act i. cycle x.
His eyes opened to a flash of silver and instinct saved him as he leapt back. A sword cleaved through empty air with a whistle, the afterimage of its shining steel echoing its trajectory. The hunter inside wanted his weapons so dual swords materialized in his hands, the short bladed gladius clashing against an overhand strike.
My name is Noel Kreiss. Memory flickered like a spluttering candlelight.
A stiff-faced man in full armor and shield swung his broadsword again, bearing down on Noel with steady determination but no malice. Noel had no idea who this man was or why he was being attacked; he fought defensively as he tried to remember.
I'm the last of humanity.
A quick assessment of his surroundings revealed he was in a large chamber of ruins, half consumed by weeds. An unfamiliar starry sky loomed beyond the crumbling roof. His feet kicked up bone-dry dust and smashed brittle vegetation. The stench of years beyond count hung in the air.
I sought a miracle.
His implacable opponent continued to push him back, steel scraping steel as Noel met every thrust with a parry of his own. Noel shouted questions, demanding the who's, what's, and why's, but the mouth on that stern face yielded no answers.
So I crossed into the Unseen Realm and met the champion of the Goddess.
The broadsword moved deftly, knocking aside Noel's own and biting into the hunter's arm.
And I was tasked to save the future.
Noel gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his weapons. His sword lashed out in a feint, drawing back before the curved steel met shield, and he twisted his body to drive his short blade far in from the side.
I travelled the expanse of time with my partner and friend.
The ploy worked and his opponent relinquished his advance. If this foe would not explain himself, then Noel would subdue him and get answers that way. Grimly, Noel stepped forward, no longer on the defensive but not looking to kill, as memories continued to fill him.
We were fighting my mentor, who sought to erase Time itself.
His opponent was nonplussed by Noel's sudden advance, calmly searching for openings within the flurry of Noel's blades. Then, at a brief lull in attack, the armoured warrior sprang back and gestured. Hairs pricked on the back of Noel's neck; his eyes flicked up as thick icicles rained down.
But we fell into a trap and became separated.
His blades cleaved two and he dodged two more. The fifth sliced harmlessly through the thick fabric of his sirwal. The sixth buried deep his thigh, burning icy-hot. The crystalline shard faceted red and his head pounded.
I met him alone and he challenged me.
Noel had no time to attend to the wound as the warrior's shield lashed out horizontally, starlight dancing along its edge, sharp as a knife. Pain fuzzing the edges of his vision, Noel deflected the blow, but he stumbled under the weight of it, agony screaming up his wounded leg.
We fought.
He felt more than saw the armored warrior's sword move; grimacing, ignoring the fire pulsating through his nerves, he forced his body to dodge—but it was a trick, and pain blossomed anew in his skull as a shield smashed into his face, breaking his nose with a crunch. He gasped through the blood filling his nostrils, staggering, and a quick breeze tickled his wet face. A thin line of heat spread across his neck.
I killed him.
Noel dropped to his knees, blades clattering into the dust before disappearing into sparks. Eyes unseeing, he numbly pressed his hands to his neck, red pulsating over his fingers. His heart boomed loud in his ears. He was dying.
I killed him.
Lungs struggling for air, Noel fell forward, forehead pressed against musty stone which quickly became drenched in his blood. He was drowning in pain; his thudding heart seemed determined to pump his remaining blood through his torn throat as quickly as possible.
I killed him.
Something inside him burst; fire spread through his limbs and he could feel his skin bubbling from its heat. His body twitched, and he clutched at himself, tearing at his wounds, where the skin stretched and itched maddeningly, muscles pulling and knotting, blood searing.
And I inherited his curse.
Cool air filled his lungs and then pain was gone, as if someone had just turned off the lights and left only the darkness of healing. He shuddered, gasping for breath, slowly lifting his blood-stained but unharmed body from the ground.
The armoured warrior stared at him, the slightest hint of surprise marring his marble face.
The pain was gone, but Noel was still dazed, black tendrils weaving around his limbs like caressing lovers. He hand out a hand and a lance blazed to life in his palm.
I became ensnared by chaos and then flung into the outreaches of Time.
Dark shadows wreathed the polearm as Noel surged forward to attack his opponent; his movements were different and his purpose no longer hazy. Something else drove him. The armoured man strained against the relentless assault but his sword shattered and his shield split, and Noel, fueled by the strength of chaos as his final memories locked into place, struck the deciding blow.
His foe dropped like a stone, unconscious but not dead. Noel stared down at him, debating what to do, when the body began to glow, the light flaking into weaving pyreflies. He watched them bob through the broken roof and into the stars until nothing was left.
Noel dismissed his lance, shoulders dropping in exhaustion.
"...I met an interdimensional entity," he recalled his last memory quietly. "And so here I am."
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
"You'll lose a lot of valuable meat that way."
Hope whirled around from the small monster he was intently skinning, blood-stained hands gripping the survival knife tightly, pointing it at Noel.
Noel rubbed the back of his head, feeling the deja vu. (Guess he doesn't remember me after all.) He was disappointed that he'd have to go through the entire rigmarole of earning Hope's friendship and trust again. "Hi." He waved a hand and Mogki did the same.
The tip of the blade dipped a little. "You're…." Hope frowned, as if trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle. "You're one of Chaos." The statement was said slowly and Hope's frown deepened as if something about the sentence was incorrect.
Noel sighed. "Yeah. One of Chaos."
[Ho-po forget so quickly…] Mogki snuffled.
"Hooope!" A loud cry pierced the sky and a figure leapt from the trees, bounding to Hope's side, oblivious to Noel's presence and admiring the mutilated carcass on the ground. "Wow, nice job! You weren't kidding when you said you knew how to do this."
Noel tilted his head at the skinny, brown-haired man, clad in pale blue. A white feathered crown flickered at the man's brow—a warrior of Cosmos. Noel hadn't seen him before.
A second person, clad in black leather with a scar tracing down his forehead, loped from the trees after the first. Unlike his companion, this one had his weapon drawn and watched Noel with unblinking steel-blue eyes. The Guardian made sure to keep his stance as easy as possible—this one seemed a bit high-strung and he didn't want any misunderstandings..
"Huh?" The skinny man blinked, wondering what his two companions were staring at. "Oh, hey there."
The one in black held out his weapon, light tracing along the engraved lion on its silver blade. "Chaos," he said and his muscles tensed.
Hope suddenly stepped in front of the scarred young man, holding out an arm to stay the attack.
"Hope?" the one in blue asked. Their friend scowled.
"You… " Hope's brow crinkled. "... No… el...?" The name was a question, tentative and unsure.
Mogki crowed happily and a winsome smile tugged at Noel's lips before he even realized it. "Yeah. It's me."
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
When Noel stepped out of the portal, he was back in that ruined chamber with its starlit ceiling. It felt like he had been facing down that monstrous god for hours, but the night was still fresh.
Noel raked a hand through his hair. (A God of Discord, huh?) He really didn't know what to make of the situation, but he stood by what he had told that god: he wasn't interested in fighting a war. He just wanted to get back home.
(Yeul… Serah… are you two okay?) He touched his chest; the Heart of Chaos glowed beneath his fingers. (What has changed, now that I've inherited this…?)
"Fascinating."
Noel's head jerked up; a regal man in gold and violet descended with unearthly grace from above, an elaborate staff in hand. Noel couldn't keep the annoyed look off his face. How many more weird characters was he going to meet?
A black crown of webbed smoke wreathed the man's brow briefly before dissipating; Noel realized this was the sign of Chaos he had been informed of. (This guy is supposed to be one of my 'allies'...)
Ally or not, Noel didn't care for the detached way this man was regarding him, like a piece of valuable chattel to be taken.
"Who are you?" Noel asked coldly.
"An ally… if so willing." The man gestured with the staff; his face was like a marble mask. "You may call me Emperor."
"That's pretty presumptuous," Noel said, folding his arms over his chest.
"It's not presumptuous if it's true." The Emperor circled around him and Noel moved away. The Emperor did not smile, but his long-lashed narrow eyes glinted in amusement at Noel's discomfort. "I saw your battle against that warrior of Cosmos."
Noel glowered. That meant this Emperor guy also witnessed the power of the Heart of Chaos.
The Emperor tapped the tip of his staff against a high cheekbone. "To die yet not… why, that's a great power. I see why you were summoned to our aid."
"I'm not interested in this war."
"Indeed, who would want to fight a war that doesn't reap any benefit for the soldiers?" The Emperor lifted a hand, gesturing languidly. "Unless it were to be the chance to return home?"
"And I'm not interested in anything you have to say either. So save it."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed. "You would do well not to cross me."
Noel shot him an insincere smile. "I thought I was being polite. Sorry. Don't have a lot of experience with people."
The Emperor stared him down for a few more moments, pale nostrils flaring in contained irritation. Purple-black waves enfolded him, and he was gone.
Noel hoped that would be the end of that. But he eventually learned why the Emperor had sought an alliance: he had plans to overthrow Chaos yet lacked the power to do so. No doubt an immortal warrior would be a great opponent against a god, but Noel could not be persuaded then or any time thereafter to join forces with the despot.
The Emperor was not someone to be spurned lightly.
"Your immortality is a farce," the despot confronted him one day. "You can still feel pain and experience dying. So rather, your body isn't immortal, but your soul is."
Noel clapped slowly. "Good job. How long did it take you to figure that out?"
The sarcasm slid off the Emperor's cool demeanor. "Oh, I've been watching you for a very long time, Noel."
"And now you can watch me leave." Noel moved past him.
"I often contemplate how much fun it would be to fight you, Noel." The Emperor's liquid voice spilled his amusement even as his face remained impassive. "To just kill you, over and over again, and relish the agony you must suffer each time."
Noel bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile over his shoulder. "You're welcome to challenge me at any time, Emperor. Just remember: you can kill me as much as you want, but I only have to kill you once. Death by an ally's hands sends you straight to the Void Beyond."
The Emperor's smooth facade twitched, languid eyes sharpening like knives to carve up the Guardian.
Noel just waggled his fingers at him in a farewell wave as he walked away.
So like a spider in a web, the Emperor bided his time.
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
Bartz, Hope, and Noel were all seated on a river's bank, casting crudely made fishing poles with lures of fur and grass into the lazily singing water. The midday sun sparkled across the green water and dragonflies briefly kissed slimy rocks before darting off.
Purring in its slumber, Mogki flopped over and Noel automatically reached up to stop the moogling from rolling off his head. It was a strange thing to be relaxing like this with warriors of Cosmos, without a single care but the heat of the sun and the lack of fish biting.
Squall stood nearby; his shoulders rose in an inaudible, long-suffering sigh. "Bartz, do we really have time for this?"
"You have to take breaks like this once in a while," the mime said cheerfully, tilting his head backwards to grin at the scarred young man. "Now come on, Squall, throw in a line."
Squall threw his hands up in the air. "I'm going ahead."
"What! You can't leave yet!" Bartz bounced to his feet, hopping onto Squall's back. The younger man grunted under Bartz's slight frame, staggering backwards. The two immediately began squabbling.
Noel leaned in toward Hope. "Is this normal?"
Hope nodded in resignation. "Pretty much. They argue even when one of them is sleeping."
"And they still stick together," Noel said in admiration, watching Bartz catch Squall in a chokehold. "Must be pretty good friends."
The two continued to fish as the other two bickered. Noel wondered if they were ever going to catch anything, what with all the noise.
"I've never been fishing before," Hope said, thoughtful. "At least, I don't think so. My dad… I remembered my dad and I aren't really talking." Hope glanced at Noel. "What about your parents?"
Noel shook his head. "I never knew them."
"Oh… sorry..."
"It's okay. I didn't know them, so there's nothing to be sad about. I never asked about them either." Noel had thought it was more important to focus on the living, the ones he could hold onto, because soon, those would be gone too.
"Anyway, since my parents were gone, my grandmother raised me." It felt weird to be talking about her; he had only mentioned her in passing to Serah.
"What was she like? I mean… if you want to talk about it."
Noel's eyes grew distant, the rod slack in his hands. "She was stern. A real hardass. She expected you to work hard and honestly. She used to make me stand with buckets of rocks in the afternoon sun whenever I misbehaved.
"But when she told stories, she was like a whole different person. She was good at it too. You could almost see the things she told you, right in front of your eyes. Her storytelling was the highlight of my days. I could sit there and listen to them for hours… And her hands… they were bent with time, rough with work, but so warm. I really loved her." Noel shook his head. "But she's gone now; she died before I became of age. I wonder if she saw me now, would she be proud of me?"
"I bet she is," Hope said quietly. Mogki twittered in agreement.
Noel flashed a smile in gratitude. "Maybe."
"Then it was just you and your grandmother?"
"Well, there weren't many left in my tribe when I was born, so everyone was kind of like your family. We all took care of each other. I learned everything I know from them."
"So," Hope said, eyes solemn and reflective, "you're an embodiment of all your tribe had learned, gained, and created. Like... a living legacy for their future."
"I… never thought of it that way." The final sum of the remains of the Farseer tribe was rattling around in his skull; from how they hunted, to the dishes they cooked, to the songs they made, and the lore they passed down. "And to think… they didn't have the time to even teach me everything they knew…"
"Sorry." Hope cast his eyes downward, biting his lip. "I didn't mean to bring up sad memories."
"You get good memories with sad memories too, Hope." Noel smiled.
"But that's what makes the sad memories sad."
"And the sad memories make the happy memories happy." Noel held up a finger. "If you focus so much on the negative, you'll miss the moments that count."
Hope regarded him for a long moment with an inscrutable expression.
"What?" Noel shifted under the stare.
"You're really strong, Noel."
Noel looked away. "Not really. I couldn't save anyone."
Hope opened his mouth to reply.
"Hooooope!" Bartz's cry was desperate. "Stop chumming it up and help me! He's getting away!"
The boy sighed in irritation, handing over his rod to Noel. "I'll be back."
Noel grinned. "No, you won't. You'll be chasing Squall all over the continent."
Hope hesitated. He glanced behind him where Bartz and Squall had already disappeared up the sloping banks.
"Go." Noel cocked his head at the wake of destruction left by Hope's companions. "Or you'll lose them."
"For someone who is afraid of being alone," Hope said, "you're sure quick to get rid of me."
Noel shrugged noncommittally, pulling up his fishing line. "Don't die."
"I'll be back," Hope replied, and he ran after his friends.
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
Chaos was a dichotomy of human and monster; his visage was born from nightmares but his mind was intelligent, rational, and curious. He was the personification of the chaos that existed in all human hearts: the passion that drove mankind to do deeds both great and terrible.
He rarely interfered with his warriors; Noel wondered if he had any interest at all in this war. Chaos only spoke to Garland and through him; it was Garland who first brought Noel to Chaos' throne. It was Garland who had delivered Chaos' second summons.
"You do not fear me," Chaos had said, but he was not angry—merely curious. "I am a monster and a god and you do not fear me."
"What's there to fear?" Noel had replied. "I don't see a monster or a god."
Garland delivered a third summons.
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
The long fingers of late afternoon began to stretch over the dappled water, the lazy heat of the day burning away under the cool shadows of the ocean of sky.
Noel was lying back among the short reeds by the riverbank, flicking one of the fishing rods about in the air as Mogki chased after the dancing lure. He stifled a yawn. Several hours had passed and he wasn't sure why he was still waiting.
Faintly he could hear the pounding of feet and he tilted his head back. An upside-down view of Hope's cowlick crested the top of the slope, which was quickly followed by the rest of him, his face red with exertion.
"Whoa!" the mage exclaimed, skidding down the grass-slick embankment in his hurry, before tripping over his feet and landing on his hands and knees, almost squashing Noel's head. He peered down at the Guardian, who blinked back up at him.
"You're…" Hope tried to catch his breath. "You're still here. I thought—I thought you would've left."
"Is that why you ran back?"
Hope nodded, sitting back and dusting off his gloves. He seemed embarrassed. "So uh… catch anything while I was gone?"
Sitting up, Noel flicked the fishing rod one last time, tossing around both the lure and Mogki dangling off its end. "Just moogle."
Hope squinted at the catch over Noel's shoulder. "Hm, doesn't look fit to eat. You should throw it back."
The moogling launched itself at Hope. [Mogki heard that! Mogki's not dinner!]
Noel laughed as Hope tried to shield himself behind the Guardian from the onslaught of Mogki's tiny fists.
"My, what a lovely domestic."
An inky portal gaped wide in the air above the river. Noel pushed to his feet, lance in hand. The Emperor slid out of the gateway and Noel cursed silently to himself for not paying attention to their surroundings.
Hope stood up, Mogki cowering behind him. The boy was silent and Noel could feel the tension radiating from him.
Archly, the Emperor looked around, before settling his cold gaze on Noel. "It has been a while, hasn't it, Noel?"
"Not long enough."
"We'll have to catch up later. My business is with," and those eyes flicked over to Hope, "this warrior of Cosmos."
"M-me?" Hope took an involuntary step back, large eyes anxious.
Noel stepped in front of him, breaking the Emperor's line of sight. "I don't see why you'd have any business with him."
The Emperor waved away Noel's words with a clawed hand. "I'm a warrior of Chaos and he's a warrior of Cosmos What more do we need?" The Emperor pretended to consider something. "But then, you're a warrior of Chaos too, aren't you, Noel?"
"He's not like you!" Hope said hotly, pushing past Noel.
"Hope," Noel hissed warningly.
"No, he's not like us," the Emperor agreed. "Nor is he like you. He exists quite... differently from any of us."
Hope glared at the despot.
"Are you wondering what I'm talking about? Has he told you?" The Emperor swept his staff wide. "Have you ever wondered why this war has gone on so long?"
"That's enough." Noel grasped Hope's wrist and pulled him along, Mogki clinging in fright to the boy's back. "Come on. We're leaving before he wastes any more of our time."
"Hope, is it?" the Emperor called after them. "Would you like to know? Just why Noel is the Guardian of Chaos?"
Hope turned large eyes toward Noel. "Guardian… of Chaos?"
Noel grit his teeth, not daring to look at Hope as the boy's steps faltered a bit. "Later. We'll talk about it later."
"Why talk about it later? Why not see the proof now?" The Emperor flipped his staff, and it traced a crest in the air.
The ground beneath their feet flared with pale blue light, burning a magic circle through the grass.
But Noel was prepared for an attack; holding tightly to Hope, he threw himself to the side. Tendrils of lightning stung his legs but they managed to escape the circle before it burst into a frenzy of sparks.
Grasping his polearm, Noel pushed himself up, legs tingling from the shock. Growling, he cast about for the missing Emperor.
"Noel!" And Hope was pulling him down behind him as a relentless rain of fire blasted against the mage's magic shield.
A bolt fragmented the glyphs forming Hope's barrier and the boy staggered back against Noel. His defense wouldn't hold much longer against the Emperor's superior power. With a frustrated snarl, Noel reached past Hope, shadows of chaos spreading across the barrier and reinforcing it. He knew he was playing into the Emperor's schemes, but he had to protect Hope.
"Hope," Noel whispered harshly as he spotted the Emperor atop the embankment, a summoning glyph at his feet. "On three, I need you to move."
"Wh-what?" Hope flinched as a bolt shattered through his barrier only to be eaten by chaotic energy. Mogki squeaked. "O-okay."
The Guardian gripped the shaft of his lance. "One…" Mogki clutched tightly to Hope, whimpering. "Two…" Hope tensed as his barrier crumbled. "Three!"
Hope launched himself away as the last vestiges of his shield splintered. He landed hard in the grass as Noel shot forward through the barrier of chaos, straight into the fiery barrage. Magic flames ate through his armor, but he paid it no mind, leaping up high to bring his lance down into the Emperor's pleased face.
The tip of his weapon crashed against a shining crest. Light flared and Noel twisted away, missiles kiting him.
He landed hard on his feet, but the Emperor was there to meet him, slamming his staff into Noel's back and sending the Guardian flying. His lance fell from his fingers as he rolled to the base of the slope.
The Emperor lifted his chin, staring down scornfully down at Noel. "I win."
Noel climbed to his feet, spitting blood to the side. Wounds shined wetly through holes in his armor, but nothing too serious. "Little early to be claiming victory, don't you think?"
"There are many forms of battle, Noel."
And searing pain blossomed in Noel's back as the mines the Emperor had planted burst.
Flames boiled into his body, rupturing vessels and consuming his lungs and licking his spine. Dropping to his knees, he couldn't even scream and all he could see was white-hot agony. He collapsed, black smoke rising from his decimated back.
Explosions rocked the ground hard; Hope shouted and more explosions thundered. Under the pain a part of Noel was yelling at him to get on his feet, to protect Hope. His ruined lungs gulped for air and he bent his entire willpower just to breathe.
And then a different fire filled him, clean like the sun, and he knew it was Hope pouring all his strength into healing him.
Noel drew a shuddering breath as the healing magic granted him a minor, temporary respite. But his wounds were beyond the extent of a healer; he could feel death waiting past the curtain of curative spells. And there was still the Emperor…
"Stop…" Noel swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. Hope didn't listen; if anything, the rush of magical warmth became stronger. His Heart could do nothing while the curing spells kept death at bay.
Noel pushed himself upright with a strangled sound, knocking away Hope's hands. "Emperor..." He fell forward and Hope caught him, holding him carefully.
"Gone," Hope said, voice tight. "He said he accomplished what he came for. Now stay still."
"Don't…" Noel pressed his face against Hope's neck, the soft fabric of Hope's kerchief smothering him. His heart pounded in his ears. So the Emperor wanted Hope to witness this? His rebirth? What for?
"But you're dying!" Hope's voice hit a hysterical pitch, and if Noel hadn't been in so much pain at the moment, he would've been touched by the mage's concern.
Noel blindly lashed out, seizing Hope's hands and gripping them tight. In shock, Hope dropped his healing spells and Noel felt death swoop in. "Don't waste—" and he bit back a groan as chaotic energy seeped through his body, knitting together torn sinew and sealing over burned flesh.
"What…" Hope's eyes widened as the smoky tendrils ghosted over Noel's wounds, leaving behind unmarred skin. The Guardian's body convulsed, clutching at Hope's clothes with white-knuckled hands. Hope just pulled him closer, pressing a cheek to sweat-dampened hair.
Moments passed and Noel's laboured breathing slowed, his muscles relaxing.
"... Noel?"
Noel was reluctant to move; Hope's heart was a fluttering bird in his ear, but it had been a long time since someone had embraced him with so much care.
"Noel?" Hope shifted, looking down at him with concern. Mogki peeked over the crest of Hope's hair, pompom drooping.
"I'm fine," Noel said. "Just let me rest for a sec." And Hope was quiet, fingers absently running through the hairs at the nape of Noel's neck.
Finally Noel sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. Mogki hopped over onto his seat atop the Guardian's head, petting Noel's hair comfortingly. "I will never get used to that…" He had no idea how Caius managed, but maybe after a millennia, he could be blase about it too.
"What… happened?" Hope peered at him, tentative.
Noel smiled at him through his fingers. "I'm fine. Sorry for worrying you."
Hope frowned. He prodded the rents in Noel's armor, touching skin which had been bleeding and exposing muscle and bone before. "Are you really 'fine'?" He pulled Noel's hands from his face, eyes searching.
"Yeah." Another smile, brighter than he meant it.
"You nearly died," Hope persisted. "Does this… have something to do with being the 'Guardian of Chaos?'"
Noel sighed, staring off into the distance. "You once asked me how someone like me was on the side of Chaos. Do you remember?"
"Yeah… but what does—"
"I wasn't summoned by Chaos. I was brought to Chaos because I have an advantage that none of the other warriors—on either side—have." Grasping Hope's hand, he pressed the fingertips against his chest and the Heart of Chaos glowed faintly in response. "I can't die."
Hope's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. I'm immortal." Noel smiled faintly. "So you don't have to worry about me. This body can feel pain and I can experience dying, but I can't actually be killed."
Hope was silent; Noel could almost imagine the gears turning inside Hope's skull as he processed this information. Shaking his head in amusement, Noel stood up, helping Hope do the same. "We should get going. Your companions are probably worried about you. And the Emperor might still be lurking around. Dying once a day is my limit."
"Noel." Hope grabbed his arm. "If you can't die… that means Cosmos can't win."
(So that's what the Emperor wanted Hope to know…) But there was no use denying it.
"Exactly." A droll expression made Noel look older than he was. "You got it right on the nose. That's why I was brought here. If you can't defeat all the warriors on a side, then you have to destroy the deity. And Chaos is far too strong. So there it is. Your unwinnable war."
Hope jerked away, glaring at Noel accusingly. "And you're just letting that happen?"
"What do you expect me to do? Wipe out the warriors on Chaos' side? I'll still be here and I'll still be one of Chaos. Fight Chaos? I'm immortal, not omnipotent."
"Then switch sides!"
"It doesn't work that—"
"Then make it work that way!" Hope shouted, vehement. Mogki squeaked in surprise at the sudden outburst. "You're not like them! So why don't you fight against it? Why are you just accepting your fate like that?"
Noel scowled. "I don't need you lecturing me on changing destiny. It's not all that simple as good and evil. Everyone has a reason they're fighting."
"And you?" Hope folded his arms over his chest, brows low over gleaming eyes. "What's your reason?"
"I have people I want to save."
"Even if means killing me?" Hope shot back. "Or Kain? Or the Onion Knight? Or Bartz and Squall? Aren't we friends?"
"Hope, look—"
"I'm leaving." Hope turned away.
Noel sighed in exasperation but it wasn't worth arguing over. "Don't die, Hope."
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
Chaos' curiosity extended to everything, but he most favored philosophy and the nature of humans.
Noel wasn't educated—he could barely read—and introspective thoughts weren't his forte. He was a man of action more than thoughts, preferring proof to theory.
But the long conferences he held with Chaos forced him to contemplation, as the god struggled to understand his own existence.
Chaos had been created, Noel learned, a weapon to be used mindlessly. But Chaos had gained self-awareness and reason; Noel believed that the chaos within the god had granted him the same volition and passion it granted every human child at birth. So while Chaos was treated as thing, he struggled with an identity as a person of intelligence.
Noel pitied him and his loneliness; it was different from his own, but it was loneliness nonetheless. All the other warriors scorned the god, or feared him, or ignored him, or deferred to him, but only Noel treated him as he would a comrade.
"I desire a tale," Chaos would say, and Noel would smile and tell him a story. He had many of them, handed down from his grandmother. And afterwards Chaos would contemplate the nature of these simple stories, in ways Noel never considered.
"I have only desire," Chaos mused one day after Noel finished his account of how he had crossed into the Unseen Realm. "I know not of hope."
A million words clammed up at the back of Noel's throat. How could he explain such a thing? He pushed hair from his face, wishing he had a gift for oration, like the Hope of the future. "Maybe one day," he slowly began, "I can show it to you." Yes, he was better suited to action. The proof was better than the theory.
Chaos considered this. "I feel, Guardian, were I even to recognize it, that it is something not meant for one such as I."
"Everyone has the right to hope," Noel disagreed. "Hope has always been the legacy of chaos. It's part of us."
The god rested his cheek on a giant palm, grimly amused. "I desire to see this. Yes, show it to me one day. Perhaps if I were to hold it, I too can have hope."
And Noel decided then that while he would not fight in this war, he could not abandon Chaos to its cruel conclusion.
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
When they met again, it was once more by accident. Noel had been stalking a behemoth's trail across a plain before the sky suddenly opened up and dropped buckets of water onto sun-bleached grass.
He darted across the open expanse with Mogki tucked under his chin, and soon he spotted the shadow of a wide-branched foliage-laden tree at the crest of a small hill. But as he approached, there were already others under it—and he wasn't terribly surprised to see Hope, huddled beside Bartz and Squall. They were always pulled together, after all.
Hope wasn't all that surprised either, but he didn't meet Noel's eyes. Bartz greeted him enthusiastically, Squall less so. Noel knew that the scarred man distrusted him and didn't flinch when a gunblade flashed into life loosely in Squall's fist in quiet warning.
Pushing dripping hair from his eyes, Noel nodded at the trio—they looked like they had escaped the torrent before it hit—and circled around to the opposite side of the large tree. The broad spread of branches kept most of the rain out, the grass at its roots dry. With a silent sigh, Noel flopped back against the wide trunk, legs drawn up. He was drenched, but the weather was warm and slightly breezy and not unpleasant. Crawling out onto Noel's knee, Mogki shook off water, fur puffing out.
"Hey, Noel, come si—" Bartz's request was muffled by Squall's hand slapped over his mouth. Squall whispered something to the mime and then there was only the sound of rain.
Noel stared out at the curtain of water, hypersensitive to the fact that three other people—people he liked, in varying degrees—shared the tree with him, yet they treated him like a stranger. It was a kind of isolation that was worse than true loneliness—people within reach but wanted nothing to do with him. He hoped the rain would lessen soon. He didn't know how much longer he could stand it.
And then, as if the sky was listening, the downpour softened to a spitting drizzle just as suddenly as it started. Bartz jumped up with a shout—sitting still that long must've taken some massive willpower—and leapt into the nearest mud puddle. "Let's go!"
Squall's stance as he stood spoke enormous volumes of what he felt at that moment.
Noel rested a chin on a palm, watching over his shoulder as Hope tugged on Squall's jacket and murmured something. The scarred young man raised a brow, glancing at Noel and frowning when he saw they were being watched back. "You sure?"
Hope nodded.
Hesitating only for a moment, Squall just shrugged and, pulling his jacket over his shaggy head, strode after the laughing Bartz. The mime waved at Hope, mouthing something with exaggerated slowness. Hope watched them go, the line of his back rigid.
(I wonder if he wants to scold me again.) The corners of Noel's mouth curled wryly at the thought, but he assumed a neutral expression when Hope approached.
[Ho-po?] Mogki nearly fell off Noel's knee as it craned back to stare up at the boy. [Is Ho-po mad at us?]
With a deep breath, Hope suddenly sat down beside Noel, their shoulders bumping. "It's still raining a little and I don't want to get wet." He reached over and pulled Mogki into his lap, tugging off the kerchief about his neck to dry the moogling's damp fur.
"Of course." Noel watched him briskly rub down Mogki.
Hope slowed and stilled. "Noel, I—" he cut himself off, gritting his teeth in frustration. Mogki chirped questioningly.
"This was a lot easier when I was talking it over with Bartz," Hope muttered, staring helplessly at the moogling.
Noel raised a brow. "You told Bartz?"
"Not—not about … what you are…" Fingers absently smoothed Mogki's fur. "Just that we had a fight."
"And that it bothered you."
"The fight didn't bother me," Hope snapped, glaring at Noel with sudden heat. "Because I'm right. What bothered me was that you..." He sighed. His face was worn, and Noel realized that this was an expression Hope would carry for the rest of his life. The adult Noel had met was a person with a nurturing heart, who believed in an all-or-nothing form of salvation. Hope had only two arms but he wanted to nestle the entire world within them.
Was this the beginning of that same ambition? To let no one be left behind? Or was it always there, buried under fear and feelings of inadequacy?
"You're not like them, Noel. Those other warriors of Chaos."
"So?"
"So stay with us." Hope rested a hand on his arm, turning toward him in eagerness. "We can go to Cosmos, find a way—"
"Hope, this is the way I've chosen."
A frustrated sound escaped Hope's throat. "I just don't understand why. You're not a megalomaniac or conniving or a bad person or anything that says you should be on Chaos' side."
"I'm flattered you think I'm a decent human being," Noel couldn't help but tease.
"I'm serious," Hope said, glaring.
"I know. You usually are."
Defeated, small hands half-heartedly swiped the kerchief over Mogki's head a few more times before falling uselessly into his lap.
"Hope, how much do you remember about our homeworld?"
"Not much," Hope mumbled. "Just that there's my world, Cocoon, and the land below, Pulse, and that Pulse sent up a fal'Cie that cursed some of us to destroy Cocoon. And that all of Cocoon is hunting us Pulse l'Cie…"
"I'm from Gran Pulse, you know."
Hope's head shot up in shock, green eyes wide. "You're…?"
"Although," Noel's face was lined with sadness, "it doesn't really matter that far in the future. But the reason I'm bringing this up—do you know the Goddess Etro?"
Hope shook his head.
Noel smiled faintly at him. "She's a goddess of death. My tribe worshipped her, but no other clan did. They feared her. She was the cause of their sorrow, she brought about their troubles. Even legends painted her in a dark light.
"Hope, there's two sides to everything, even within the same person. I made the choice not to actively aid Chaos. But I also made the choice to stay beside him."
"That's what I don't get. He's evil!"
"Have you met him? How do you know he's evil? What does evil even mean?"
"Well, I—"
"Because he stands opposite a goddess clothed in white? Did you ever think about the Goddess, who ruthlessly sends her warriors to be defeated and killed without any plan? That she doesn't hesitate to send her chosen out, defenseless, knowing that this is a war she's never meant to win? Wouldn't that be considered 'evil' too? By what measure can you judge evil?"
Hope was silent, jaw clenched.
Noel sighed. "You don't have to understand my reasons."
"So you're just… going to sacrifice everyone else?"
"I'm not like you, Hope. I grew up with so much death that I found it easier to just hold onto what's in front of me and focus on the now. No one deserves to die—good or bad—but not everyone can be saved. If you hold onto the world, you'll lose what's in front of you."
"But what's in front of you is a part of the world too. If you look past them, you can see that."
"I only have two eyes and two arms, Hope."
"Four of each, if you remember that there's someone right beside you."
Noel blinked. Someone beside him? He had spent so many cycles of this world alone that he had forgotten what it was like to stand beside another person. Hope's clear pale eyes were fierce and a memory flashed across the Guardian's mind: another set of pale eyes, with a same determination, and though he hadn't known her for long, he had entrusted his life to her.
Serah… how long ago was that? He missed her terribly, a sudden longing for her voice filling him. He had forgotten it. Time hadn't moved forward for her as he remained trapped in this place lost from Time; if—(when, definitely when)—they met again, their separation may have just been a few hours for her, even if it was years for him. How much would he have changed by then? (How much have I changed even now?)
And now there was Hope, a Hope of the past, different but akin to the one Noel met in the future. Standing together with Hope…
If he was honest with himself, this was something Noel wanted since Hope had first appeared in this place. Noel, who hated loneliness, sought the company of the various warriors he encountered, but there was no one he felt he could stand in solidarity with, not until—
Noel shook his head at his own thoughts. "So, you think with our four eyes and four arms, we can save everyone?"
"Well, Mogki makes it six of each." The moogling kupo'd in agreement. "Bartz and Squall make ten, and Onion will bring it to twelve. Kain's fourteen and—"
Noel held up his hands in defeat. "I get it, I get it, you smartass." He chuckled, cupping the back of Hope's neck and leaning over to press their foreheads together, closing his eyes with a faint smile. Hope inhaled sharply. "You sure like winning your arguments."
"I'm serious," Hope whispered.
"I know." And that was why Noel could believe in Hope's idealism, even if just for a little while.
"Kupo?" Mogki poked up his head between them and Hope jerked away, face a brilliant scarlet. He coughed, grabbing Mogki and fussing over the moogling's matted fur.
Noel hummed, resting more comfortably against the tree trunk and watching the misty veil of rain roll over the grassland. He liked rain—it didn't exist in his time. He had first witnessed it at Bresha Ruins with Serah in that other dream, and even with everything going on then, he would always remember that first feel of water hitting his skin and soaking his clothes.
Water dripped from leaves; Noel lifted his face and one splattered onto his cheek, lukewarm. He wondered if Squall was still chasing Bartz through the drizzle and he smiled at the thought. A few minutes later, Hope settled closer against him, warmth from his small body bleeding through Noel's damp armor. Mogki dozed peacefully in the boy's lap, nose twitching.
"Can I ask you something?" Hope said quietly. "About your immortality…"
"Go ahead."
"How did you—I mean, were you born with it? Or was it something that… happened?"
Noel rested an arm on an upraised knee, toying with a string of beads in his hair. "I killed a man and inherited his curse. I was born to do exactly that and that's exactly what ended up happening."
"But… you must've had an important reason."
"Why?"
"You wouldn't kill someone unless there was an important reason. I know that much about you."
Noel was silent.
"Noel?"
"It was something I had to do."
Hope absently ran his fingers over Mogki's silky ears, thoughtful. "Something you had to do…" He shifted comfortably against Noel, fine hairs tickling the Guardian's cheek. "Noel, I'll find a way to stop this war and save everyone, even the ones you want to save. I promise."
The conviction in his voice suddenly brought to Noel's mind the memory of a grown Hope, face turned to the sky and the Cocoon he would protect. It seemed so long ago—it probably was long ago—but the conviction rang the same.
Noel nodded once in acknowledgement. The rain thickened, slipped through the leaves. He wrapped an arm around Hope, cradling the boy's head against him to shield him from the falling water.
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
"What are you doing here?"
Noel opened an eye and raised a brow at Cloud. He had been dozing in a cushioned seat upon the Phantom Train, letting it take him wherever it felt like. "Am I not allowed to be here?"
"I meant…" and the blond frowned. "I thought you'd be after the Emperor."
Making a face, Noel slouched lower into his seat. "I've had enough of that guy for a million years. Why would I want to willingly look for him?"
"Is this why Kuja said I should find you…?" Cloud murmured to himself, lowering his chin in thought.
Noel burrowed down deeper into his seat, closing his eyes. He knew Cloud would eventually get to the point, but he wanted to get back to his nap. "So what does Kuja have to do with why I should be looking for the Emperor?"
"The Emperor is out hunting."
Noel shot up. "What?"
"I think… you better find that kid of yours."
But Noel was already sprinting for the door.
+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+
He arrived too late.
The Onion Knight and Hope lay face down upon the ground, bearing the wounds of a harsh battle. The Emperor stood over Hope, his staff raised high, its sharp tip pointed down between the boy's shoulder blades.
Noel moved without thinking, chaos surging into his limbs. He hurled his lance with deadly force at the Emperor, speeding after it. The Emperor sensed the projectile and knocked it away, only to leave himself wide open for Noel to drive a crackling bolt of chaotic energy into his midsection.
With a sharp cry, the Emperor teleported away, hovering in the air and clutching his stomach with an arm. Even in pain, he managed to school his face into a shaky version of his marble mask. "A bit tardy, Noel," he chided. "And after all the trouble of making sure you'd find out what I was planning."
Mogki was inspecting the two falling warriors of Cosmos as Noel stood before them, trying to control his Heart under the waves of anger washing over him.
[Noel, they're not dead!]
"Just defeated then." Noel took a shuddering breath, pressing a hand to his chest to still the chaos within. Dying didn't necessarily mean failing purification, but it lowered the chance of success; the more energy expended to recover, the lower the chance of survival. Noel wasn't sure how well Hope would fare and he didn't want to take the risk in finding out.
"Indeed, you did arrive just in time to ruin my fun." Finally mastering himself, the Emperor straightened, cool once more. "So do not fret, Noel. He'll return to you in the next cycle."
Next cycle, next cycle. And how many next cycles would there be? Would the Emperor continue to haunt his steps—Hope's steps—every time?
(Could I even protect him every time?)
His hand clenched against his chest; his Heart flickered once in response. His eyes met with the Emperor's and they locked, neither willing to give.
Tendrils of chaos formed a spiraling stair, twisting around the floating Emperor. Noel slowly ascended the steps as the Emperor watched, apathetic.
"Don't feel like fighting? Truly disappointing. I had hoped to see those powers you are so reluctant to utilize."
Noel followed the stair to the emperor, stopping until he was level with the despot. "Fighting you is meaningless and killing you would be a mercy."
The emperor's languid eyes trailed after Noel as the Guardian circled around him.
"People like you only know how to take. You'll take and take and take and clutch it close. And after you have everything your heart has ever desired—power, wealth, dominion—you'll begin to take from yourself, carving out pieces until you're hollow inside, because your ambition will never allow you to be satisfied. And then you'll die: alone, empty, meaningless, and, most importantly, forgotten. Everything you've gathered will avail you not and you'll be like everyone else when confronted by their own mortality: small, weak, impotent.
"So killing you now is a mercy. Keep your life until that bitter end."
The Emperor barked a short laugh. "A pretty speech from the weak. I've heard it before. Allow me to whisper you a little secret." He inclined his head magnanimously, lips touched by a sardonic line. "I enjoy the way I am."
Noel mirrored the Emperor's smile. "When you're at Etro's door, Emperor, breathing your last, I'll be there to remind you of your words."
A muscle in the Emperor's cheek jumped. "Boring until the end, Noel. That boy spoke truly: you aren't like us." He tossed his head in dismissal. "I'm finished with you." With that, he soared up out of the ring of chaos, a black gate enveloping him and spiriting him away.
Noel's face was blank as the inky stair beneath him dissipated; he dropped gracefully to the earth.
The prone forms of Hope and the Onion Knight were already shedding their light as he approached; Mogki sniffled as it nudged Hope's body to no avail. Noel watched the pyreflies flit into the deepening sky. A pale green wisp brushed his cheek, like a sweet breath murmuring promises. He tried to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers, fading away.
More modifying of Dissidia's "rules" to suit my needs.
My apologies to the Emperor.
Thank you, JapanManiac, for taking the time to review. As always, commentary is welcome, and thank you for reading.