faithful. Now, shall we depart?

Mirielle sweeps her hand in an extravagant gesture toward the Chaos Gate. A huge, childish grin sweeps across her face and she winks quickly, her eyes flashing with cunning intent.

Maryweather: Perhaps I have made a mistake…

RANCID FLEEING SHADOW

A thick purple mist all around us conceals the landscape: all that is visible is the fog, churning and impenetrable-feeling. Mirielle stands, flabbergasted, in front of me and I see peripherally that Xio is poking the roiling mist with the tip of his Winged Blade of Flanoire (An exclusive item won in the Flanoire battle competitions held last year). Maybe hiring two helpers with no cleansing experience was unwise.

Maryweather: Rip Param!

A shimmering white ball of light bubbles up from my staff, which is held high above my head, and floats slowly upward. Then, as if popped with an invisible needle, the ball explodes with a rippling wave of warm, shining light. The fog seems to fight against the light at first, writhing against it, refusing to be pushed away, but it is soon dominated and the light forms a glowing ring around the other two and I. The fog continues to froth at its edge, seemingly to try and find a way inside. I hold my staff aloft, the Staff of the Faithful, an item created personally for my use as the leader of the largest and strongest guild in The World and step forward, the ring moving with me. Mirielle, startled, jumps slightly, attempting to stay within the ring and Xio, unfazed, steps nonchalantly forward at my side.

Maryweather: Stay close. For if you leave the sanctuary of the ring I will not hold myself responsible for your loss of life.

For what seems like hours we walk, our silence only broken by Mirielle's occasional complaining and my occasional recasting of the spell for the protecting ring. Then, soon after my third recasting of the spell, Xio cries out in alarm, his arm extended toward something outside the circle. And there, within the fog, sits a dark figure, a pitch black shape in the purple smog. Mirielle quickly places herself in an offensive position, her staff sizzling with magical energy, and Xio draws his blade, lowering it to within inches of his own face, his mouth a grim line. I plant my own staff firmly on the ground and place my hands higher on its shaft.

Maryweather: Expand!

The ring of white light around us shutters, slightly recoils, and then begins to grow outward, turning the cramped circle into a space with enough room to allow 10 people to stand comfortably. The shadowy paw of the large creature sits just outside the ring now and as the circle continues to expand, it begins to push over the paw. But, the paw does not enter easily into the ring of light. The shadow around its extremities seems to push against the light, pushing and pulling against it as I continue to grow the ring. More and more the shadow is shed off the creature and a huge lion-like monster begins to take shape in the circle of light. A humongous cavernous mouth hangs open and two snake-like fangs hang from the roof of its mouth and sit atop its bottom lip. Two miniscule black dots serve as memories of eyes, but I know that is a blind beast. The ring expands to completely enclose the beast within it and I lower my hands to their normal positions on the shaft of the staff.

Maryweather: It is blind! Move little and speak less and it will be unable to detect you… for the most part.

A grunt from the beast and then a prickling of the hair atop its back shows its agitated state. The creature's haunches rise from the ground and it looks even larger as it moves blindly toward us, its large black nose twitching right to left. I stand, frozen not from fear but from strategy, as the creature moves into range for a spell.

Maryweather: Die, beast! Do not plague this land any longer! Vulcan Pha! OrAni Zot! OrLei Zas!

Three huge, explosive noises echo through the air as, in quick succession, the spells free themselves from my staff and whistle at high velocity through the air toward the beast: a white-hot fireball, a bubbling, silver mercury-like mass, and a bolt of lightning in the shape of a stretching spear. The three spells make a fierce impact with the beast and it is blown backwards, hitting the ring of light and, sizzling from the power of the protective aura, it is flung forward again, landing with a large THUMP onto the ground. Crackles of lightning continue to flee across its body, ending themselves into the ground.

Mirielle: PhaRue Kruz!

A large bubble of water flies over my head as Mirielle's spell moves across the ring to crash atop the creature, water sloshing against the sides of the ring but staying contained inside. Xio, no doubt intending to end the creature and take the experience therein, moves to run toward it, his sword held aloft. I block him with the butt of my staff and glare at him: This is for the Church of the Faithful. Not for the greedy, undeserving likes of you. He lowers his head in understanding and steps back, flourishing his hand as if to say, be my guest.

Maryweather: Wryneck Pha.

My staff begins to bubble and change in my grasp, the large extravagant star which sits atop it elongates and changes consistency: no longer a soft, carved wood but a cold, hard metal. A scythe begins to take shape and it fully forms as I move purposefully toward the beast twitching pathetically on the ground across the circle of clean space. I raise the glistening metal weapon above my head and, my eyes closed in respect, plunge it into the breast of the creature.

Ending Note: So, above all else, comment. The reason I want you to comment is because I'm tentative about continuing this story and so if noone is reading it I'm not going to bother writing more chapters. But, if there is some nice comments I think I can manage a chapter a week... maybe.