DISCLAIMER: The characters, story, universe, etc. of Soul Calibur
belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to
them.
As the lightning falls by YF-21
"" denotes speech. _ _ denotes emphasis.
Chapter 2
"Why do you weep for the dead?."
Although the storm was gone, the sky was still clouded and rain lightly fell over the ruins. The once fine village was razed, the fires had spreaded and consumed everything in their path.
"You should rejoice, for they _died_ for you."
Bodies lyed atop of each other in the village´s central square. Familiar faces among the carcasses.
"Grief is as useless as love."
The sentinel´s grim chore had finally come to an end. Under the Soul Edge´s supervision, it took Sophitia the entire night to drag and pile up the corpses.
"They loved you enough to die for you. But at the same time, they didn´t love you _enough_ to rid you of your misery."
Her hands twitched in reply.
"You mortals are such petty creatures. They got themselves killed because it was _actually_ easier to die than dealing with you."
...
"Interesting isn´t it?. You have shed tears and blood for them, but they didn´t mind taking the easy way when things got _complicated_."
Sophitia kneeled in front of the pile of bodies, the blacksmith´s sword in her hands, the tip of the blade only a few centimetres away from her flat stomach. The infernal weapon was stuck by her side, the horrid eye watching her intently.
"Go ahead. Do it. Make the pain end. You are just like them. A _coward_."
She was awake. She was aware. Whatever trance she was into ended abruptly, the results of her unconscious deeds rotting in front of her.
The deep, masculine voice of the Soul Edge echoed in her mind, full of scorn. Despite the fact that she was no longer holding it, the sword somehow was still ´linked´ to her.
"Kill yourself so the cycle may begin again, so another twenty-four can be chosen."
For the last two hundred years, both Soul Edge swords had been stalked by the chosen of Hephaestus, the greek God of the forge and blacksmiths. He appointed a total of twenty-four mortals in order of the greek alphabet, each to be activated in their predecessor´s defeat. Each of their origins were unique, from the captain of the royal knights to the daughter of a baker, yet each of their spirits were the same. Each was pious with all their soul and could hear the voice of the Gods.
"Kill yourself so another twenty-four can be sacrificed to _Him_."
It wasn´t enough. No matter how pious they were or how strong their faith in the Gods was, they all faced grim fates. While most of them were simply slain by the Soul Edge blades, others faced fates perhaps even worse than death itself. It was even rumored that the whole ´chosen´ thing was nothing more than a fancy cover for a damnation.
When the priests of the ancestral order of Hephaestus claimed that the God had designated a baker´s daughter as the next chosen, nobody gave Sophitia Alexandra the slightest of chances; but to everybody´s surprise and in spite of severe injuries, the maiden made what warriors, knights, sailors and priests couldn´t accomplish: she had destroyed at least one of the accursed weapons.
Nevertheless, if Sophitia was the most successful of Hephaestus´s chosen, her fate would be the most twisted and tragic of them all...
"Do it."
Horrible, inexplicable images burnt in her brain. Voices. Whispers. Screams. It had to be an illusion. It had to be a trick or something. It made no sense. It was impossible. She would never let anything happen to _them_. She would have died for _them_.
"What is it so hard to understand?. We killed them all, mortal."
Her eyes widened. Sophitia´s body convulsed with terror as she realized the inevitable truth.
"It wasn´t hard wasn´t it?. It was not difficult for you to follow my orders, whatever they were. I can´t blame you, though, since you are used to follow commands."
...
"After all, you are just another _pawn_ of Hephaestus, right?."
The soft whimpering. Tears freely fell over the ruined land.
All these last years, she had not fought for herself. She had not fought in behalf of the Gods. She had fought for _them_. Her family and friends. To spare them from the horrors she had seen during her journeys. To see them safe. To see them happy. To see them alive.
Their faces. Their smiles. The way she remembered them. These memories of the better times long gone. The memories of when life was good and simple. Those were the memories that granted her the strength to carry on, to finish the divine duty. The memories of the life she had before she heard _His_ voice for the first time. The voice of Hephaestus. His calling.
Why?. Why her?. Nobody could give her an answer. Not even her father, who always seemed to have an answer for everything. Not even the priests of the order. It was the God´s will.
She was no warrior, she was no knight. She hadn´t even lifted a sword in her entire life!. She was not a princess nor a queen!. She was just the daughter of a baker!. Who cared about the killings in those far lands?!. They were _afar_, right?!. What business she had with the devourers of souls?!. What could she do about it?!. She was just a normal girl!.
She used to be a normal girl.
All those times she had to hide it. The fear. The dread. The fact that she was scared to death. She hide it from her loved beings to keep them from suffering. In those days her hands would shake from time to time, the anxiety turning into a nervous tick.
"After all, there was _nothing_ you could do about it, could you?."
She was not strong. She was not brave. She was weak-willed. She did not dared to refuse the calling as much as she wanted to, for fear of Hephaestus might have taken it as an insult. For fear of what the God could do to _them_.
Responding the call, Sophitia became the next Sentinel and Sacred warrior of Hephaestus. Nobody else would have to take the ´honor´ in her place. Even if it was a death mark. Even if it was suicide. She accepted the task, the weapons and the burden.
She left in the middle of the night, leaving her loved ones in their sleep, very behind. She did not dared to look back for fear that she might break right there. The girl had sworn that she would not return home until the duty was done, until they were safe. Until it would be over.
Three years had passed since then. Three years since the last time she even heard from them. The sentinel was finally home now; the promise she had made was kept, in some sort of way...
It was over.
The stench of the dead filled her lungs. Whether by her hand or not, the reason of her fighting was gone.
She had failed.
She had failed the Gods. She had failed herself.
She had failed _them_.
She couldn´t take it anymore; the pain, the suffering, the helplessness. Rain of tears flowed from her eyes, the despair tearing her heart apart.
Why?!. Why did They let this happen?!. How come They did not prevent this?!. Why did They took everything away from her?!. She was Their chosen!. She did Their bidding!.
Damned be the Gods!. Damned be their secrecy, their whims!. They never told her anything, just what she _needed_ to know!. They never warned her of anything!. They never told her of what the cursed swords did when they shattered!. She still carried those horrible scars all over her body!. She could have died there!. They never did anything for her, despite all the things she did in Their name!.
"Why would They?. You are just a name in His list. Another of the letters in His damned alphabet."
Why?!. Why this?!. What _else_ did They wanted from her?!.
Her eyes narrowed. She knew the answer all along...
The damned thing. The Soul Edge
The sentinel no longer wanted to think, to feel. Seeking refuge in the safety of anger, Sophitia stood up, the blacksmith´s sword in her hand.
Red eyes met the infernal weapon, its horrid eye. The wicked smile in her face.
"Will you let the Gods also take your sanity?."
It didn´t matter. She no longer cared. It had to die. It had to end. Because of it, the Gods had chosen her in the first place. Because of it, her loved ones were dead. That thing had ruined her whole life.
There was no wielder around, the massive Soul Edge was stuck in the ground, defenceless...
The ´Swords of salvation´, the ´Blades of heroes´... They weren´t that _great_. They weren´t that _tough_. Despite all the things said and done, in the end they would shatter like every other weapon. Just like everyone else.
"Yes, destroy _me_. It is what it was expected of you, isn´t it?."
It was so simple. All that she had to do was to drive her blade through its eye and it would be over. Without no one interfering this time, the rain of shards would take her pain away and...
She would be free.
"You have lived all these last years as a pawn. Are you also willing to die as such?."
The resolution in her face. Fearlessly, Sophitia walked towards the hellish blade; aiming the blade towards the sword´s eye, she thrusted the weapon- A light erupted from the eye of the Soul Edge, the sentinel´s eyes narrowing as the powerful lightning bolt hit her, sending indescriptible pain all over her body.
The woman fell to her knees, the sword slipping out of her hands. Only the fading strength of her arms prevented her from collapsing; In a final gesture of defiance, she stared into the baleful eye. "Why?."
"Because it wouldn´t make a difference. Your anger and despair only served Their purposes." The eye looked back at her. "Even in the end you still did Their bidding."
It seemed that the Gods wouldn´t even let her have her revenge. With the last of her strengths leaving her, the girl bluntly fell to the mud, drifting into unconsciousness.
////////////
"You are finally awake."
Sophitia´s eyes opened, her senses coming back to her. The putrid smell of the bodies. The rasping mud. The soft falling of the rain. The devastation around her. The taste of her own blood. The pain. The suffering. It was as bad as she had suspected. She was still alive.
The voice of the Soul Edge still echoed in her mind, its tone cold and firm.
"Tell me, why do you think I did this to you?."
In her mind there was only one answer.
"Revenge?. You give too much credit to yourself, mortal. Actually, I should _thank_ you for destroying my counterpart; Now that I get to keep all the souls I harvest for myself, I have only grown stronger ever since."
"Why then?." Her voice was as soft as a whisper. "Why did you killed them?."
"Why did I kill them?. Killing doesn´t need a purpose. The killing is its _own_ purpose. You don´t ask why a plague spreads or why a field burns. Don´t ask me why I kill."
The fiendish sword needed no reason for killing. It just did. The horrid eye only sees throats and hungers for the souls beneath them.
Her eyelids felt heavy. Before, the eyes of the woman had burned with intensity; Now they were devoid of life. For much as Sophitia wanted to, her bloodshot eyes couldn´t shed more tears. Everything around Soul Edge suffered. "Why have you come here?."
"My counterpart and I were objects of desire to your kind. We still are. For a _small_ price we granted our wielders what they wanted. All around the world, mortals came for us, whether because of their greed, ambitions, lust for power or thirst of knowledge. It did not mattered, though, since we decided who was worthy of our hilts."
...
"We lived for the heat of the battle. For the thrill. For the excitement. To feast on the souls of the defeated. To smell their intoxicating fear. To watch them writhing in _delicious_ agony. To feel _alive_."
The sentinel couldn´t help listening to the Soul Edge´s horrible tale. The accursed blade was no other than the ruin of the living. A hellish artifact totally bent on death and destruction.
"One night a man came before us, a holy man, claiming that he have been sent on a divine quest to cleanse the land from our foul touch. The priest draw a sword that seemed to glitter in the utter darkness. A formidable weapon indeed, but useless in such uncapable hands. As soon as the fight started, the flame of his devotion was quenched by the loss of hope and as with any fool who would die because some God tells him to, we disemboweled him."
...
"That was only the begining. Every few years another mortal would show up, making the same ludicrous boasts and all of them, wielding the same strange sword. Some were skilled warriors. Some even proved to be quite a match for our wielders; Their courage only matched by the strength of their wills. That was the reason we couldn´t help sneering when your turn came..."
...
"Such arrogance proved to be my counterpart´s downfall. I had understimated you, and my mistake costed me dearly. The glittering sword was forged by no other than Hephaestus´s appointed blacksmith for the sole purpose of destroying us."
...
"And for the first time in my existance, I felt fear. The fear of dying. The fear to vanish. I would no longer wait for those mortals to come before me. _I_ would come to them instead. You made me understand that I had enemies out there, and that those enemies were needed to be dealt swiftly and precisely."
...
"Do you still think I came for your family, mortal?."
Her eyes widened as she realized it. It didn´t come for her family. It didn´t come to exact revenge on her.
"Those wretched swords shall _never_ threaten my existance again."
Rothion.
Soul Edge had come for Rothion.
"He knew what there could be for him when he accepted the task."
Sophitia used to recall the man with sweetness. A good friend of her older brother Lucius, Rothion was the finest blacksmith in the whole village; Such was his dedication to the forge and the quality of his works that he was even considered one of the greatest smiths in all Greece.
All those afternoons spent in the smithery. After her chores were done, she would join her brother in their talks, while the men worked. There she would listen to all those marvelous tales and myths about the Gods. The all- mighty Zeus, God of the Gods. The devious Ares, God of war. The cunning Athena. The ruthless Hades, lord of the Underworld...
Of Hephaestus, God of the forge. As ill-tempered as the blazing fire but as righteous and cold as the steel.
But most of all, she wouldn´t get her eyes off _him_...
There was something about the man; something that made her smile whenever he was around. Perhaps it was the deep hazel eyes, his funny laugh or his kind, generous spirit. Whatever the reason was, Sophitia couldn´t help feeling attracted to the blacksmith.
As the warmth grew beneath her chest, also did the insecurities in her. What could she offer him?. She had heard of the women Rothion pretended during his talks with her brother. She also knew them. Gorgeous, intelligent women. What was she compared to them?.
Why would the smith even notice her, as older as he was?. She was just a girl. Even if she got past her shyness to actually tell him about her feelings, what if he didn´t share them?. What if he saw her only as a friend, or even _worse_, if he saw her as a small sister?.
The horrible fear of rejection kept her at bay. She would have to keep all those feelings to herself. It didn´t matter, though, because as while she could be close to him, she would be happy. Happy even if she couldn´t have him.
When Hephaestus´s priests came to the village to notify her parents of her summoning as the next of the God´s chosen, Rothion interceded in her behalf and claimed that he would forge the weapons for her. It was his right, after all. Whenever the God of the forge designated a chosen, a contest would start among fellow blacksmiths to decide who would forge the weapons for the warrior; the winner would not only be endowed with the title of the God´s appointed blacksmith but would get to work with divine ore coming from the Eurydice shrine itself. Such was the honor to serve Hephaestus and such was the privilege to work with the sacred iron that the contest was indeed needed.
Rothion needed no contest to be endowed with such title as the priests considered that his reputation not only exceded him, but most of all, were convinced by the fact that he was already _there_.
Supplied with the sacred iron, the man worked in the smithery for days; The wait was well worth it as he ended up forging a wonderful set of weapons: The Omega sword and the Elk shield. They would not only serve her to destroy the evil blades but to guide and protect her during her journey.
Only the Gods knew what the Soul Edge had done with them.
"So did you."
Sophitia couldn´t find the strength to stand up from the mud. She was too tired for it. What was the use in it anyways?. What for?. All the memories that gave her strength before now backfired, as she couldn´t help mourning for what she had lost. For all the friends dead. For the family she would never see again. For all those feelings untold.
What was the use in living if the only thing she had left was her suffering?. The Gods had taken her reasons to fight for, if not her reasons to live for.
"What are you waiting for?." The sentinel asked aloud. "I´m your enemy. Aren´t you supposed to destroy me?."
Soul Edge looked at the beaten, broken woman before it. "An enemy?. The Gods have clearly forsaken you. What threat you pose to me?."
"I´m still a warrior of Hephaestus."
"So were the ones who came before you." The evil sword countered. "And they ended up dead or forsaken as well."
"Or perhaps you thought that I was referring to His damn order as my enemies." It continued. "Do think Hephaestus chose as many mortals as He did because He had faith in them?..."
"...Or because He knew they would surely _fail_?."
She didn´t flinch at the sword´s words. Somehow she had always known it. She didn´t mind dying for the God if that meant that her loved ones would be safe.
"That doesn´t change anything!." She yelled at it. "You live to kill! Kill me!."
...
"Do you find me disgusting or something, monster?!" Her voice became full of anger. "That has never stopped you before! Now, kill me!."
The blazing orbs lit again, revealing the hint of the growing madness behind them. Finding the strength she needed in her hate and indignation, she found a small rock near her and tossed it at the blade.
The projectile flew through the air only to bounce harmlessly off the sword.
"You loved them, didn´t you?." The soft, cold voice.
The red orbs stared at the baleful eye again. "Yes."
"How much?."
"I would have died for them." It was truth.
"Really?." Soul Edge asked. "Wouldn´t you kill for them?."
Her eyes widened.
"Wouldn´t you kill for them, if that meant bringing them back?."
"How?." The response left her at the same time she thought it.
"The weight of death is heavy but not immovable." The evil sword answered. "As long as the soul, the essence perdures, nothing is truly lost."
...
"With the proper rituals and procedures, resurrection is only a mere step away."
Soul Edge offered it´s would-be wielders what they wanted, not what they _needed_.
The carnages. The horrors. The devastation. She had seen with her own eyes the remains of those villages and towns consumed by the Soul Edge´s unsatiable hunger. Would she become the wielder of the fiendish sword?. Would she trade life for life with the evil blade?. Would others have to die because of her wishes?.
No. They would not. She had seen enough of the insanity; Of those wicked wielders, slaves to the will of the infernal artifact, bringing death and ruin beyond compare. She would not become part of that madness.
It had taken everything away from her. She would not give it that _pleasure_. "If you are asking me to-
"Spare the weak if you want. Spare the innocent, I don´t care." The infernal weapon interrupted her. "It´s not them who I seek...
"I want you to shatter my enemies the same way you did with my counterpart."
...
"See how merciful I am?." The audible smile in its voice. "How many mortals gets second chances like this?."
A second chance.
A chance to set things right, to regain what she had lost.
For tempting it was, she dismissed the thought. Soul Edge was not offering her a second chance, but a _damnation_.
"Mercy?." She sneered at it. "Forget it monster, I will not become another of your puppets."
"Actually, it is of little consequence whether you come or not." It countered. "I will always find someone else who will."
Pondering over its words, she finally understood.
It was happening _again_.
In some way, the God of the forge was no better than the evil sword, because it is was of little consequence whether she succeded in her mission or not for there would be always someone _else_ who would be forced to do it.
When she was chosen as Hephaestus´s sentinel, nobody asked her if she wanted to. She never had a choice in the matter, because for the God and the priests her opinion was completely irrelevant. It always was.
From one day to another, the only priority Sophitia would have in her life would be to ensure the destruction of the infernal artifacts, regardless of the cost. But for the girl, the priorities changed as she changed during her journeys. The trials and tribulations she faced had hardened her character: she would no longer fight just to return home, she would fight to spare her loved ones from the horrors she had seen. Even if her shield carried the insignia of the God, she knew she did it only for her family.
Once again, her opinion was irrelevant.
Their faces. Their smiles.
They had given everything for her, so that she could live. Why they were so stupid?!. Live?!. Live for what?!. Live to writhe in horror?!. Live to beg for death, as she did?!. She knew it. She was not worth it. She was not worth of the sacrifice.
She was not worth of their love.
It was not fair, but it was not her place to complain but to act. Soul Edge had her loved ones as ´hostages´. Whether serving a God or a demon, she would only fight for them.
Once again, she didn´t have a choice in the matter.
"How can I trust you?." The weak voice left her throat, as if resigned.
"You can´t." Soul Edge answered. "But those who have nothing should have _nothing_ to fear."
Her hands twitched in reply. There would no salvation for her, but there could still be a chance for them.
A chance. To see her loved ones safe. To see them happy. To see them _alive_. Again.
For this end, she would sell her body, mind and soul to very monster who killed them in the first place...
...And she would be glad for it.
////////////
The column of light stretched out to the skies, illuminating the night sky with its glow. The phenomenon would only last for a few seconds before fading into the darkness. Some witnesses would be terrified of it, others would watch in awe. While those of different faiths would consider it a miracle of their Gods, more open minds would try to get a scientific explanation for it.
But most of them would be completely ignorant of it´s meaning.
Of the ruins only a smoldering crater remained, the column devastating everything in its range, the burning light consuming even the fleeting storm clouds. The smoke would dissapate into the air and the dust would finally settle, revealing a figure before the moonlight.
Something. Someone.
Someone had survived the blast. Someone had been spared of the glowing blaze.
Soul Edge had changed, its massive form reverting into a small, thick sword. The baleful eye would stare at the nothingness, in expectation; The blade as black as its intentions.
The moment the girl became Hephaestus´s warrior, she was full of fear.
The moment the sentnel drove the Omega Sword into the eye of one of the infernal artifacts, her eyes had glittered with hope.
The moment Sophitia Alexandra looked the reflection of her face in the remaining evil blade, she was with neither them.
To be continued...
Author Notes:
Before anybody says anything, I already know that Lucius is Sophitia´s _younger_ brother, what I did, I did only because of a Plot purpose. I don´t think it´s actually relevant, anyways. About Rothion being older than her, well, I think he looked older in Sophitia´s SC ending.
I rewrote this because it´s way closer to what I had in mind than the first time I posted this crap, I wouldn´t write it if writing wasn´t as funny as it is.
Actually, these two chapters are in fact, only a prologue. Others characters will show up from now on.
About my decision of making Sophie a villain, I think that given the right circumstances, she´s a funny character to mess with. You know, if it´s not tragic, it´s not greek.
...And please, _review_. First time I posted this crap, I got a review that wasn´t even a review. It only takes you 2 sec and it really, really helps.
Until next time.
Comments?, Critics?, Death Threats?: mail me at serjzerg@hotmail.com
belongs to Namco. They're not mine, and I make no claim to
them.
As the lightning falls by YF-21
"" denotes speech. _ _ denotes emphasis.
Chapter 2
"Why do you weep for the dead?."
Although the storm was gone, the sky was still clouded and rain lightly fell over the ruins. The once fine village was razed, the fires had spreaded and consumed everything in their path.
"You should rejoice, for they _died_ for you."
Bodies lyed atop of each other in the village´s central square. Familiar faces among the carcasses.
"Grief is as useless as love."
The sentinel´s grim chore had finally come to an end. Under the Soul Edge´s supervision, it took Sophitia the entire night to drag and pile up the corpses.
"They loved you enough to die for you. But at the same time, they didn´t love you _enough_ to rid you of your misery."
Her hands twitched in reply.
"You mortals are such petty creatures. They got themselves killed because it was _actually_ easier to die than dealing with you."
...
"Interesting isn´t it?. You have shed tears and blood for them, but they didn´t mind taking the easy way when things got _complicated_."
Sophitia kneeled in front of the pile of bodies, the blacksmith´s sword in her hands, the tip of the blade only a few centimetres away from her flat stomach. The infernal weapon was stuck by her side, the horrid eye watching her intently.
"Go ahead. Do it. Make the pain end. You are just like them. A _coward_."
She was awake. She was aware. Whatever trance she was into ended abruptly, the results of her unconscious deeds rotting in front of her.
The deep, masculine voice of the Soul Edge echoed in her mind, full of scorn. Despite the fact that she was no longer holding it, the sword somehow was still ´linked´ to her.
"Kill yourself so the cycle may begin again, so another twenty-four can be chosen."
For the last two hundred years, both Soul Edge swords had been stalked by the chosen of Hephaestus, the greek God of the forge and blacksmiths. He appointed a total of twenty-four mortals in order of the greek alphabet, each to be activated in their predecessor´s defeat. Each of their origins were unique, from the captain of the royal knights to the daughter of a baker, yet each of their spirits were the same. Each was pious with all their soul and could hear the voice of the Gods.
"Kill yourself so another twenty-four can be sacrificed to _Him_."
It wasn´t enough. No matter how pious they were or how strong their faith in the Gods was, they all faced grim fates. While most of them were simply slain by the Soul Edge blades, others faced fates perhaps even worse than death itself. It was even rumored that the whole ´chosen´ thing was nothing more than a fancy cover for a damnation.
When the priests of the ancestral order of Hephaestus claimed that the God had designated a baker´s daughter as the next chosen, nobody gave Sophitia Alexandra the slightest of chances; but to everybody´s surprise and in spite of severe injuries, the maiden made what warriors, knights, sailors and priests couldn´t accomplish: she had destroyed at least one of the accursed weapons.
Nevertheless, if Sophitia was the most successful of Hephaestus´s chosen, her fate would be the most twisted and tragic of them all...
"Do it."
Horrible, inexplicable images burnt in her brain. Voices. Whispers. Screams. It had to be an illusion. It had to be a trick or something. It made no sense. It was impossible. She would never let anything happen to _them_. She would have died for _them_.
"What is it so hard to understand?. We killed them all, mortal."
Her eyes widened. Sophitia´s body convulsed with terror as she realized the inevitable truth.
"It wasn´t hard wasn´t it?. It was not difficult for you to follow my orders, whatever they were. I can´t blame you, though, since you are used to follow commands."
...
"After all, you are just another _pawn_ of Hephaestus, right?."
The soft whimpering. Tears freely fell over the ruined land.
All these last years, she had not fought for herself. She had not fought in behalf of the Gods. She had fought for _them_. Her family and friends. To spare them from the horrors she had seen during her journeys. To see them safe. To see them happy. To see them alive.
Their faces. Their smiles. The way she remembered them. These memories of the better times long gone. The memories of when life was good and simple. Those were the memories that granted her the strength to carry on, to finish the divine duty. The memories of the life she had before she heard _His_ voice for the first time. The voice of Hephaestus. His calling.
Why?. Why her?. Nobody could give her an answer. Not even her father, who always seemed to have an answer for everything. Not even the priests of the order. It was the God´s will.
She was no warrior, she was no knight. She hadn´t even lifted a sword in her entire life!. She was not a princess nor a queen!. She was just the daughter of a baker!. Who cared about the killings in those far lands?!. They were _afar_, right?!. What business she had with the devourers of souls?!. What could she do about it?!. She was just a normal girl!.
She used to be a normal girl.
All those times she had to hide it. The fear. The dread. The fact that she was scared to death. She hide it from her loved beings to keep them from suffering. In those days her hands would shake from time to time, the anxiety turning into a nervous tick.
"After all, there was _nothing_ you could do about it, could you?."
She was not strong. She was not brave. She was weak-willed. She did not dared to refuse the calling as much as she wanted to, for fear of Hephaestus might have taken it as an insult. For fear of what the God could do to _them_.
Responding the call, Sophitia became the next Sentinel and Sacred warrior of Hephaestus. Nobody else would have to take the ´honor´ in her place. Even if it was a death mark. Even if it was suicide. She accepted the task, the weapons and the burden.
She left in the middle of the night, leaving her loved ones in their sleep, very behind. She did not dared to look back for fear that she might break right there. The girl had sworn that she would not return home until the duty was done, until they were safe. Until it would be over.
Three years had passed since then. Three years since the last time she even heard from them. The sentinel was finally home now; the promise she had made was kept, in some sort of way...
It was over.
The stench of the dead filled her lungs. Whether by her hand or not, the reason of her fighting was gone.
She had failed.
She had failed the Gods. She had failed herself.
She had failed _them_.
She couldn´t take it anymore; the pain, the suffering, the helplessness. Rain of tears flowed from her eyes, the despair tearing her heart apart.
Why?!. Why did They let this happen?!. How come They did not prevent this?!. Why did They took everything away from her?!. She was Their chosen!. She did Their bidding!.
Damned be the Gods!. Damned be their secrecy, their whims!. They never told her anything, just what she _needed_ to know!. They never warned her of anything!. They never told her of what the cursed swords did when they shattered!. She still carried those horrible scars all over her body!. She could have died there!. They never did anything for her, despite all the things she did in Their name!.
"Why would They?. You are just a name in His list. Another of the letters in His damned alphabet."
Why?!. Why this?!. What _else_ did They wanted from her?!.
Her eyes narrowed. She knew the answer all along...
The damned thing. The Soul Edge
The sentinel no longer wanted to think, to feel. Seeking refuge in the safety of anger, Sophitia stood up, the blacksmith´s sword in her hand.
Red eyes met the infernal weapon, its horrid eye. The wicked smile in her face.
"Will you let the Gods also take your sanity?."
It didn´t matter. She no longer cared. It had to die. It had to end. Because of it, the Gods had chosen her in the first place. Because of it, her loved ones were dead. That thing had ruined her whole life.
There was no wielder around, the massive Soul Edge was stuck in the ground, defenceless...
The ´Swords of salvation´, the ´Blades of heroes´... They weren´t that _great_. They weren´t that _tough_. Despite all the things said and done, in the end they would shatter like every other weapon. Just like everyone else.
"Yes, destroy _me_. It is what it was expected of you, isn´t it?."
It was so simple. All that she had to do was to drive her blade through its eye and it would be over. Without no one interfering this time, the rain of shards would take her pain away and...
She would be free.
"You have lived all these last years as a pawn. Are you also willing to die as such?."
The resolution in her face. Fearlessly, Sophitia walked towards the hellish blade; aiming the blade towards the sword´s eye, she thrusted the weapon- A light erupted from the eye of the Soul Edge, the sentinel´s eyes narrowing as the powerful lightning bolt hit her, sending indescriptible pain all over her body.
The woman fell to her knees, the sword slipping out of her hands. Only the fading strength of her arms prevented her from collapsing; In a final gesture of defiance, she stared into the baleful eye. "Why?."
"Because it wouldn´t make a difference. Your anger and despair only served Their purposes." The eye looked back at her. "Even in the end you still did Their bidding."
It seemed that the Gods wouldn´t even let her have her revenge. With the last of her strengths leaving her, the girl bluntly fell to the mud, drifting into unconsciousness.
////////////
"You are finally awake."
Sophitia´s eyes opened, her senses coming back to her. The putrid smell of the bodies. The rasping mud. The soft falling of the rain. The devastation around her. The taste of her own blood. The pain. The suffering. It was as bad as she had suspected. She was still alive.
The voice of the Soul Edge still echoed in her mind, its tone cold and firm.
"Tell me, why do you think I did this to you?."
In her mind there was only one answer.
"Revenge?. You give too much credit to yourself, mortal. Actually, I should _thank_ you for destroying my counterpart; Now that I get to keep all the souls I harvest for myself, I have only grown stronger ever since."
"Why then?." Her voice was as soft as a whisper. "Why did you killed them?."
"Why did I kill them?. Killing doesn´t need a purpose. The killing is its _own_ purpose. You don´t ask why a plague spreads or why a field burns. Don´t ask me why I kill."
The fiendish sword needed no reason for killing. It just did. The horrid eye only sees throats and hungers for the souls beneath them.
Her eyelids felt heavy. Before, the eyes of the woman had burned with intensity; Now they were devoid of life. For much as Sophitia wanted to, her bloodshot eyes couldn´t shed more tears. Everything around Soul Edge suffered. "Why have you come here?."
"My counterpart and I were objects of desire to your kind. We still are. For a _small_ price we granted our wielders what they wanted. All around the world, mortals came for us, whether because of their greed, ambitions, lust for power or thirst of knowledge. It did not mattered, though, since we decided who was worthy of our hilts."
...
"We lived for the heat of the battle. For the thrill. For the excitement. To feast on the souls of the defeated. To smell their intoxicating fear. To watch them writhing in _delicious_ agony. To feel _alive_."
The sentinel couldn´t help listening to the Soul Edge´s horrible tale. The accursed blade was no other than the ruin of the living. A hellish artifact totally bent on death and destruction.
"One night a man came before us, a holy man, claiming that he have been sent on a divine quest to cleanse the land from our foul touch. The priest draw a sword that seemed to glitter in the utter darkness. A formidable weapon indeed, but useless in such uncapable hands. As soon as the fight started, the flame of his devotion was quenched by the loss of hope and as with any fool who would die because some God tells him to, we disemboweled him."
...
"That was only the begining. Every few years another mortal would show up, making the same ludicrous boasts and all of them, wielding the same strange sword. Some were skilled warriors. Some even proved to be quite a match for our wielders; Their courage only matched by the strength of their wills. That was the reason we couldn´t help sneering when your turn came..."
...
"Such arrogance proved to be my counterpart´s downfall. I had understimated you, and my mistake costed me dearly. The glittering sword was forged by no other than Hephaestus´s appointed blacksmith for the sole purpose of destroying us."
...
"And for the first time in my existance, I felt fear. The fear of dying. The fear to vanish. I would no longer wait for those mortals to come before me. _I_ would come to them instead. You made me understand that I had enemies out there, and that those enemies were needed to be dealt swiftly and precisely."
...
"Do you still think I came for your family, mortal?."
Her eyes widened as she realized it. It didn´t come for her family. It didn´t come to exact revenge on her.
"Those wretched swords shall _never_ threaten my existance again."
Rothion.
Soul Edge had come for Rothion.
"He knew what there could be for him when he accepted the task."
Sophitia used to recall the man with sweetness. A good friend of her older brother Lucius, Rothion was the finest blacksmith in the whole village; Such was his dedication to the forge and the quality of his works that he was even considered one of the greatest smiths in all Greece.
All those afternoons spent in the smithery. After her chores were done, she would join her brother in their talks, while the men worked. There she would listen to all those marvelous tales and myths about the Gods. The all- mighty Zeus, God of the Gods. The devious Ares, God of war. The cunning Athena. The ruthless Hades, lord of the Underworld...
Of Hephaestus, God of the forge. As ill-tempered as the blazing fire but as righteous and cold as the steel.
But most of all, she wouldn´t get her eyes off _him_...
There was something about the man; something that made her smile whenever he was around. Perhaps it was the deep hazel eyes, his funny laugh or his kind, generous spirit. Whatever the reason was, Sophitia couldn´t help feeling attracted to the blacksmith.
As the warmth grew beneath her chest, also did the insecurities in her. What could she offer him?. She had heard of the women Rothion pretended during his talks with her brother. She also knew them. Gorgeous, intelligent women. What was she compared to them?.
Why would the smith even notice her, as older as he was?. She was just a girl. Even if she got past her shyness to actually tell him about her feelings, what if he didn´t share them?. What if he saw her only as a friend, or even _worse_, if he saw her as a small sister?.
The horrible fear of rejection kept her at bay. She would have to keep all those feelings to herself. It didn´t matter, though, because as while she could be close to him, she would be happy. Happy even if she couldn´t have him.
When Hephaestus´s priests came to the village to notify her parents of her summoning as the next of the God´s chosen, Rothion interceded in her behalf and claimed that he would forge the weapons for her. It was his right, after all. Whenever the God of the forge designated a chosen, a contest would start among fellow blacksmiths to decide who would forge the weapons for the warrior; the winner would not only be endowed with the title of the God´s appointed blacksmith but would get to work with divine ore coming from the Eurydice shrine itself. Such was the honor to serve Hephaestus and such was the privilege to work with the sacred iron that the contest was indeed needed.
Rothion needed no contest to be endowed with such title as the priests considered that his reputation not only exceded him, but most of all, were convinced by the fact that he was already _there_.
Supplied with the sacred iron, the man worked in the smithery for days; The wait was well worth it as he ended up forging a wonderful set of weapons: The Omega sword and the Elk shield. They would not only serve her to destroy the evil blades but to guide and protect her during her journey.
Only the Gods knew what the Soul Edge had done with them.
"So did you."
Sophitia couldn´t find the strength to stand up from the mud. She was too tired for it. What was the use in it anyways?. What for?. All the memories that gave her strength before now backfired, as she couldn´t help mourning for what she had lost. For all the friends dead. For the family she would never see again. For all those feelings untold.
What was the use in living if the only thing she had left was her suffering?. The Gods had taken her reasons to fight for, if not her reasons to live for.
"What are you waiting for?." The sentinel asked aloud. "I´m your enemy. Aren´t you supposed to destroy me?."
Soul Edge looked at the beaten, broken woman before it. "An enemy?. The Gods have clearly forsaken you. What threat you pose to me?."
"I´m still a warrior of Hephaestus."
"So were the ones who came before you." The evil sword countered. "And they ended up dead or forsaken as well."
"Or perhaps you thought that I was referring to His damn order as my enemies." It continued. "Do think Hephaestus chose as many mortals as He did because He had faith in them?..."
"...Or because He knew they would surely _fail_?."
She didn´t flinch at the sword´s words. Somehow she had always known it. She didn´t mind dying for the God if that meant that her loved ones would be safe.
"That doesn´t change anything!." She yelled at it. "You live to kill! Kill me!."
...
"Do you find me disgusting or something, monster?!" Her voice became full of anger. "That has never stopped you before! Now, kill me!."
The blazing orbs lit again, revealing the hint of the growing madness behind them. Finding the strength she needed in her hate and indignation, she found a small rock near her and tossed it at the blade.
The projectile flew through the air only to bounce harmlessly off the sword.
"You loved them, didn´t you?." The soft, cold voice.
The red orbs stared at the baleful eye again. "Yes."
"How much?."
"I would have died for them." It was truth.
"Really?." Soul Edge asked. "Wouldn´t you kill for them?."
Her eyes widened.
"Wouldn´t you kill for them, if that meant bringing them back?."
"How?." The response left her at the same time she thought it.
"The weight of death is heavy but not immovable." The evil sword answered. "As long as the soul, the essence perdures, nothing is truly lost."
...
"With the proper rituals and procedures, resurrection is only a mere step away."
Soul Edge offered it´s would-be wielders what they wanted, not what they _needed_.
The carnages. The horrors. The devastation. She had seen with her own eyes the remains of those villages and towns consumed by the Soul Edge´s unsatiable hunger. Would she become the wielder of the fiendish sword?. Would she trade life for life with the evil blade?. Would others have to die because of her wishes?.
No. They would not. She had seen enough of the insanity; Of those wicked wielders, slaves to the will of the infernal artifact, bringing death and ruin beyond compare. She would not become part of that madness.
It had taken everything away from her. She would not give it that _pleasure_. "If you are asking me to-
"Spare the weak if you want. Spare the innocent, I don´t care." The infernal weapon interrupted her. "It´s not them who I seek...
"I want you to shatter my enemies the same way you did with my counterpart."
...
"See how merciful I am?." The audible smile in its voice. "How many mortals gets second chances like this?."
A second chance.
A chance to set things right, to regain what she had lost.
For tempting it was, she dismissed the thought. Soul Edge was not offering her a second chance, but a _damnation_.
"Mercy?." She sneered at it. "Forget it monster, I will not become another of your puppets."
"Actually, it is of little consequence whether you come or not." It countered. "I will always find someone else who will."
Pondering over its words, she finally understood.
It was happening _again_.
In some way, the God of the forge was no better than the evil sword, because it is was of little consequence whether she succeded in her mission or not for there would be always someone _else_ who would be forced to do it.
When she was chosen as Hephaestus´s sentinel, nobody asked her if she wanted to. She never had a choice in the matter, because for the God and the priests her opinion was completely irrelevant. It always was.
From one day to another, the only priority Sophitia would have in her life would be to ensure the destruction of the infernal artifacts, regardless of the cost. But for the girl, the priorities changed as she changed during her journeys. The trials and tribulations she faced had hardened her character: she would no longer fight just to return home, she would fight to spare her loved ones from the horrors she had seen. Even if her shield carried the insignia of the God, she knew she did it only for her family.
Once again, her opinion was irrelevant.
Their faces. Their smiles.
They had given everything for her, so that she could live. Why they were so stupid?!. Live?!. Live for what?!. Live to writhe in horror?!. Live to beg for death, as she did?!. She knew it. She was not worth it. She was not worth of the sacrifice.
She was not worth of their love.
It was not fair, but it was not her place to complain but to act. Soul Edge had her loved ones as ´hostages´. Whether serving a God or a demon, she would only fight for them.
Once again, she didn´t have a choice in the matter.
"How can I trust you?." The weak voice left her throat, as if resigned.
"You can´t." Soul Edge answered. "But those who have nothing should have _nothing_ to fear."
Her hands twitched in reply. There would no salvation for her, but there could still be a chance for them.
A chance. To see her loved ones safe. To see them happy. To see them _alive_. Again.
For this end, she would sell her body, mind and soul to very monster who killed them in the first place...
...And she would be glad for it.
////////////
The column of light stretched out to the skies, illuminating the night sky with its glow. The phenomenon would only last for a few seconds before fading into the darkness. Some witnesses would be terrified of it, others would watch in awe. While those of different faiths would consider it a miracle of their Gods, more open minds would try to get a scientific explanation for it.
But most of them would be completely ignorant of it´s meaning.
Of the ruins only a smoldering crater remained, the column devastating everything in its range, the burning light consuming even the fleeting storm clouds. The smoke would dissapate into the air and the dust would finally settle, revealing a figure before the moonlight.
Something. Someone.
Someone had survived the blast. Someone had been spared of the glowing blaze.
Soul Edge had changed, its massive form reverting into a small, thick sword. The baleful eye would stare at the nothingness, in expectation; The blade as black as its intentions.
The moment the girl became Hephaestus´s warrior, she was full of fear.
The moment the sentnel drove the Omega Sword into the eye of one of the infernal artifacts, her eyes had glittered with hope.
The moment Sophitia Alexandra looked the reflection of her face in the remaining evil blade, she was with neither them.
To be continued...
Author Notes:
Before anybody says anything, I already know that Lucius is Sophitia´s _younger_ brother, what I did, I did only because of a Plot purpose. I don´t think it´s actually relevant, anyways. About Rothion being older than her, well, I think he looked older in Sophitia´s SC ending.
I rewrote this because it´s way closer to what I had in mind than the first time I posted this crap, I wouldn´t write it if writing wasn´t as funny as it is.
Actually, these two chapters are in fact, only a prologue. Others characters will show up from now on.
About my decision of making Sophie a villain, I think that given the right circumstances, she´s a funny character to mess with. You know, if it´s not tragic, it´s not greek.
...And please, _review_. First time I posted this crap, I got a review that wasn´t even a review. It only takes you 2 sec and it really, really helps.
Until next time.
Comments?, Critics?, Death Threats?: mail me at serjzerg@hotmail.com