Chapter 2: Meus frater est meus hostilis.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur or it's characters. Achilleus, however, is mine, unless Namco decides to be total dicks and take him.
Note: List of translations to be included in the next chapter.
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Achilleus could only stare, dumbfounded, by his opponent's proclamation. He suspected that this was a ruse, a distraction to open his defense…
…yet the sincerity in her voice, dropping her weapons to emphasize her point…
Just who was she?
Not taking any chances, as well as capitalizing on his own opportunity, Achilleus suddenly pounced like a lion on it's prey, hitting Sophitia square in the face with an elbow. She soon crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Achilleus gazed down at the comatose body of his adversary. Getting on one knee, his senses flared, his viciousness was at a peak. No longer in control of his own actions, which wasn't much of a change, in reality, he brought Alpha to Sophitia's neck.
She had to be killed…if only to sate his killer instinct, bred by a lifetime of only war.
"Pray to your patron god for a safe voyage to Elysium…" he said coldly. "To show you mercy. For I will not."
He raised his sword above his head, savoring every moment of the kill, before he finally did.
Before her blood can stain his sword, however, it stopped inches from her neck. His veins bulged on the sides of his cranium, as a sort of great pressure soon found his way into his brain.
Unable to bear, Achilleus slumped down next to the innate body of Sophitia, he himself soon drifting to unconscious, the stress unbearable even for him….
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March 12th, 1566
Athens, Ottoman Empire
It was a windy day in the Alexandra household, as a young, 2 year old. Achilleus yawned in drowsiness. He was waiting for his mother to tuck him in, but after a long time, she did not come.
Curious as to what was taking her so long, he timidly climbed down the stairs, gingerly on each step.
Finally reaching the kitchen, he saw a congregation of people upon the place; family, friends, physicians, all clamoring in excitement at what his mother was holding.
A wailing baby girl, whom Achilleus was observing carefully.
Nike, his mother, soon noticed her young son looking timidly at the whole scene.
"Achilleus," she said with pride, as she held the newborn on her shoulders. "Say hi to your baby sister.." she paused as she thought of a name. Finally deciding on one, she beamed as he continued.
"…Sophitia.."
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And with that, Achilleus woke with a start, the strain visible on his face. Cold beads of sweat rained down his face.
These sort of visions….he had never had them before.
He was no stranger to hallucinations. Out of hunger or thirst, or simply Ares toying with his mind, they had raided his conscious being many a times.
Yet Ares had never shown much proficiency in these sort of things, nor were they able to affect him, shake his core so efficiently, like just now.
He only knew one god…or goddess , rather, who could do such a feat. The Goddess of Wisdom, the mind.
"Athena…" he said in a slow whisper. Suddenly, his heart raced. If she knew of his existence, she had surely told the other gods by now…
..and he couldn't have that. The only one who knew of his existence was Ares. For all intents and purposes, he was dead.
Yet if that were to change…
"No," Achilleus only shook his head. He was thinking of this too much. Even if true, that only meant he had that much less time in finding this sword.
Quite frankly, he feared Ares' retribution more than that of the other gods.
He now looked to the still inert body of Sophitia. Even with the blood tricklikng, her face was faultless, angelic….
…like any pious servant of Olympus; he snorted at the thought. Yet she wasn't as heavenly and angelic as she would have herself believe. She was now a servant of the blade he pursued: Soul Edge, or 'Nightmare', as it called itself.
She was a killer…
…much like himself. As much as she didn't want to admit it.
"Yet she has her uses, weak as she is," Achilleus said, pondering. He might be able to get some information off of her.
Like where Soul Edge resided. Then, of course, he would kill her…
…but that would come in due time.
Making up his mind, he slumped the still inert body of his new captive over his shoulder, the weight effortless, like a feather.
A black raven soared over head, croaking loudly at the sight. He paid it no heed, and instead took off, concealing himself in the shrubbery of the forest, the maiden in tow.
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The raven continued it's track across the forests, finally flapping it's wings and resting to a stop on the green feathered glove outstretched towards him. The owner of said hand, now lovingly petting one of her many avian companions, had a revealing green feathered dress, more for flexibility and maneuverability than for decency. Her blue hair stuck out, and she had the face of one who has killed many, yet is able to hide it in a façade of cuteness…
….not that she's good at hiding it anyway.
Tira had felt the black soul of the man she was now watching, her reluctant partner, Sophitia ; now his captive. Nightmare hated weakness such as this in any of his servants, and for that, her soul would make an excellent meal for Soul Edge.
But before she did that, she desperartely NEEDED to be play with this new arrival.
"He's such a cutie pie!" she said giddily at first.
However, her face soon distorted into one of insanity and bloodlust, a snarl encompassing her lips that would make anyone squeal for mercy.
"It's such a shame when I have to tear him apart," she said, her voice now deeper, and more sadistic. With that, ring blade straddled on her shoulder, she jumped from tree to tree, going on the exact same path Achilleus made.
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