ACT I : SPEAK OF THE DEVIL
It was midday; the sun was high, and still a bone-freezing sort of cold hung in the air, stinging the lungs of the soldiers as they marched on forward to face the threats ahead.
Ismaire Uemytlach watched them move with a frown, hidden by the mask of her trademark muffler. One year ago, she'd fought the same beasts this army was defending against, and their unexpected reappearance had her concerned. With a frustrated sigh, she rubbed a gloved palm against her forehead and slowly started to move forward.
"You'll regret showing your ugly mugs in this world again, you sorry sons of bitches..."
Rekindling her old habits of travel and paid mercenary work had succeeded in making her feel marginally better until about a month ago, when these things had decided to stage a return. The last time she'd fought against them, she'd still been fighting alongside her best friend, but now...
She was wallowing again. And she hated doing that. There was nothing, not anything she could have done. It had been Megumi's own conscious choice to go off and die, broken to peices by grief and a thorough unwillingness to go on any longer, though Ismaire had made every effort to convince her there was worth left in living. It hadn't accomplished anything. She'd done what she could.
Somehow, it hadn't been enough. And she still blamed herself for that fact.
Still, with a scowl, she clenched her jaw and marched on forward. Nothing decapitating a few of these hideous monsters couldn't solve.
However, on her way down, she was met with Cassius Thaeddus, the man she was currently working for. It had become obvious quite quickly that he'd taken a liking to her; and, though she wouldn't admit it, in the few months she'd been here, she had started to return the sentiment. He was pleasant enough company, and, though this she never would have admitted, relatively handsome, in a blonde and broad-shouldered sort of way.
He gave his usual boyish smile at seeing her, and in return she managed a civil nod.
"You've been different since these monsters showed up. I couldn't help but notice." He had long since done away with frivolous greetings, as Ismaire had found she preferred.
"Your entire kingdom has been different, understandably so, as we are fighting monsters that look as if they've come straight from hell," she replied, with a bit of an edge of annoyance in her voice.
"Well, not in the same way. Everyone else has been frightened of these things. You... haven't."
"Fear's not a luxury you can afford in battle. I, unlike the rest of your soldiers, realize that."
Cassius frowned slightly. "It's as if you've seen these monsters before."
Ismaire glanced at him. In truth, she had. And the reminders they had brought along with them as they stormed onto the ice-covered battlefields of the kingdom of Terreglace were what had put her in the "different" state Cassius was referring to.
But she would not open that part of her heart to him yet.
"As previously stated, I don't see the point in being afraid of them," she finally answered, expertly deflecting his earlier question. "Now, that said, I really should get back to killing them, which is the job you're paying me for."
Clearly dissatisfied with how his inquiry had been answered but aware he would receive nothing better, Cassius nodded and slowly started off in the other direction as Ismaire continued to trudge down the hill.
She determinedly returned to her decision to take out her overall feelings of discontentment on the opposing beasts.
There was a gathering ahead, though. The soldiers had broken their ranks, moved to get a closer look at something half hidden in a crevasse of the towering glacier. She craned her neck. What were they looking at?
A split second, and she got a glimpse before someone else moved to block her view. She blinked. The cold was getting to her. She was seeing things.
Decidedly, she turned and walked forward again, though she couldn't get it out of her head. No, she had to be seeing things. There could be no such irony, that was too cruel, there was no possible way anything so horribly, punishingly ironic could be possible...
It was another monster.
It was a doppelganger.
And if that was true, why had there been recognition there?
It was as if she couldn't control when she walked by, raised her head, turned, stopped dead in her tracks -
No, such cruelty was possible from the universe.
Though little was the same, the creature standing there in her line of sight was, without a doubt, Nightmare, who was most assuredly supposed to be dead and gone.
It was obvious that someone had attempted to make him look presentable, but by his still disheveled appearance, it was clear their efforts had been met with a fair amount of resistance. His bloodred hair had always been jaggedly cut and badly unkempt, but now it almost looked as though he'd gone out of his way to put it into such disarray. Even beneath the heavy rune-patterned coat he'd been dressed in, it was noticeable that he had thinned out - he must have been only skin and bones by now. One firelight orange eye remained. The other was now an iris of piercing white-blue surrounded by black where it should have been white, and both held a disturbingly feral quality that had never been there before.
No. This is beyond any horrible jest any higher being could possibly muster.
Why was he here? Why had he somehow managed to come back, after he'd died and left Megumi with nothing to live for and no life to live?
He'd turned to look at Ismaire by this point, staring as though he couldn't place where he'd seen her before, and when he'd figured it out, further contempt joined the animalistic fury in his eyes.
"You... I remember you..." His voice came weakened, as though he'd gone too long without using it.
Ismaire glared. "Yes, hello, Nightmare." She'd taken to calling him "Clunky" before, but she was in no mood for that now.
"Hmph... Wasn't looking for you, but... Not surprising you're here." He stood and looked around. The surrounding soldiers, convinced he wasn't a threat, had moved on. "You might be able to help me find what I am looking for, though."
Damn it. "She's not here, Nightmare."
"I figured that out already," he snapped, a deadly gleam in his eyes.
"Well, I don't know where she is." Not the truth, but not necessarily a lie.
When he stepped out of the shadow cast by the glacier, and she noticed something else - wings. Bony and mangled, leathery, with veins of blue running through them. They were torn and scarred, as if something had tried to rip them off. Somehow she had a feeling that something was Nightmare himself.
"Well, I can find her on my own, then."
You stupid fuck, she's gone. "I don't think you will."
"Your opinion fails to matter to me, just like it always has." He started climbing up the rough side of the ice.
Ismaire didn't say anything as he hopped up and over the top of the ledge and was gone. She hadn't had the heart to tell him the truth.
And she hadn't had the heart to kill him and spare him the truth, either.
