2: CALL ME BLACK MONSTER
I stood before a fallen Wingly Fortress. Here, and there the gleaming enchanted crystal was added onto and built up with human plaster and stone. This gorgeous fortress, due to the magical properties of Wingly crystal, had once floated high above the ground. It reminded me, of course, of battle. We had fired at their precious Fortress from our battery in Vellweb. Vellweb was where we lived freed from the Winglies' captivity under our proclaimed human leader Emperor Diaz.
We fought well, driven just as much by our hatred of the Winglies as by Diaz's benevolent leadership. We kept on until the 'glorious' Wingly structure fell. It was one of the many battles we won. Their fortress did not fall quietly. It fell taking many Winglies with it in its screaming flames, while others tried to escape on their wings in a panic. Bits of shattered crystal glimmered in the sky. And, the huge Fortress seemed to cry out before it struck the ground.
Now, those same crystals rose up out of the stone paved ground. Their shine seemed less brilliant. It was now known as the Crystal Palace in Deningrad. It was where the Sacred Sisters of Mille Seseau lived. It was also a great tourist attraction.
"Miss, are you here for the tour? Our hours are from - "
"No thank you." I said to a young woman in a pristine white dress and fur hood. She was flanked by two guards who eyed me carefully. I stalked away, waking myself from my reverie. The wary look on the woman's face and the worried faces of the guards stayed, like an image, printed in my mind.
I must have become colder over the years. When people looked into my face, I could see the unease setting in. I tried convincing myself it was just the clothing. For example, one of my leggings rose higher on one leg than on the other. I had always dressed in this way to give my legs the illusion of being the same length. I wasn't really sure if it was this or my casual walk that hid my deformity. I only still limped a bit in battle when caught off guard or countering an attack. Or maybe it was my dark armor that put people off. But, there were those few people who lived off the wild. Such as beast hunters and the like, they wore armor. It was probably just me, after all, that scared people.
It didn't matter. What did I really care what people thought of me? I was only here to carry out my duty. Travelling to Mille Seseau had proven more difficult than I'd expected. It was so close to my memories. While travelling through the barren snowfields of Gloriano, west of Mille Seseau, I'd thought of my memories there. In Vellweb where we had built the seven towers. A refuge for the other dragoons and me. Shirley, Damia, Kanzas, Belzac, Syuveil, and of course Zieg. And, then there was the city of Magrad where Emperor Diaz had first sent us off along with our rallied allies. The city where Zieg proposed to me.
The wedding that was held off until after the war. We held onto it like a promise. I thought it would make us stronger in battle. Keep us alive until the end. That was the power of my love. But, how young and foolish, I could see now, that I had been. To think we could make it unscathed.
Back in the beginning of my journey against Soa's will I brooded over my losses. The pain I remember as my grip slipped from Zieg's hard, cold fingers - turned to stone. It was a raw pain every time I remembered it. But, now nothing but an echo. Time had desensitized the hurt of my memories. I usually didn't go back to these thoughts, but as I said, it was a hard trip.
I pushed it all away now, and cleared my head. Finally, I was in Mille Seseau. Funny, the names of these countries. Funnier, the languages. The fancy sounding words of Meelsezo stumbled clumsily out of my mouth as I traversed Deningrad. It was harder to master than, say, Tiberoan - which reminded me a bit of the language of my hometown. But not as bad, as learning the three different languages spoken on Serdian land.
I stopped in at the Church. I gazed at the old paintings.
"Would you like to learn about the Divine Tree young woman?" asked an elderly Priest dressed in grand robes. He looked almost a hundred. A lot more than a thousand centuries younger than me. I didn't need to hear the story. Of course, he was obliged to tell a foreigner. This legend was sacred here in a holy city. In other countries they may have never heard it before. The Priest and I, we still believed in those tales here in a world of "modern" people. How could they believe in all these other beings? Dragons and Gigantos, those things couldn't exist. And, there were none around if they ever had.
"You look lost in thought beyond your years." the Priest chuckled.
"I'd like to hear the tale." came my reply in stiff Meelsezo. My words didn't quite flow like the Priest's. Although he must know this was not my native tongue, I also knew he wouldn't be able to detect the ancient dialects in my voice. He was unaware of my origin. It didn't seem to cross his mind and he immediately started in.
"Soa, the great creator planted the Divine Tree. It bore 108 fruit that landed on the barren Earth, covering it in life. Each brought forth a new species as they ripened and fell. We, humans, are the 106th fruit. Before us came many, many others. Including other intelligent species: the Gigantos, Minitos, and Dragons. And, of course, after us came the Winglies." the Priest said with grandiose hand gestures.
"The Winglies were the most intelligent, and advanced - to even have magic! However they abused this power. They were led by a terrible dictator. Melbu Frahma. He believed none were equal to the powerful, and intelligent Winglies. All other species were forced to be their slaves. They even locked away the great and majestic Dragons using cursed chains." the Priest explained obviously lost on a tangent.
"But, humans fought back! They freed the Dragons and used their spirits to become Dragoons. This way, they were powerful enough to defeat the Winglies. Oh, but I have digressed haven't I?" he let out a hearty laugh and said "My apologies, it comes with old age I'm afraid. So, then back to the Divine Tree. It is amazing isn't it? What if all those mysterious creatures we speak of are not truly extinct after all? I wonder...how it might be to meet one." the Priest was smiling, his gaze seemed to travel into the mural on the wall.
"Thrilling. I suppose." I said, mostly to humor him. Even I knew how impossible that was in this age. The only remaining were the Winglies who had followed Charle, and dissented against her brother. They now lived in Ulara. And, Ulara was plenty safe beyond the treacherous and endless deserts of the Death Frontier. No human could survive out there for long, it wasn't even included on maps any longer. Besides that only I could see Ulara. The magic of my choker was able to break through the illusion that hid it from human eyes.
All the things of my time had been wiped out. All except the Virage Embryo, I thought bitterly. The reason for my cursed eternity on Earth. Its soul reborn every 108 years, possessing a child in order to realize the destruction of the World. The 108th fruit that had almost fallen from our blessed Tree. Ironic.
"Have you come to Deningrad to celebrate the birth of our beautiful Princess Louvia?" the Priest asked.
"Oh...yes..." I replied looking away. He directed a brilliant smile at me.
Walking around Deningrad with a few drinks in me to keep me warm I looked up at the Crystal Palace's spires rising above the rest of the buildings. I saw a floating fortress in its place for a moment. I blinked, and then almost tripped in the street. A hand caught my arm. I spun into the arms of a young man with golden hair and eyes.
"Z-Zieg?" I gasped. He laughed putting an arm around me.
"No, sorry wrong guy. Name's Flint. But, how about you beautiful?"
I stepped away and slapped his arm back. No, this man didn't resemble Zieg at all, what was I thinking? There was rage in my eyes - at my own stupidity. I saw fear flick across the man's face.
"Hey, I-I was only trying to help." He raised both hands stepping back. After giving him a glare I turned briskly and kept walking. I heard the man make a noise like a low whimper before hurried footsteps carried him away in the opposite direction.
I followed the sound of cheering and laughter into another bar. Again, not many women of my projected age here. Still, I took a seat towards the back.
"To our newborn Princess"
"Yeah to Louvia!"
A toast took place. She was born this very morning. Was it under a red moon? After a few more drinks alone, and too many strange stares, I stepped outside...carefully. It was my stupid bad leg I had to watch, shorter than the other. But, if I could fight with it in the Dragon Campaign I'd be okay now. Even if I was maybe just a little drunk.
The sky was dark. The same moon had sat up there all day, but the dark night made its bloody hue bright. A crimson red Moon That Never Sets. Back in the reign of the Winglies , they had to stop the Virage Embryo's birth. So, they separated its soul from its flesh before the 108th fruit fell. Virages had once been manipulated as weapons by the Winglies in war. But, this 'god of destruction' would be powerful enough to end the entire World. Obviously, Melbu Frahma could not have anything be more powerful than himself. He helped Charle to do this, but for his own reasons. He kept the soul trapped in the Crystal Sphere, and was able to draw power from it. And she created the five Signet Spheres to keep the thing's body floating high up in the sky above us. Like another moon.
During the Dragon Campaign Zieg destroyed the Crystal Sphere, taking away Melbu's source of power right before their final fight. He had unknowingly released the god's soul onto the world. And, the once harmless moon glowed red every time the Virage Embryo was ready to try making its journey once again. So, now every 108 years came Soa's blessing to us. A receptacle for the Virage Embryo's tireless soul, wishing to become one with its body and purge the world.
But, of course, there I was to stop that from happening. I had asked the Priest earlier if the lovely Princess had been born here in Deningrad. Unfortunately not, he had said, in the gorgeous holy capital.
"Her mother went into labor in the quaint town of Neet, not too far past the forest." he had disclosed. I'd looked into his eyes.
Was the moon red?
I almost wanted to push the words into his head. He was a true believer, he would know what that would mean. Or think it a strange coincidence. Some no longer told the legend of Soa's blessing: the Moon Child. Only of the Black Monster. Abhorring peace, and so killing the child to prevent the blessing, and bringing chaos in its path. That, being me. I was the Black Monster that brought death in place of a blessing every 108 years.
I had then returned my eyes to the mural of the Divine Tree on the wall. I suppose I was grateful that the art didn't have to burn. Although the paint was fading and cracked in places, worn so much so that some parts couldn't be made out. It was something as old as me - this old land, ruled by Winglies once floating above us, turned human city.
But, Neet. Neet had to be destroyed. Scoured. All who laid eyes on that child were destined to fall thrall to her. Become her servants, and help the Virage Embryo reach its body as best as they could.
"Watch the moon tonight." I whispered cryptically before leaving the Church.
So, there I stood later that night. Outside of a noisy bar looking up at the moon. Gazing at its disgusting red countenance.
"You and I have something in common..." I said aloud in an ancient dialect. Any listeners would think me a crazy drunk speaking in tongues. Who was I talking to? The Virage Embryo I suppose...
"We're both wanderers. Cursed to wander this Earth until the end..."
That's what I fought for. The end. Would it be Soa's end - the purging. Or, would I really live forever killing.
"Until the end ... the two of us...we'll be the oldest souls on this wretched land..."
It began to snow lightly. A cold wind blew through my waist length jet-black hair. Scattering it with cold, wet white drops. Walking through Deningrad sobered me up, and then - with no hesitation - I was onto Neet.