Dusk: Second Chances

Chapter One

"What is the cause of historical events? Power. What is power? Power is the sum total of wills transferred to one person. On what condition are the wills of the masses transferred to one person? On condition that the person express the will of the whole people. That is, power is power. That is, power is a word the meaning of which we do not understand. "

― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

Seven years had passed, and during that time the world had slowly begun to recover from its ordeal. Moonbloods slowly integrated back into society, but old prejudices were difficult to completely eradicate, and the moonbloods found themselves faced with thinly-veiled tolerance and wary suspicion. There were villages where they were openly accepted, but Gaius's army had not been entirely decimated in the Moonblood Genocide. There existed many people who still believed Gaius's opinion of the moonbloods, and hate crimes were frequent.

Ginger had become a spokesperson for the moonbloods. She traveled often to spread the idea of acceptance and tolerance to the people who had been outcasted for so long. Though this resulted with her own share of hostility from other warmbloods, she valiantly defended her cause.

Nevertheless, an uprising was in the making, and Gaius's name still revently whispered on the winds.

Soon, they promised. Soon...

The explosion that occurred after striking the final blow against Gaius had broken his back. He had felt something in his spine snap, and numbness from the waist down had quickly followed. The heat had been overwhelming, and as Gaius plunged into the rolling depths of magma, Dust knew that his own end would be similar. Death was almost instant for the General, the heat scorching his lungs, his clothing and flesh igniting into a fire that consumed him to the bone and buried him in liquid rock.

He was lucky, he realized as he looked up at Fidget's and Ginger's horrified and saddened expressions. General Gaius had died looking into the face of someone he felt had betrayed him, his army decimated, his dreams turned to ash. His last thoughts were likely those of despair and loss. But here was Dust, about to die under the gaze of trusted friends, his questions for the most part answered and his goals achieved.

Dust smiled and closed his eyes as heat consumed him, and he willingly resigned himself to death. Pain gave way to numbness, and the brightness of fire faded into darkness. For a time, he knew peace.

A flash of light, the brief sensation of falling, and the sudden immersion into coldness that denied him breath. Dust thrashed, instinctively kicking out. He couldn't tell up from down, couldn't see, because every time he tried opening his eyes they would sting from the liquid surrounding him.

His hand broke the surface, his body twisting to follow. He plunged his head upward with a hoarse gasp of air into burning lungs before falling and submerging again. He thrashed mindlessly until someone grasped him around the middle, and he found himself being pulled up. The weightless feeling left his body as gravity reclaimed him, hauled out of the water and into the air. Dust's body was wracked with hacking coughs as he tried to expel all of the water that had been taken into his lungs. There were hands that guided him to sit up and bent him over, sharp cuffs to his back helping to knock the water out of his lungs with each heavy cough.

When at last he could breathe somewhat easily, his throat raw from coughing, Dust squinted and tried to look up at his savior... but it was night, and all he could see were two glowing white eyes. He flinched as a hand, black as the night itself, reached up to move his sopping hair from his face.

"Be at ease, my friend. You are in good company," a quiet, sinister-sounding voice told him. Dust frowned momentarily, but there was some recognition behind that voice... and he found himself believing him, despite the tone in which the message was delivered.

Blackness took him again.

Dust woke to the sound of voices and the warmth of a crackling fire. One of the voices was shrill and squeaky. The other he recognized as the quiet, sinister voice from earlier. His ear twitched, his brow furrowing as he frowned, trying to listen to what was being said.

"... - you sure you haven't seen Ahrah anywhere!? It's a giant sword that sometimes talks, has little glowy runes on it?! You've seen it before!"

"Repetition of your question will not change the answer I have given."

"But it's not in the pond! If Dust appeared and fell into the pond, the sword had to have gone somewhere. It's not like swords just disappear into thin air!"

"It's not as if bodies simly appear out of thin air either, and yet, here we are."

"...Your voice of reason sucks. Just saying."

"I am here to serve."

"Yeah, well, serve better." The shrill voice had settled into a disgruntled sort of mutter, but softened further as he heard the soft flapping of wings draw close. "Hey... I think he's waking up! Dust?"

Dust slowly opened his eyes in response. His blurry sight focused on a small, kittenish face with large green eyes and oversized ears. "Hello, Fidget," he murmured.

"DUST!" The nimbat hurled herself at him and ran into his chest, tucking her face up beneath his chin, bawling shamelessly. "I thought you were dead! Well, you were dead! But you're alive! I'm so happy to see y- Why are you wearing Sereth's robes?"

"You have only just noticed that?" Sereth asked, sitting on the opposite side of the fire from Dust. The moonblood was wearing a simple gold-trimmed purple tunic over black slacks. His boots were sitting a bit closer to the fire, likely drying out from his plunge into the water to rescue him. Dusk was surprised to see straight, shoulder-length golden-yellow hair swept back from his head and hanging down to his shoulders. It stood out in stark contrast to his black scales.

"I was a little preoccupied! ...Wait! I don't see his clothes hanging out to dry! ...Is he naked under there?!"

"As much as any of us are beneath our clothing, Fidget."

The nimbat flew up into the air. "That's not what I meant! You're telling me that whatever force it was that brought him back could create an entire body for him, but didn't even give him any clothing?! How lazy! ...Not to mention indecent."

Dust coughed out a chuckle. "Says the naked flying nimbat."

"Hey!" Her affront didn't last long, though. She flew back down to sit on Dust's chest as he propped himself up on his elbows, reaching out to touch his face. "...Naked reincarnations aside, I'm really, really glad to see you again, Dust." She smiled, then perked up. "Oh, oh! We need to tell Ginger! And Haley! Ooh, especially Haley! Did you know she's actually been by a lot over the years to pine over your dead floaty mistiness?"

That stopped him cold. "...Years?"

"Trust you to completely ignore the part about the girl pining over you. Yes, years. Seven years, to be exact."

Dust lifted his hand to his forehead, pressing his fingers to his temples as he closed his eyes. "...Why, though?"

Sereth spoke up at that point. "I would imagine for the same reason Jin and Cassius's souls were combined to create you in the first place. You have been brought back because there is something you need to do."

"...Way to be depressing, Sereth," Fidget mumbled. "Couldn't the divine forces that be have resurrected him, you know, just as a sort of reward? 'Here, Dust, you've worked your butt off and suffered more than anyone has any right to suffer in order to save the world, and we think it was pretty crappy of us to return you straight to the Life Thread, so here! Have a second chance. Hook up with that Haley girl and get laid!' You know, something like that."

"Fidget." Dust groaned and buried his face in his hand.

"If I may make a recommendation," the moonblood spoke up from across the fire. Leaning forward to where a kettle was hanging over the fire, Sereth tipped it to pour a fragrant tea into a small cup. Standing, he moved to Dust's side and sat next to him, offering him the tea. "There is little point in pondering it tonight. You have been dead for seven years. At least take this night to rest and reacquaint yourself with the living world."

"Thank you," Dust murmured, sitting up a little further and lifting the steaming cup to his lips, sipping from it. "That does sound like... a pretty decent suggestion, actually."

Sereth's lips curled into a smile. "I do have them from time to time."

Dust smiled in return. "So... how's the situation been with the moonbloods been?"

"Ah, well." Reaching over to pour himself a cup of tea as well, the firelight reflected off his flaxen hair, adding further contrast to the darkness of his scales. "It is better than it has been, I can say that much. We are no longer outcasts, but there are many places we are still not welcome. We continue to keep mostly to ourselves, out of habit just as much as out of consideration to others who are uncomfortable with our presence."

Dust frowned into his tea. "I would have thought that there wouldn't be any more problems, now that Gaius is dead."

"That is an unexpectedly naive assumption, coming from you." Sereth looked to Dust quizzically, though he softened at the fox's frown. "My apologies, I did not mean to come across as harsh. I forget you have the soul of an innocent in you as well as the assassin." Sipping from his tea, he gathered his thoughts for a moment. "Gaius was not the only warmblood who held a distrust and hatred for my people, and many of his army still live. They have their families, to which they indoctrinate their prejudices into their young, and the young tell their friends, who take their word as truth and spread it to other young, impressionable minds."

"So it was all for nothing." Dust lifted his head, brow furrowed and ears lowered.

"Not at all. None of the moonbloods would be alive today if not for you." He waved a hand slightly. "Forgive me my pessimism. I spoke of the trials my people face, but did not shed any light onto the good we have experienced. There are many villages in which we are welcomed, and Ginger has done so much to spread knowledge and acceptance of the moonbloods. She is the ambassador of our people, you know."

Dust smiled warmly at that. "That doesn't surprise me. Ginger's a strong woman. Not many could endure what she has and still fight for the rights of another people."

"Indeed not," Sereth agreed. His luminescent eyes half-lidded with a smile as a yawn split Dust's face. Fidget had long since passed out curled up at Dust's side, her paws tightly wound in the robes he had loaned to him. Leaning forward, he plucked the empty cup from Dust's hands. "Sleep," he advised quietly. "We will speak more in the morning."

"Again with the sensible ideas," Dust retorted with a faint smirk. Shifting to lay back down, mindful not to wake Fidget, he curled up around the nimbat and pillowed his head in his arm, closing his eyes. Just before he was about to drift off, a thought occurred to him, and his pale eyes opened. "...Sereth?"

"Yes?" The moonblood paused in the midst of pouring himself another cup of tea, turning his gaze to Dust.

"I was pretty lucky that you were there to pull me out of the water. Or do you make it a habit of visiting my... grave, or whatever, even more than Harley apparently does?" Dust's brow rose beneath his bangs, staring at the dark figure across the fire.

A mysterious smile curled the corners of Sereth's mouth. "Call it fate. Or fortune, if you are still not one to believe in fate after all you have seen."

Dust frowned. "...Were you the one to wake me up?"

"No. I have not that sort of power. I do, however, have a certain foresight that has assisted with the makings of many of my decisions."

"So you knew it was going to happen."

"I knew something was going to happen." He smiled at Dust's lingering confusion and suspicion. "Best to let this particular matter go, Dust. Attempting to explain to you my aptitude for foresight would be akin to a fish trying to explain to a land dweller how it breathes water instead of air."

Dust sighed, closing his eyes again. "Well, thanks anyway."

"You are most welcome."

A/N: Hello hello! So I bought Dust on Steam a few days ago, and now that I've finished it, I've found myself woefully lacking in much fanart or fanfiction for this wonderful game. So for once I was actually inspired to write something myself. Now, I am not planning on making this story solely action-packed. I'm a sucker for romances. That said, I don't have a set romance for this story yet - and that is where you come in, dear readers. I would really appreciate your feedback, hearing what you like or don't like about the story and what you would like to see more/less of.

Also, I'm sure someone out there will be really confused as to why I say Sereth has blonde hair. If you look beneath his hood in the game, he has two small yellow braids hanging down. So there's my reason for that.

Just a forewarning: my updates will not be reliable. I have a history of very sporadic updates, and pressuring me relentlessly to do so generally just gets my muse all flustered and then she won't talk to me at all. Even so, I am determined to finish this one. Let's do this!