Chapter One:
He was grasping her throat roughly with his hand, and told her the first step to eternal life was that you have to die. He ran his thumb over her jugular vein, quietly murmuring, "Honestly. You won't die, Arista."
His eyes, insane with power and rage, were inches away from hers, and for some odd reason she kept catching herself absorbed into their gaze, and every time she did she instantly pulled away, glancing down at the panicked streets far, far below her.
His eyes were black, the deathly black of death—the kind of death in blizzards where you'd find birds frozen to death, not even getting the chance to fly off their perches. Meanwhile, the lonely bag of Magnus, that tattered old sack, laid there at his feet, lumpy and worn.
They were on top of the building, his arm gripping hers, the sound of glass shattering left and right. They were on the tallest building in the world. Of course, the rest of the world was probably gone by now. Everything was burning down.
Everything…was dying.
One hundred and ninety-five stories up, she looked over the edge of the roof at the streets below, crazily jammed with people, animals, monsters, everyone and everything, engulfed in chaotic panic. Thick black smoke thundered down the crammed streets, casting the city in a sooty, choking haze. The sky was filled with fire, starkly illuminating the ruined city, meteors licking down, erupting into flames that dance upon the hot wind.
It was all his fault.
The window right below them blew apart into tiny shards. More and more windows explode, and the blackened skeletal remains of a three-eyed demon emerged, clattering and groaning. Waving its morning star, it broke its way out. It looked down at the street and leapt down, disappearing into the panicked crowd below. Somewhere in the one hundred and ninety-five stories below their feet, the demons were running wild, destroying every scrap of life and history. At first, they were only little animals that would charge in a mad frenzy into a city, but now that was over. That time was merely child's play, for now the Soul-Scrapers had arrived.
And it was all his fault.
His fault.
The clock was ticking. Seven minutes until devastation. Another window blew up, and glass fell out, sparkling and spinning, and then a large Ceberus-like demon, in the late stages of decay, swelled out from the jagged hole, the walls snapping and tearing as they snagged upon its three heads. Its eyes were empty black holes; its black fur reduced to mere ribbons. The cursed beast gave a low croon as it tumbled wildly into the raw red sky, bare ribcage gleaming in the bloody light as it plunged down below. The castle they were standing on wasn't going to be there for long.
Six minutes.
Directly above them, amid the howling fires, crowds of humans and invading demons, she saw a spinning vortex in the sky, a whirling vortex of heat pressing down on them, engulfing the entire sky. The air all around them was shimmering and distorted with furnace heat. The vortex was a gaping maw of fire ready to swallow them all. She could almost see some kind of face in it...
Five minutes. Arista was at the edge of the roof, his fingers tightening around her throat and she was wondering how painful the end of the world was about to be. They were watching as Diadem— the last refuge of mankind— burned to the ground. "You won't really die, Arista. Your pneuma leave your soma and your saryx may decay, but if you do as I say, you'll live, as good as new. If you do as I say, YOU WON'T DIE. You hear me? Do you hear me, Arista?" They watched as the Soul-Scrapers spilled out into the crowded streets. The nations of the Skies were giving up a good fight, but even with Alfard on their side, it just wasn't enough. Once upon a time, Alfard reigned supreme as the pinnacle of mankind, but now, they fled, Soul-Scrapers engulfing them as humanity's legacy burned down all around them. History was dying, dying right before their very eyes. Distant explosions echoed as dark, winged shapes flickered across the belly of the clouds. She recognized them… "This is my world now, my fucked-up hell," he said softly, "and the Ancients have given up on the Winged Ones. The Wizards of Old…all safe while they watch you all die. They gave us the Heaven's Sword in return for their safety. The stars have fallen and Heaven's cowering at us. History's being torn up as we know it. We're in Eternity's Prison, all caged up, dead, dead, DEAD! The Soul-Scrapers are destroying Dantanu's children and their world right before your eyes. You've all lost, Arista! Game over! But…you can be salvaged. You can save yourself and your friends! Just give me Dantanu's blood. Give me the Earth Sphere right now, and I'll give you salvation." His voice is a gentle, hoarse whisper.
"I told you…I told you…I told you I have no damn idea what you're talking about!"
Up on top of the castle, as the howling Soul-Scrapers run amok through the streets and broken glass rains down on the crowd and fire funnels up out the skeletons of ruined skyscrapers, she knew—with a deep pain in her heart heart—this madness, this hell, the Soul-Scrapers, the burning sky was all about five Magnus.
Four minutes.
Five shining Magnus.
Three minutes. All of humanity was about to die out. For good. All over five Magnus.
And it was all his fault. The vortex grew into a massive sphere of thunderous raw heat, descending with slow, terrifying majesty. As it drew closer, everything shook and wavered, becoming colorless and semi-transparent….shuddering and warping and breaking up into molten white-hot heat as the roaring inferno gradually engulfed everything in searing white infinity. What was inside of it began growing out of it, letting out a deep bellow as the figure stepped out of the sphere. One minute shuffle
Two minutes.
Light filtered into the room, easily flowing through the white curtains, shadows dancing across the room. The windows were open, and the smell of freshly picked mountain apples wafted through with the wind, along with the chirping of the morning birds. It was a pleasant autumn day, although the current inhabitant in the room didn't seem to notice.
He was lying on one bed in a row of several, collapsed on the bed, blankets pulled around his body. He certainly didn't seem willing to wake up. However, the sunshine seemed bent on making his morning an uncomfortable one.
Bouncing off the wooden walls, it began traveling on the floors, creeping up a two-legged stool, leaning against the bed. It seemed to check over the room, making sure everything was in place. Complicated medical charts hung on the wall, edges fraying and parts unhooked. Piles and piles of books were stacked up, some leaning against walls. A messy desk with papers strewn about stood in the corner, the stool pushed aside. Once everything was surveyed, the light seemed to go back to its duty: disrupting sleep.
It flittered over his eyes, and he stirred ever so slightly, but rolled away in irritation. He had slept like a log, his sleep dreamless. The light was persistent, and kept crawling over the bed, and eventually he gave up with a groan, wrapping a pillow around his head.
He pressed a hand against his head, slightly combing his dark blue hair, his eyes slowly opening. There was an odd niggling sensation in the back of his head, and he shook it off, concentrating, clearing his mind for the day ahead.
He twisted around in the bed, his feet dangling over the edge. He looked around suspiciously, frowning.
"Where am I?" he said with a groan, rubbing his eyes.
"Ah, you're finally awake," a man said, walking through the doorway. "How do you feel?"
He was a tall, broad-browed man, wearing simple white clothes and spectacles. He seemed to be a gentle old man, with few wrinkles and grey hair, with a small gray goatee. He carried a small set of charts in his hand, and seemed to be finishing up scribbling something on them.
"Fine, I guess," he said with a stretch. He looked at his arms, scratches, nicks and bruises all over the unprotected areas. His leather chestplate still seemed in good shape, and his clothes weren't too badly torn. "Where am I, anyway? And who're you?"
"I am Doctor Larikush," the man said, removing his spectacles. "You are in Cebalrai Village. They found you lying unconscious in the forest."
"Oh yeah…" he groaned, cradling his head in his hands. "I remember now! I was attacked by those rock cats! How stupid of me…"
"It's a good thing they were only rock cats," sighed Larikush. "They are only herbivores, after all. If it were the Unuks, you might not have made it," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, thinking of something. "Although…it's awfully strange to hear of them attacking humans. Normally, they'll just ignore them, but lately, for some reason, the animals have become more and more aggressive." With that, he turned his head to Kalas. "I'd advise you to stay away from those woods for a while."
"Fine, fine," he shrugged.
"By the way, what's your name? I don't remember you around these parts…" Larikush said, placing his charts on the broken stool.
"My name's Kalas," he said. "I'm new around here…which is why I got lost, I guess."
Larikush held out his hand. "Welcome to Cebalrai Village, Kalas. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you'd like, although we are only a farming village on the outskirts of Pherkad, so there isn't much here. You might want to be careful, though. You took quite a blow to the head, so I was worried you might have amnesia…but for now, you seem to be fine."
He was prepared to walk away, but then turned around. "By the way…I wrapped up your winglet over there, on the windowsill," he said, glancing at the former carpet that was now wrapped around the winglet. "Quite an unusual design for a winglet, I must say...not like the Alfard Empire's at all."
"Oh, that…my grandfather, Georg made it," Kalas said, still seated on the bed. "It was custom-built, too. He was…an excellent engineer, to say the least."
"His name was Georg, huh?" Larikush asked thoughtfully. "How is he doing?"
"He died, two years ago," Kalas murmured, obviously uncomfortable.
"Oh, I'm…sorry to hear about that," he said, frowning.
"It's all right. Thanks for the help, doc," Kalas said, getting up.
"I'm not the one you should be thanking," Larikush smiled. "Meemai was the one who found you lying in the woods."
"Hm…Meemai, is it? I'll go thank them. Thanks again, doc."
"I'll see you around," Larikush said, walking to his desk.
Kalas walked over to the windowsill, and peered out. Multiple colors of autumn leaves decorated the trees, brightening the area with red, orange and dark yellow leaves. He picked up his winglet, removing it from its package.
He ran his finger over the silver edges of it, making sure it wasn't badly damaged. He wasn't very good at repairing it, and to his relief, it didn't need any. He pulled out the leather strap from it, and wove his arm through it. As soon as the winglet got on his shoulder, several ends stabbed into his shoulder, securing it in place. Wincing, Kalas flexed it, before tightening the strap over his chest.
"Well, I guess that's that," Kalas said, folding his wing back. He tucked the cape into his chestplate, and turned back. "I'd better get going. Thanks for the cape."
Larikush glanced at Kalas's outfit. "Excuse me, Kalas, but that's not a—"
He was suddenly interrupted when Kalas tripped over the stool by his bed, papers flying everywhere, some sliding out the doorway.
"Sorry about that!" Kalas said sheepishly, heading outside.
Larikush sighed and went to pick up the papers. "Strange," he muttered to himself. "I never thought of it as a cape…
Kalas stepped outside, accidentally scaring a few birds out of a tree by the house. Fantail ducks gathered around his feet, quacking away, looking up at him and pecking at his feet until a girl herded them away. Pows chewed grass and cud from behind fences, some being milked, and Prancers strutted around the fields. It was a nice, peaceful day.
Except…
'Rock cats, Kalas? Of all things, you got beaten up by a bunch of rock cats?'
Kalas groaned, lowering his head. 'Not you again…'
'You got beaten up by grass-eating cats? What could you possibly do to intimidate rock cats? That's just sad.'
'Just be quiet, Aris—'
'You had your time to talk to some boring old doctor, I have time to talk too! Like I was saying, rock cats, Kalas? Rock cats? I now officially dub you the Rock Cat Loser.'
Arista. Unfortunately, she was his guardian spirit.
If all guardian spirits were like her, he felt sorry for anyone who had a guardian spirit. He didn't see all the fuss about arguing mentally day and night, getting taunted, mentally poked, thrashed in combat and all around abused by someone he couldn't even see.
Although she did probably have her good points…
Nah.
"Hey!"
His thoughts were interrupted by a boy's voice calling out to him, just around the corner.
"You're the one Meemai saved, right?" a young kid asked, dressed in the play clothes a lot of the boys in Cebalrai seemed to wear, with scuffs and cuts on his elbows and knees. "Glad to see you're up and walking around!"
'Yes, this loser is the one that Meemai had to shamefully rescue from a bunch of grass-eating cats, unfortunately. Where is Meemai, anyway?'
"Yeah, it's good to be up again," Kalas said. "Where's Meemai?"
"Right here," the boy said, a small green and blue scaled creature bounced up, waving its fins, squeaking at Kalas.
"Wow! Is this him…uh, her…it?...Meemai?" Kalas said, startled. He was expecting some warrior, or mercenary, or something besides a small, bouncing greythorne, of all things.
'Oh…my…god. Kalas, it's a fish! Kill it!'
'Why would I kill the one that saved my life?'
'Just kill it Kalas! Make it go away, and don't let it touch me!'
'Arista, you can't be touched!'
'Well, you can! That's essentially touching me! Kill it!'
Kalas rolled his eyes, and knelt down by Meemai, looking over it curiously. "Hard to believe you saved my life…thanks."
"He's way smarter than all those drunks that you see around at night," the boy said, Meemai jumping back to him. "And he's really cool, too."
Meemai suddenly shrank down to palm-size, and jumped onto the boy's shoulder, squeaking happily. "Oh yeah," he added. "The mayor wanted to see you or something."
Kalas groaned and walked to what seemed to be the mayor's house.
Stepping inside, the mayor sat at the head of a small table, drinking something. The heat of the fire in the fireplace filled the room, and lit up the mayor's face as he looked up at Kalas.
"Ah, you've arrived," the mayor smiled. "Good, good. Sit down. How are you feeling?"
Kalas did so, leaning back in the chair. "A lot better, thanks."
"You're welcome to stay in this village for as long as you'd like," the mayor said behind a bushy grey moustache that moved up and down as he talked. "However, I'd advise you to not go near those woods again. There are meddlers from Alfard in those woods…setting out Sabre Dragons in the woods. Even the animals are acting peculiar! Not only that, an ancient beast lies in that forest, and should not be awakened! Do you hear me, young man? Don't go near that forest if you value your life, and the sake of this village!"
Kalas stared at him, an eyebrow raised. It wasn't like he was going to destroy the village on purpose or anything…
"Yes, sir," Kalas shrugged.
"Good. Enjoy your time here. Hopefully your wounds taught you a lesson…"
Kalas walked out. 'Weird.'
'You said it. Let's set a rock cat on him.'
Kalas smiled to himself, adjusting his winglet.
He passed by a field where a girl seemed to be tending to the pows, if tending meant watching everything else but the pows. She looked up at Kalas, who tucked his winglet back behind his cape. "Hey, mister!" the little girl cried out, running up to the fence. "Is that a winglet on your back?"
"Yeah, why?" Kalas said, glancing beside him.
"Wow!" she said, following him along the fence. "The empire has a lot of winglets, but you don't really see any down in these parts…but it's a little weird looking."
"It's a custom winglet," Kalas explained. "My grandfather made it for me."
"Double-wow!" she exclaimed. She looked over Kalas. "Why do you only have one on?"
"I only need one," Kalas said after a pause, obviously touchy about the subject.
The girl seemed to flinch slightly. "Oh…sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it. They work, and together, they take me wherever I need to go."
"That's nice! And a custom winglet…your grandpa must have been pretty cool!"
"Yeah, you could almost say he was a magician," Kalas grinned. "The way he worked with machines like that…" He paused, thinking for a moment. "But I didn't know they were so rare down here…Doctor Larikush asked me about it, too…"
"Larikush? He's a doctor…I didn't know he liked machines," the girl said, looking behind her. "Ah! I have to go!" Kalas looked back, and saw several of the pows starting to step over the fence. Shaking his head, he walked away randomly, not caring where he was about to end up.
"Yar, 'allo there, brother of another mother!"
Kalas looked up with a jolt of shock, as someone seemed to appear out of nowhere, a person, onto a roof of a house. The being was sitting there, draped in red and blue robes and cloaks, arms crossed and staring at Kalas with a maniac's grin. Oddly, he had a stone embedded in his forehead.
"O frabjous day, calooh and callay, oh my, oh my, oh my! Oh my, my fellow man, is it not a wonderful day to be alive?" he continued, as his perpetually toothy grin seemed to almost split his face in half. "You were the unconscious one, were you not? You are the Kalas, as I presume? Dearie me! Dearie me! Oh my, oh my, oh my! Ah my goodness and calooh and callay! So you were the unconscious one? Alas! Alas! Sorrow and despair! Sorrow and despair!"
Kalas sat in a silent, stupid astonishment, staring at the man. The man suddenly stood up, and spun once, twice, thrice, before amazingly doing a triple backflip off the roof, landing with perfect grace.
"Uh…yeah, I'm Kalas. Why?"
The man grinned, before twirling again. When he stopped, he abruptly punched himself in the back of his head. With a squelching, popping noise, the stone popped out of his forehead and landed in his open palm. He began polishing the stone, delicate pinpricks of light sparkling in places where the sun struck it. Kalas stood there, trying to say something, but found that nothing was coming out.
The man held up the stone to the sun, examining it fussily, poking some edges and polishing at others. When he was convinced it was clean enough, he placed it back into his forehead, twisting it in with squeaks and squeals until it wouldn't turn anymore. Satisfied, he did another twirl.
"Ah, that hit the spot! Yis, yis, yis! Cheshire Chalagrin de Vangarent D'Aguyongyo de Mortificus at your service! For short, Cheshire is the name!"
"Wh-what are you, Cheshire?" Kalas asked, not quite sure what to make of all this.
"Oh my, oh my, oh my! I am an animated doll! Quite a marvel!"
"Erm…okay. What do you want?"
"Ohh, yis, yis! To tell you, I am here to say hello!"
"Okay…why?"
"'Tis the polite practice, calooh and callay! But I am also here for a friend! I wish to ask if you've seen someone familiar to me!"
"All right, all right, who?" Kalas said impatiently.
"A girl! Have you possibly ever even seen one around here?"
"Then I can't help you there. I've seen plenty of girls."
"Oh my, oh my, oh my! Alas! Alas! Sorrow and despair! Despair and disrepair! Unfortunate, yes, no?" Without waiting for an answer, Cheshire leapt away, before suddenly turning back to Kalas. "I'm off to where my little friend is! It'll be a grand adventure, yis, yis! We'll meet again, was unconscious one!"
Kalas shook his head. So much was happening all at once…he needed a rest.
'Weird.'
'Look who's talking.'
'Hey!'
'He was almost as insane as you were, at the very least.'
'Okay, I'll give you insane, but I am definitely not in the slightest weird!'
Kalas groaned aloud, getting strange looks from passerbys. 'Yeah, right.'
'I'm glad to see you admit the truth!'
'You know, someday I'm going to kill you.'
'If you can't beat a Rock Cat, you can't beat a spirit you can't ever see!'
'Will you stop it?'
'For now, I guess.'
Although Arista was indeed annoying, she knew when to shut up. Good.
Kalas groaned, sitting down by the gate of the village, underneath the shade of a tree. Children were still running about, some playing with Meemai, others playing games like Tag.
Let's see…he had been assaulted by monsters, rescued by a greythorne of all things, taken to Larikush, and had met one of the strangest people, possibly in the world. What else would happen?
He looked around the village and was unsurprised that nothing was happening. He wondered if someday, he might just settle down and live in a town like this. Maybe not this exact town, but one where he could disappear and make his life anew.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed two soldiers escorting a girl out of the village. What had caught his eyes were the unusually bright colors they wore, contrasting with the darker tones of Cebalrai.
The two soldiers, one in blue and the other in orange went ahead of the girl, who was dressed in pink. Getting a better look at her, Kalas found her outfit to be awkward in the weather of Cebalrai. She wore a jacket, a sweater, everything you'd see in winter, but not autumn. He was wondering how hot she must have felt in all those clothes when she suddenly broke the silence.
"Are you a traveler, too?"
Kalas looked up at her golden eyes. Blonde hair curved around her neck, a delicate smile on her pale face.
'She looks like one of those girls who would murder you if you insult her outfit.'
Kalas nearly snorted aloud, but quickly caught himself, stammering. "Uh…uh….yeah…Yeah, I guess you could say that."
The girl stared at him curiously. Damn, did he even know her?
The girl seemed to begin to say something, but the soldiers had returned, motioning to her.
"I have to go…" she said. She turned and approached Meemai and the boy Kalas had met before. She patted Meemai's head and ruffled the boy's hair playfully. "Bye Meemai…see you, little guy!"
She quickly ran back to her escorts and trotted off with them, a hand on one of their arms.
"Hey! I have a name, you know!" the boy shouted, peeved. "C-E-D-R! Cedr!"
Knowing the girl was out of earshot, he groaned and turned back to Meemai. "They're crazy, right Meemai? They just want to visit some old ruins in Moonguile Forest…better hope the 'curse' doesn't get to them!" he chuckled. "We better hope they don't get hurt like someone…"
"Yeah, really," Kalas muttered, rolling his eyes.
'The curse of the rock cats! The horror!'
'But cursed ruins? Those people must have come a long way just to see a bunch of rocks…there must be something valuable there! We can run ahead of them, take any valuables, and go. Sound good to you?'
'But Rock Cat Loser! There are deadly rock cats after your blood! Are you sure you can survive?'
'Trust me, I'm not going to get caught off-guard this time. There's nothing to worry about…besides, if there's something good, we get rich in the process. Let's go…'
shuffle
'Not very exciting, eh?'
Kalas was sitting by the river, sharpening his sword. Walking through the forest was a monotonous task, and the monsters weren't so exciting to fight.
There wasn't much light when you were in the forest, so Kalas decided to sit out in the middle of the forest, where the trees became thinner in population.
Were there even ruins in Moonguile Forest? There had better be, Kalas didn't want to go through all this for nothing.
Time to get going…he got up and returned the sword to its Magnus form, and reentered the dark woods.
"Something exciting had better be in these stupid woods…"
Krrrr…RAAAAGH!
"Just my luck…"
Rushing into the forest, he found a large turtle-like creature looming before the pink-dressed girl from the village. It was a Sabre dragon, a creature native to Alfard. It stared down at the girl, clicking its fangs thoughtfully.
'Where are her escorts?' Kalas thought to himself as he looked behind the girl. He grimaced when he saw the two bloody corpses of the knights, smalls holes stabbed through their bodies.
'Does that answer your question?'
Kalas looked up at the scene before him. A girl in danger and a turtle dragon ready to pick her off. Only one thing to do.
Kalas charged.
shuffle
"Leon…" the girl said, pretty shaken up, looking over the bodies. "Gram…"
Kalas was completely ignorant. He merely knelt by the Sabre Dragon corpse, grinning from ear to ear as he carved off its fangs. "They're still in good shape…this'll fetch me a bundle!"
With a grin still on his face, he waltzed over to Gram and Leon's corpses and knelt by them, swiping their decks, looking through them casually.
"H-hey! Wh-what are you doing?" the girl stammered, startled.
"Taking their Magnus," Kalas shrugged. "Oh, this one looks good…"
"Stop it! You're disrespecting the dead!"
"I don't see them complaining. Do you?" Kalas said, looking over their body for any valuables. "Besides, I'm not going to leave them lying around naked."
'That makes for disturbing images, Kalas.'
Kalas looked at the necklace and bracelet in his hands, and tossed them behind his head. "Here, catch."
The girl snagged them out of the air, looking over them. "Gram's pendant…Leon's bracelet…" she whispered. She looked back up at Kalas. "You want me to return them to their families…so they can remember? You know…maybe I was wrong about you…maybe…maybe I—"
"Woah, woah, what're you talking about? You did half of the fighting, so that's your share of the loot."
"W-what? I'm not going to accept stolen goods from my friends!"
"Take it or leave it," Kalas said. "I'm going in deeper."
He prepared to leave, before the girl suddenly interrupted.
"Wait a minute…you're from Mira…aren't you?"
Kalas froze. "Yeah…how'd you know?"
"You have a guardian spirit with you…I felt their presence in battle. Only people from Mira can summon their presence into this world."
'Ooh, yay, I'm getting famous! Tell her about my good side!'
"Yeah, yeah, when you summon a guardian spirit, you supposedly gain knowledge and powers, right? Whoever made that up should get slapped in the face."
'HEY!'
"I always thought it was just a legend…" the girl said thoughtfully.
"I wouldn't blame those who thought I was just insane or something. This spirit's driving me nuts."
'It's because I care about you, buddy old pal,' Arista muttered sarcastically.
"Was that her?" the girl said. "I felt a faint voice in my head…"
"You heard her?"
'Exactly, Kalas! Wooh, I can start a fanclub!'
"So, what's your name?" the girl asked.
'Holden Caufield.'
"Okay, Holden—"
'Hey! I didn't mean it! It's actually Joe—'
"It's Arista, and you will not start a fanclub."
The girl giggled. "I'm glad you came when you did. I'm Xelha, and I'm sorry about that outburst I had earlier…"
"Wait, wait, wait. I wanna clear this up with you—Sabre dragon fangs will fetch me a juicy sum. I'm not going to be prince charming and save you, and I had no intentions of doing so. Now, if you'll excuse me—"
There came a loud rumbling noise from deep within the forest, and Kalas quickly drew his sword, looking around nervously.
"Maybe we should travel together," Xelha suggested.
"Whatever," Kalas said, rolling his eyes. "Fine by me. Let's go."
"Wait…just one thing…" Xelha said, walking back to the soldiers. She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes, whispering to herself.
Cast light upon the darkened Earth
Save those lost in despair
O mighty Ocean…
guide us as we journey though the darkest pit of night
The two bodies suddenly began fading away, their Magnus-essence fading away.
Kalas raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"
"Nothing, nothing," Xelha assured. "We should get going."
shuffle
Once upon a time, this was a holy place where the ancient Pious paid tribute to the Stars. Even after centuries, the Cathedral of Astrum had not fallen from its grace. Languid beams of pale golden sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows in small spears of light and soaked the wood of the pews in light, casting the glorious house of holy prayer in light. The planks of wood set into the floor, even after all these years had not been stained with grime or even had rotted away. They sat in the sunlight like new, with not even a speck of dust on them. Stained glass windows lined the upper arches of the vaulted, once-majestic roof, shimmering slightly in the subtly shifting dance of shadows and light. The beautiful stained-glass windows had miraculously retained their natural beauty despite the ravages of Time's jealous hand.
Within the house of worship, a wolf-like creature was seated upon the altar, overseeing the rows upon rows of pews silently arranged before him. His dark emerald fur shone with an eerie light, his eyes scanning ahead of him coldly, his long ears folded back. Two white, feathery wings sprouted from his back, making him seem bigger than he really was. His paws and two tails were covered in elegant runic markings, his tails thumping impatiently.
The creature softly hissed under his breath as he gazed down the aisle and through the doors of the cathedral, overseeing his silent audience.
Covering every pew, every column, every rafter, every windowpane, even spilling out onto the ground and trees outside were roosting ravens. It was as if this holy house had sprouted black feathers. There was an eerie curiosity in their eyes.
And they were everywhere.
The creature could sense their cold indifference. His murky green eyes cast downwards; and he began to speak. His voice was sonorous and rich, elegant yet menacing, like blood and honey.
"Dantanu has accersitus totus suus liberi praeeo. Permissum nos audio puteus."
The restless shifting of the birds stopped. All eyes were upon him.
"Vos have pervasor Dantanu's domus per vestri presentia. Sin est coming , quod is must operor suus officium ut somes suscipio ut orior oriri ortus in acies."
The whole world seemed to go still, to listen.
"Licentia is sanctus humus. Nunc."
The creature stopped and gazed about impatiently.
"NUNC!"
A chill wind began to blow—only it was no wind; it was the ruffling of millions of feathers.
The rustle of the ravens rose to a roar.
The skies were black with whirling, screeching, cawing ravens. The Cathedral still echoed with the thunder of their wingbeats.
shuffle
"Is this it?" Kalas asked, looking down at the lake before them.
"Yes…this should be the Moonguile ruins…" Xelha said, approaching it.
Kalas looked around. "I don't see anything valuable around here. Where's the goods?"
"Is money all that matters to you?"
"Maybe. So?"
Xelha sighed. "Nothing, nothing…"
Kalas had to admit it was a nice place. A small spring quietly trickling, surrounded by not too many trees…it was the kind of place you'd like to just sit there and not be bothered by anyone. You could just sit around and think to yourself. However, it was definitely not worth going through a forest and getting attacked by dragons.
"This should be it," Xelha said, standing before a small pillar.
"That's it?" Kalas snorted.
A light began shining from a necklace Xelha wore, blinding Kalas briefly. Xelha seemed to be perplexed for a moment, but the light suddenly ceased and the skies began to darken.
There was a faint, twisting shadow in the depths of the lake, and with a roar of water, the lake water began gushing out as the beast rose.
'It's a seahorse!'
It was anything but. A large sea serpent rose, looking rather moodily at the two before him. Large whiskers rattled impatiently as it glared at its surroundings.
"So, you've come at last, woe-laden child…" he boomed. "Have you arrived for Malpercio's gift? Then prepare yourself!"
'We didn't even say anything yet!'
It lunged at Kalas, who barely had time to dodge. He closed his eyes, drawing out his Wings of Heart. A grey falcon wing stretched out, as did his mechanical winglet, and he pulled out his sword and knife, ready to challenge the beast to a duel. "Come on!" he shouted up.
The serpent quickly came down at Kalas again, and he quickly blocked with his sword. It crumbled after the hit, yet another sword appeared in his hand.
"Fire burst!" Xelha yelled, before a flare of fire struck the serpent in the head, distracting it from its attack on Kalas. Kalas took advantage and swung his sword at the monster, cutting into its side. Xelha continued her barrage.
The monster leaned back, growling slightly before sinking into the water.
"Hah! Was that all? Loser! That was way too—"
"Kalas! Look out!" Xelha shouted, but her warning was a tad bit too late.
The serpent leapt into the air and slammed itself on Kalas in a massive bodyslam, slithering back slowly into the water. Kalas was lying there, flat on his face.
"I think my nose is broken…"
'HAHAHA! Kalas, you can get beaten up by rock cats, dragged around by a girl, but you can get body-slammed by a SNAKE of all things? You aren't a Rock Cat Loser! You're a Rock-Cat-Snake-Body-Slammed loser! You got owned by a SNAKE!'
The rest was distorted by Arista's laughter.
shuffle
"Well, that was exciting," Kalas groaned, resting his head in his palm.
He leaned on his sword, looking at the writhing, dying beast. Xelha was slightly shaken up, as she barely had time to dodge another massive snake-body-slam. She was exhausted, and called back in her shell-like wings of heart. She had done most of the work, no thanks to Kalas.
The water slowly dripped back into the small pond, the serpent still stretched out of the mouth of the pond. It swayed slightly, before collapsing onto the damp grass.
"The time has come," it hissed softly, murky eyes fading. "The gate to Ar is finally opening…behold the blessing of…Mal…percio…"
Slowly the body began to fade away, leaving behind a shining Magnus. Kalas stared down at it, curiously.
He wasn't sure if it was his head, but he could have sworn there was a red flicker in his mind…
"Now that that's done with, let's get back to…to…" he began, but stopped as he stared at the white light emitting from the Magnus.
"Kalas?" Xelha asked, but he ignored her. He involuntarily moved his hand to the Magnus, entranced by the blinding light. He picked up the card, staring into it.
There was a screech in his head, blasting his ears. Slowly, his grip tightened, his knuckles growing a pallid white, eyes contorting with pain.
The ground began to shake, like there was an earthquake, birds flying from the trees in panic. Golden flashes of light began shooting out of the spring and into the sky, but Kalas was oblivious to all.
He heard a faint voice, screaming "Kalas! Put it down!" He tried to recognize it, but the card was suddenly stolen from his hands and tossed onto the ground.
Kalas snapped back into reality, shaking his head. "Huh? What happened?"
"I don't know…" Xelha said.
A chilly wind began to pick up all around them, and a dark shadow loomed over them. Kalas looked up at the oddly-shaped shadow, trying to ignore the light of the Magnus.
Suddenly, a squad of soldiers surrounded them, guns loaded and pointed towards them. Kalas put his hand at his sword, but knew he was terribly outnumbered.
Someone had jumped from the shadow above, a man dressed in a black uniform. He wore dark armor all over his body, and wore a white cape. He wore the Imperial Crest on his chest. Cold, calculating dark brown eyes gazed over them.
Kalas looked at him, jaw dropped. "You!" he shouted.
The man spoke as if he hadn't heard Kalas. His voice was deep and booming, as he said "Girl, you will return what you have stolen." He grabbed Xelha's arms, dragging her struggling body away from Kalas.
"Let me go!" Xelha cried, trying to fight her way out of the man's grip.
"Get away from her—" Kalas began, waving his sword at the man, but one soldier quickly reacted and struck him in the head with the butt of his gun. Kalas dropped his sword with a cry of pain, and collapsed in a limp pile.
"Kalas!" Xelha cried, momentarily stopping her struggles.
The soldier stood over him. "Can't we just kill 'im now and get it over with?"
The man rolled his eyes, released Xelha and quickly backhanded the soldier's face face. "Silence, you dolt. If we kill him you'll be wanted for murder. We have to pull off this mission quickly and quietly, and things like murder will slow it down, and I won't have progress stopped for such a foolish reason. We weren't told to assassinate children, we came here for a far different purpose."
The soldier shrugged, retreating back. "Fine then. Lead the way."
The leader moved his head towards another soldier. "You, collect the Magnus," he said simply. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his men roughly pushing the girl towards him. It was an understatement to say she was putting up a fight.
"Get off of me!" she screamed. The soldier had her arms behind her back and was pushing her slowly forward, but she dug her heels into the ground, kick the soldier, kick the air, anything to momentarily distract him and stop his progress.
She looked at the leader, and screamed to him. "You're not going to get away with this! You'll—"
The leader interrupted her with a slap to the side of her face. She stared at him in a long, hard silence for a moment, then continued on her rant.
"Throw her into the smallest cell we've got," he said with a smirk.
Meanwhile, Arista was pleasantly gabbing away to an unconscious Kalas.
'Kalas, does it hurt to get hit in the back of the head with a gun? It sure looks like it, since you're on the ground and all. Kalas? Yoo-hoo, Kalas! Kalas? KA-LAS! Ka-laaassss…"
shuffle
The creature had risen from the altar and was slowly descending down the steps, walking through the multiple colors of the filtered sunlight.
"Qua est ut puella ut vos postulo suus?"
He had just begun to step towards the first row of pews when the massive double doors of the cathedral exploded inwards.
A raging, whirling tornado of fire surged through, howling insanely as it expanded to fill the massive interior of the cathedral. The force of the explosion violently lifted the pews from the floor and flung them aside, up against the walls, the windows and walls rumbling violently.
The creature stood, watching this amazing, frightening sight with a calm expression, thoroughly unimpressed.
A blurred, indistinct shape materialized in the center of the whirling vortex of fire, eyes blazing white-hot with fury. The elegant figure took a step forward, heat rolling out from it in cloying waves. The temperature skyrocketed to unendurable levels. Ash and dust spun lazily in the air and slowly settled.
The heat suddenly vanished, revealing a small phoenix perched on one of the pews.
"Quis iens in?" the phoenix asked, cocking her head to one side.
"I could be asking the same," the creature placidly answered in perfectly pronounced, flawless English.
The phoenix fluttered down to the ground, shaking her head. "This is just…insane!"
"Agreed," the creature murmured gently, "but this is no longer in our hands. I am simply a messenger of Dantanu, nothing more. Destiny has been set in motion. Look at the roof."
The two gazed up at the roof. It was an empty black space, only a few flickering lights.
"The star map…shattered?" the phoenix whispered.
"Yes. Our own Father's blood…the stars. Yes, the white-winged darkness is coming. Humans were not meant to surpass the limits of their evolution. They've fought with and against each other…all over five end Magnus. They are not meant to have the privilege of beings gods…we have to hurry…"
He began strutting over to the doors, before suddenly turning around. "And I would recommend that before you head back out, tone down your magic a bit."
She quietly mimicked him, rolling her eyes. She leapt off the pew, and in a flash of fire, she had become a human.
"I don't understand why you enjoy being a human so much," he muttered, shaking his head.
She brushed back her dark red hair, ruffling his head. "I don't get why you like Latin so much. Now leave me alone."
"If you don't…" he began, but then he noticed she had disappeared into the sunlight. He groaned to himself, walking outside. He peered into the sky, ravens still flying out of sight.
Time was running out.
shuffle
It was waiting in the Darkness.
It existed as it had always done, entombed within its dream. It wasn't alive as the term is defined; it did not breathe, it certainly could not move and definitely could not reproduce itself.
How long it had remained in its current state? It couldn't tell, time had no meaning in this dimension, it was just sitting there, chained up, and all it had were memories that flickered, over and over again. It saw vague, blurry faces within these bubbles of thoughts but mostly recalled…sensations.
Elation. Suffering. Pain, always the pain. Awakening. Chaos. Then of course, the fracturing, the strange sense of being many things at once but none of them at the same time.
It had been a god of destruction, a cold, logical mind, a lover, a thinker, a murderer, a wanderer, but which one was it truly? It had forgotten its true identity over the aeon of agelessness, the steady drift of dispassionate time uncaring, just being chained in the darkness. The overriding thought and pattern that had governed this being's limited actions had been a need to escape this tomb, recapture its lost glory. It had waited patiently for the opportunity to arise, it had waited long, too long. And its time was coming.
It had never had much need of his only ability in this world, the power to detect the minds of others. Nothing would venture down to its resting place. But…something had.
This mind that had entered had been unknowingly seeded with a desire that would become irresistible. Rather than indifference now, it had begun to feel anticipation. Though the time scale was as yet undetermined, the being was certain of eventual escape; it felt no pressure and could afford to wait a little longer for release. Everything was eventual and freedom was forthcoming. All it had to do now was wait.
A/N: The end of chapter 1. XD
1.) I know I did a mega-huge cop-out of both of the fights. So sue me.
2.) This came mega-late due to a huge power-surge that fried my computer's memory and deleted all my saved files.
So, I had to start over, and I copped out of the fights because I had spent too much time on them and I didn't even remember what happened in them. All I remember was a serpent body-slam, and the end. Sue me again. Hopefully the rest of the chapter made it up to you.
Much of this was going to be what Distorted Wings was going to be, since it got deep-fried, so you'll be seeing a ton of creative liberties on this fic. Hell, some of it could just be considered AU.
The reason why I used shuffle to switch between sections...I dunno. Nothing else would work, and shuffle could refer to Magnus being shuffled. So there.
So anyway…commence the chapter-end dance!
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