Chapter One
Night
Argh, this chapter is long overdue…sorry! I wanted to publish it in June, but I was actually abroad since May, and then that was followed by a video card problem, then about two weeks of recovering data T_T. That was just the first of all my computer problems until now. Anyway, enjoy.
He could see the sun setting before him.
Siegfried had lost count of time wandering the labyrinth. The days had been marked by the faint rush of water, the cold wind blowing through the ancient stone halls, and the pale wisps that fluttered at his feet. He ran towards the failing sunlight.
Tall pillars now loomed over his head, and he beheld a great, stone vaulted roof was carved with images of heaven. The water played its music amidst the fountains, flowing down the sides of the stonework. Siegfried could not imagine Nightmare in a place like this; the sheer beauty of the architecture and the aura of the cathedral did not seem to allow evil to enter. His footsteps echoed in the halls as he walked towards the sunset. Yet he felt strange, as if there was another who watched, another who drew breath in the cathedral, waiting as he was. Siegfried glanced around him, but saw nothing.
Taking a deep breath, he drew the Soul Embrace and placed it in the flowing water.
Nothing happened. The Embrace remained lifeless, bathed in the red of the westward sun. Black despair crept into his mind and his hands clenched the stone railing in silence. He was at the end of another fruitless journey, had reached the ends of the known world, endured countless battles and relied on the whispers of a long forgotten legend, and to what end? The Embrace still lived, his hands were still stained with his father's blood, and Nightmare had eluded him…
But as he stood, the living eye in Soul Edge flickered open and the air became still. The demon was near.
"Have you seen your fruitless battles to redeem yourself and wish to have my power again?" a voice growled behind him.
"No. Atonement is within my grasp, and vain is your temptation. I have defeated you with my will and it will serve me once more."
Requiem in hand, Siegfried turned to face both his greatest enemy and his former self.
Nightmare bore the remains of the azure armor Siegfried shattered months before, but the form it encased now took was devoid of life. It spoke with each word echoing in its hollow armor, and in its eyes burned flames of hell. The monster's distorted form was not as he imagined; but guilt flooded his conscience when he realized this was his form for the past seven years, the last sight of the thousands he murdered. But there was one feature he did not recognize; a single, bloody horn protruding from the helm. Its red eyes flared when they met Siegfried's.
"So you wish for death?" Nightmare continued. "Very well. You shall see your father soon, and he will realize what his bastard son was worth!"
But before Nightmare raised his own blade, a strange, white-hooded man appeared behind it. The man was silent at the sight of the Embrace and raised his scythe. Siegfried watched in terrified awe as the blades separated in a great flash of light and flew to the opposite sides of the room, where they clattered, dull and lifeless.
The man stood for a moment in great debate of mind. Siegfried rushed forward to seize the man, and demand answers, but the man had already vanished. Taking no heed of the man's mysterious appearance, Nightmare leapt forward and seized the larger blade of Soul Edge, while Siegfried cast aside Requiem and grasped Soulcalibur.
He could not count the times he had parried and dodged the Nightmare's blows. With each passing moment, his strikes became more desperate, and both his blood and Nightmare's decaying flesh fell like rain on the stones. All he knew was to defend himself for as long as it took and find the perfect chance to strike Soul Edge. But no matter how he struck Nightmare, it did not tire, and remained unhindered by its injuries. His growing frustration left him defenseless for Nightmare's sudden attack. When Nightmare went to finish him off, light erupted between them and he felt himself fade into nothingness.
He opened his eyes to embrace the darkness. But instead he saw branches above him. He stumbled backwards and felt rough bark against his armor. Siegfried scrambled to his feet and staggered through the forest with his hand in front of him to guide him through the darkness. There seemed to be no end to this forest, he thought after a long while, and no end to the night.
"Siegfried."
He whirled around, but could not see who it was.
"Leave me." Siegfried spoke to the darkness.
The man who spoke stepped out of the shadows. He was older than Siegfried had last seen him in the dark woods nearly four years ago. Yet he seemed so different, and distant. Siegfried was startled most by the man's expression; he could not remember seeing him so grave.
"Burke…why have you come?"
The man bowed his head in grief.
'You can't do this yourself. What of our oath, and the Schwarzwind? What of our friendship?'
'No one will ever again be a part of my life. Those words were spoken before my dark fate, and they cannot possibly endure the trials that will follow. Our oath…merely words. Nothing more. Leave. Forget everything you knew of me.'
Then a woman's voice came to him from behind.
'I know what you have done. Now you devote your life to atoning for your sins. To walk with closed eyes to certain death…are you not as much a victim of that blade as the others?'
He turned around. Saria stood there, face weary from grief and pity, much like Burke's had been. A fresh cut was visible on her cheek, and tears welled in her bruised eyes. She stood not as the brash young woman he had known, but as one wholly defeated.
'No! No matter what beguiling words you whisper, my father is dead by my hand, not by any cursed blade. I have sinned, and must set out to do all I can to atone, or die. I will not involve any other, nor risk those whom are free.'
As Siegfried answered, both Burke and Saria faded from his vision, and the dark forest was replaced by a wide forest clearing. The wind blew the clouds from the moon, and suddenly the head he held triumphantly aloft was revealed. He saw the face, and there was no denying the truth. It was his father. Anguish tore at his heart and he wanted to scream in grief and madness before the lifeless eyes. But before he could move, the clearing vanished and he was standing in a foot of fresh fallen snow. His numbed mind urged him forward, and so he trudged through the snow with his arm held before him to shield his face from the blinding snow. A heavy wooden door stood in front of him. A woman was speaking behind it, but he could not remember who she was. When he reached to push open the door, it vanished before his fingertips, and he was alone in the cold. The snow whirled around him, obscuring his vision, though he knew there was nothing to see.
The anguished voices echoing in the wind tormented him. There was nothing he could do, he realized. He sank to his knees in the snow, and did not care if he ever rose again.
The first rays of the sun crept over the horizon. Siegfried opened his eyes, wondering where he was. He was reminded suddenly when he felt hard crystal on his back. He stood up from beneath the rock he was resting under and began another day's march, the voices from the dream gnawing at his heart.
Though spring was coming, the sun barely pierced the thick clouds that blanketed over the land. Yet there was no sign of life. The few larches he saw were bare and no fish swam beneath the frozen streams. He had not seen a deer, hare, nor heard the sound of a bird for days. Whether the desolation was due to the slow coming of spring, or the cold aura of the spirit blade, he did not know.
The Black Forest stretched out before him. The great forest stood unyielding before the shadow of Ostrheinsburg. Tall pines were blanketed with snow and a foot of it still lay on the forest ground. Siegfried knew the path through the forest was the shortest route to the cursed city and he could remain unseen beneath the trees.
He trekked carefully in the snow, which proved extraordinarily difficult in his armor. Thrice he had lost his balance and fallen as he crossed the forest to look for buried trails. When night fell, he stopped to rest under the bole of a great pine. Siegfried was silently thankful he did not need to fear cold and death in the wilderness as long as he was bound to the Spirit Sword. He drew the blade from the sheath on his back. The edges glowed fainter than he remembered, but the core shone brighter, as if it was alive. He was suddenly aware of that the sword may house a spirit much like Soul Edge had been. He had spoken to it, but the true nature of the sword remained unknown to him, and he dared not ask it. It had left him in a strange existence. Siegfried felt he may no longer be human, as he felt not the hunger, thirst or cold. But his deeply harbored regrets remained with him, yet it was not the same as before. The urgency to destroy Soul Edge slowly filled his waking thoughts.
He wondered what else the sword would ask for return before he drifted into sleep.
The next day's march began under a sunless sky. The resulting cold did not trouble Siegfried at all, and neither did the accompanying wind. After he had been walking for an hour, he stopped. The old trail he had been walking along suddenly came to a dead end on a cliff edge. A great mountain loomed in the distance and though he could not see it, he knew that the ruins of the cursed city lay within its western slopes by the Rhine.
Siegfried looked around. There was no path to the lower part of the forest. He could not turn back to seek another trail; he had no time for that. He looked down the edge, and saw a small boulder jutting out of the rock face. Siegfried took a deep breath and lowered himself off the edge to test the strength of the foothold. It supported his weight, but barely a minute after he stood, the rock beneath his right hand crumbled. Siegfried cursed at his ill luck, but the rock under his left hand stood fast. He spent a considerable amount of time looking for more footholds and endured a few falls, but he finally managed to reach the base of the cliff.
There was no trail to follow anymore. The snow was much deeper here, and the trees grew more thickly. Siegfried trudged through this desolate region for several days and stopped only when night fell and it became difficult to see properly.
By the end of the fourth day, he noticed the land was sloping upwards. He had reached the base of the mountain. Siegfried turned southward for a time, but resumed his westward journey as soon as he reached the southern base of the great peak. He did not notice a change in the forest during the last few days of the journey. There had been great snows, low hanging branches that occasionally caught his cloak and scratched his face, and the brooding silence. But suddenly he noticed the snow was thinning and the pine needles were dried and sickly-looking. Siegfried's concerns grew as he noticed more and more of the great forest exhibited signs of this curse. He stopped to examine the trunk of a particularly weak fir.
Soulcalibur sent a chill to his back. He drew the blade. The sword beckoned him to plant it in the ground. Siegfried hesitated, but he obeyed.
A crystalline growth spread from the blade and covered the ground around the desolation. The tree regained its vigor, and a cold wind blew across the region. The snow did not return, but the chill emanating from the blade was sufficient in covering the trees with a shining layer of frost. Siegfried instinctively touched the tree he had been examining. The frost was cold, but hard as glass. It did not disappear under his fingertips, nor did it crumble off and shatter at his feet. The fir was preserved under the frost in a state of incorruptible splendor. Siegfried wondered if the tree was just dormant under the layer of frost, and whether it could recover and rejoice in the spring sun once more. As he passed, he assured himself the tree would remain safe under the frost until the curse on the land lifted.
After an hour's march the signs of death and decay became more apparent. Great pines were dead and lay uprooted on the burned forest ground. Nightmare's servants had come this way, he thought. The damage extended as far as he could see. Siegfried continued along the ravaged path for some time, but he did not see signs of another being.
It was not long until Siegfried reached another precipice and beheld the vast dark sky. The Black Forest now was behind him, and a great moonlit plain stretched before him. And beyond his sight, he knew, stood the dark walls of Ostrheinsburg Castle, a shadow even the moon could not pierce.
He remembered standing here once before, in what felt like a different age of the world. He had been the curse he now had to fight. Except the same evil that claimed him, was now fed by memories of mortal agony, delusion and insanity that took place on this now cursed land. Its former might had been restored, stronger than it ever had been since its birth.
He drew Soulcalibur. Its core shone with a cold blue light. His friends' grief-stricken faces flashed again in his mind. The words from his dream echoed in his mind, telling them to leave, that he was to be alone if he did not want to inflict his death on others.
The sword in his hand was all that remained in his life. He could not allow memories of warmth drive the chill from his heart.
A feeble sun rose as he began to cross the plain. The barren ground had been trampled, as if an army had passed by. The air was also heavy with the smell of blood. Berserkers had been cut down and left on the field; their rusted blades lay beside their corpses while carrion birds circled overhead. Siegfried covered his face from the stench as he stepped over the bodies.
He had not gone far when he heard a dart strike his shoulder and bounce off his armor. He drew Soulcalibur and hewed the berserker that crept behind him. The one that had fired the dart leapt over its fallen comrade and brandished a long knife. Siegfried thrust Soulcalibur forward and impaled the demon, before slamming the blade down on another that came from the left. He was about to sheathe Soulcalibur when another demon that hid amongst the dead, stood up with a rusted axe and seized his cloak. Siegfried turned around.
An arrow flew through the air and pierced the demon below the shoulder. It fell with a shriek, but Siegfried merely kicked the corpse off him and went on his way. He had not gone far when he heard hooves behind him. Siegfried paid no attention and continued walking.
"Halt." A woman's sharp voice commanded.
He stopped, and turned around to see a spear pointed at his neck.
A/N
In Soulcalibur 3, the location of the Lost Cathedral is never revealed. I hinted it at the Alps, due south of Germany. I used some geography from the Black Forest too.
As for the two characters introduced in this chapter, only Saria is canon. The only Saria I heard of was a green-haired Kokiri girl. I have made Burke the unnamed man from the Schwarzwind that speaks to Siegfried at the end of his Soulcalibur ending. He is actually not named there, so I have named him.
You might have noticed I used some parts from the SCIV's intro here. As for how canon the story is to SCIV, I'm not going to give details on that ^_^ But rest assured, the ending's been outlined already (since I first thought up of this fic!). Since we're all (inevitably) drawing from the same body of work, there's going to be some similarities between endings and interpretations. I have decided for the moment to spell Soulcalibur as one word. I might change my mind later. The only reason is because the game suddenly started spelling it like that. Very confusing __
Stay tuned. In the next chapter there will be *gasp* dialogue…!
Also, if there's anything I missed or something that bothers you (grammar or detail-wise), leave a message.
-Frinky
*Activates cloaking device*
