Insaneiac: Sorry BTS fans, it'll have to wait just a little bit longer. I'm with writers block on the epic right now and writing it is beginning to bring out bad feelings. So I will update Twilight now, and let you all see the handy dandy cast of villains in this one. Also, heads up voters. You've one more chapter after this before pairing number one (Other than Yuan/Raine) is decided.
Spiritua Masquerade: Sheelos, everyone. :D Nah, go ahead and pick what you want. Either way, this story is waaaay better than I could ever do. Even though the first time I read the first part of this chapter, it confused the bajeezus out of me. That just goes to show how simple my mind is, I guess. :D Anyways, read, review, enjoy! I know I will.
Disclaimer: I don't own this game, Namco does. The characters belong to them…well most of them anyways.
Chapter Three: The Testaments
"So then…all went as it should."
The room was, for the most part, a blackness of eternal depth. Watching it from the outside could very well make one sick, as even though it was pure blackness, it swirled and twisted like a mass of creatures. In the very center of the dome of darkness was a pale light that seemed to fill an impossible amount of space with its cold light. Around the light, just along what is a wall of infinite blackness stood eight masked figures. They stood in a very lightly spaced circle except for one gap that seemed large enough to fit another figure. To the right of the gap was the one that had uttered the words, a figure whose form is of pure black that flickered and twisted off his figure. Lifting his head up to the rest of the figures, the completely cloaked face turned to the man figure beside him. His shadowed eyes met nothing more than a half nod from the masked man to his left and past the gap. Turning back his head to the central light that floated above them, the black one raised his hand towards the light and flicked his fingers at it. The light created a globe in the center of the group that was exactly that of Aselia, albeit slowly shifting and changing as it hovered there.
"Then Kharlan has fused with Aselia once more. The Tree is at its fullest health…and soon the Lance will pierce into the sky."
"Of course it will, Death. As it has every other time." A new voice spoke. Faces turned to the speaker, a man wearing a mask that flashed yellow and white before seemingly turning invisible again. Of course, when the mask turned invisible, so did everything behind it. It was unsettling to say the least. He wore what seemed to be tinted blue and studded leather around his upper torso, just cutting off passed his shoulders. His arms and for arms were wrapped tightly in belts of storm cloud grey, and his hands were covered by metallic gauntlets with claw like fingertips. Underneath his studded leather was a navy blue and sleeveless cloak that descended to just above his boots. The hood was drawn upon it, covering his hair and fully covering his body from the eyes of his partners. On his back is a long wooden staff with a despicable hook at the end that nearly curves full circle, with a floating red sphere in the center of the hook. The red sphere is attached to the inside of the blade via streams of constant electricity.
"After all, Death, what is this but a repeat? The world has reached its final moments…is that not right, Time?"
"Pain, as usual, states a fact that is already well known by all here. Obviously, dying did not dull your ability to point out the obvious." The figure called Time spoke. The current speaker is a figure garbed in a green cloak that fits loosely to his body. Metal guards cover his forearms and leather gloves with metal plates on the back of them covered his hands. Around his waist and neck were straps of leather that had streams of green cloth descending from them. At the cuff of each arm of the cloak are three streamers of emerald cloth that run to the back of his neck, and down from that point at quite a few more that stretch out past his feet. On the back of his gloves are glowing clocks that continuously count time. Floating closely behind him are twelve double tipped lances, six to the right of his neck, six to the left. Upon his head he wears the ornate head piece that seemed worthy of the highest bishops of churches wore, with a curtain of cloth covering the rest of his head except for his face. On his face is a mask that has the hands of time on them, ever constantly moving to match the flow of time.
"Aren't you precious, Time. Making your snippy little arrogant statements. If I am still pointing out the obvious, you are still the arrogant fool." Pain replied with a curve to his words.
"Children, behave yourselves." A woman spoke.
"Humph…whatever, Blood." Pain responded, waving his hand dismissively.
The woman stood on the opposite end of the dome from Death. The one called Blood was garbed in a noble sleeveless dress of a pale hue of red with white trim that covered her from the neck down. On the center of the dress was a large patch of gentle blue, with a snow white rose in the center of it. On closer inspection, the rose appeared to be bleeding from its petals. She wore a cape of blood red around her neck that seemed to be attached to her, with a half cloak of dark red with silver lines running from the neck to the edges covering her upper body just above the bleeding rose. On her hands, all the way to just past her elbows, she wore leather gloves of half red and half white, splitting colors as they ran up the arms. With the hood on her half cloak drawn so as to cover her head, her mask was a full face masquerade style mask of white with streams of ever flowing red pouring from the hollowed in eyes. The actual eye holes had no eyes filling them, and seemed to just go on forever into the mask. Although retracted, on her wrists were guards that housed her curved blades.
"Be good little children for Death and Destruction…after all, so much must still be done. We have to find the voice, body and wings."
"The ether speaks and beckons, yet nothing new revealed. I hear her voice pleading to us with only the commands of events past. Yet within the sad song of this world is no news of our patron saint." Chaos spoke, standing to the right of Blood. "So many voices, so many commands, so little guidance."
"Don't cry, Chaos." A deeper, sympathetic voice spoke from the immediate left of Pain and the right of Death.
The male that spoke was something akin to what people call the "Black Knight." A true testament to the legacy of iron clad warriors of demonic design. He towered over all the rest of the Testaments, even Death. His armor is of black hue and heavily plated, dark blue trim around every plate. His gauntlets have curved spikes that trail up to his elbows, and from the neck of his helmet he has a half circle of black cloth that covers his upper back. The plates of armor that adorn his shoulders extend only slightly out at the end, and have pulsing red symbols of an axe and a sword. His helmet is something out of mythology, with eight twisted horns curving in towards the face of the helm from the sides of the helmet, four on each side. Two eye slots are all that exist in so far as openings, and within them are white eyes that pierce the soul. On his back was a sword with a blade that stretched well over seven feet in length. Lines of pulsing violet and navy blue were scattered from the hilt of the blade down to its massive forked tip.
"I see even War is caring." Pain quipped, flinching as the helmeted head focused on him. Pain waited as War crossed his arms in front of him. The two stared at each other for only a few seconds before Pain made a motion with his hands and conceded defeat.
"You just have no sense of heart, Pain. Nothing nice makes sense to you because you are such a little man." A teenaged female voice spoke to the right of Time. "After all, you're Pain. You don't know what happiness is."
The collective turned to look at the new speaker, and although she was still average human size, she was the smallest one of the group. She a dress that was of maroon, with four silver buttons in the center of it and two bronze lines ran down from its neck to the waist, just the same as it did on her back. Her sleeves were dark blue in hue and cut off just above the elbows. Her forearms were wrapped in strips of deep red cloth that dangled off at the sides. Like most of the others, she wore a pair of gloves as well, these being simple dark blue gloves. From the waist down she wears deep blue slacks that, while not skin tight, do not look loose in the slightest. She wears a half cloak, only covering the upper section of her upper body with no cape to cover her back and with a hood that is drawn over her head. Her mask is the mask of tragedy, with a deep frown worn upon it and a single blue tear drop at the corner of the left eye, the eyes themselves looking depressed and sorrow filled. Gripped tightly in her hands is a long spear with a blade in the shape of an open hand.
"Ah, Sorrow, so you can speak. I guess one truly does learn something new every day." Pain quipped, his mask flashing into existence once before turning invisible again.
"Enough!" The final voice spoke, drawing all attention to him. It was the figure to the right of Sorrow, and the figure to the left of the gap. He is adorned in a brilliant, endlessly white vest that looks thin and thick at the same time, betraying all to it. On the vest are silver symbols and letters in numerous languages that shift in and out of focus, confusing those who fight him. Even though they blend within his vest in a camouflage nature, every letter is capable of being seen. His long, sticklike arms are wrapped meticulously in bandages of pure white, with black lines that travel down the length of each bandage, forming weird symbols and letters in multiple languages that form a series of sentences stating unknown things. A pair of traditional warrior slacks adorned his lower half, retaining the brilliant white as well as the black letters and symbols from his arms. He wore a cloak of slightly less brilliant white that remained open to show off his size and scholar like stature. Finally, the cloak has its hood drawn at all times, and he wears a mask of plain white with an immaculate black design of an unblinking eye in the center of the mask. On his left hand is a truly offsetting piece to him, contradicting the thinner, scholar like image. A large clawed gauntlet with an opal in the center of the palm and lines of dark red and blue connecting the opal to each finger, wrapping around each individual digit. On the back of the large gauntlet was a marking that, when translated, read out "Sanctusdeleo." Further more, floating around his right arm is a snake like wisp of smoke that curled and twisted about.
"And thus speaks the grand White Testament himself." Time uttered, turning to glance at the white figure. "Destruction."
"Chaos has brought us the grand stage for her to sing upon. For her voice to echo into the heavens. We need to find her." Destruction uttered, gripping his left hand tightly. A pulse of energy shook from the gauntlet that everyone there felt. Slowly, Destruction turned his head to Death, their masks meeting each other. "The wings, the body, the voice...Her wings, Her body, and Her voice. The Sovereign needs must be fulfilled."
"Obviously." Death grunted, holding his right arm out to his rear and into the darkness behind him. When he pulled his hand back, he held a long staff with a demonic scythe on one end and a brutal circular axe head on its other, standing as tall as he was himself. Lifting the weapon easily enough, Death pointed the scythe's tip into the globe and stopped it from changing, bringing it zooming in towards what was a now a foreign chunk of land. As it got closer and closer, the image soon became that of an utterly destroyed Meltokio city center, now housing Martel's Temple from the very center of it.
"Brings back memories…" War muttered, bringing a hand to rub it his armored chin. "Do you believe her to be the wings?"
Death said nothing as he glanced at Time and Pain before finally turning his head to face Pain alone. "Pain, find Irving. Kill him. We must keep the Eternal Sword out of this. Make sure you kill both him and Mithos."
"They are the same person, what's the difference?"
"Tenacity is always a problem…and Lloyd will be as hard to kill as a cockroach. Mithos doubly so. Go." Death finished with a commanding closure even though his words and tone stayed somber. With only a nod, Pain took three steps back and faded into the darkness. "War, go to Iselia and Palmacosta and coerce the masses. Bring us an army of followers blinded by grandeur." A nod soon followed, before Death watched War's head turned to Chaos once more, and even behind the mask he could sense a twang of worry escape the black knight. Lifting his head, War stepped backwards into the blackness and disappeared.
"Sorrow, Chaos. Hunt down her wings. Even if she herself is hiding, I have a feeling you can 'pursuade' old comrades of her to help you." Destruction muttered, not bothering to watch as the two disappeared into the blackness. "Time, go with Blood and find Origin. He'll know where the body is, I am sure of it."
"Heh…" Time muttered, glancing at Blood. "Origin is hiding just as profusely as Mana… What makes you think we can find him?"
"Follow the Summoner. Eventually she'll bring him forth or she'll bring you to him." With a pair of nods, both Blood and Time faded into the darkness, leaving the White and Black Testaments to their own.
"I know where you are going already, Death."
"Oh? Is that so, Destructi-"
A disgusted growl escaped Destruction as Death spoke, and the white cloaked man walked away from him. "I told you, I detest that name when it is only you and I." Destruction muttered before ceasing his walk. With a turn of his masked face so that he was glancing at Death, Destruction waived his gauntlet in the air, charging a white globe within it before closing his fist tightly and dispelling the energy around him. "You and I, Death…we are closer than the rest. We are closer both to the Sovereign and to each other."
"Well, Toltus…if that is what you want then so be it."
"Are you telling me you actually like having everyone call you Death? That's no name you fool, it's a title. A big one, but all the same. Tell me, Death. You know my name, why not give me yours?"
Death said nothing in reply. All he did was stand and stare at Destruction, at Toltus. Every word he said was spoken like it was silk. The delivery soft and subtle but the meaning never missing. "Why? What point is there to you knowing who I am…who I was?"
"Because loneliness is ugly. Because everyone could use friends and family…and because even though we are dead, we are still connected to our past selves."
"I have neither. I want neither!" Death replied, slicing the scythe through the translucent globe in front of him. The image waved about furiously for a few seconds before coming together once more.
"Well, then let me be something else to you, Death. After all, we have the task of reviving this world. We must do this task together, hand in hand. After all, without you or I, the Sovereign has no hands of which to change the world with." Toltus continued, turning around and striding towards the Black Testament. Raising his right hand, he rested it on the shoulder of Death, and even behind the mask there was a smile to be felt. "Let me at least be something to you."
Slowly, the black garbed hand gripped Toltus' wrist and lifted the hand off his shoulder, limply tossing it to the side. "A name then." Death spoke, pausing for a moment as though to remember his name.
"It took me a bit to remember myself. If you need the ti-"
"Kloitz. Kloitz Sage is my name." Death replied, slow and calculated but not hesitant. Even from behind the mask, the one called Kloitz felt a frown grow on Toltus' face. "And is that not good enough for you, Toltus?"
"You remind me of him…back when he would call me friend." Kloitz paused and even half tilted his head in confusion. Even before he could say anything, Toltus patted the left side of Kloitz cloaked and masked face with his right hand before walking past him and towards the darkness. "It means nothing now. I assume you will be going to Martel's Temple then…for her voice."
"And what about you, Toltus LaFillick?" Kloitz responded dryly, not bother to glance at the figure as he approached the shadows. "Where are you to?"
Toltus paused at the edge for a moment, sliding his hand into the inky blackness and swirling it about before pulling it out and glancing at his hand. "To…see an old friend…and bury the hatchet." With that, Toltus LaFillick, the White Testament of Destruction, slid into the blackness and faded away, and the one called Death was left alone within the cold light that shone in the middle of the abyss. Raising his free hand up to the light, he slowly began to suffocate its life as he closed his hand around it, bringing the blackness upon himself.
"Kloitz…I never thought I'd ever use that name…" Closing his left hand tightly and extinguishing the life from the fire completely, Death sighed once more. "It matters not. What truly matters is bringing the Sovereign to us. For that, I need no one and no thing…only this power."
------ ??? ------
A sharp breath and a roar of pain came hand in hand as Kratos shot out of his bed and into reality again. Almost instantly the door was swung open to reveal Raziel, albeit without his high angelic attire, and a pair of other angels in considerably normal attire as well. All eyes were upon the Seraph and his eyes were swapping between Raziel and the two others. Tension as thick as bricks filled the room as the two parties kept their eyes on the other before Raziel finally stepped forward and sat down in the chair beside Kratos' bed. Glancing towards the remaining two angels, Raziel whisked them away with a motion from his hand. Soon the only bodies in the room were himself and Kratos. Growling in pain, Kratos laid back down on the bed and gently explored his ribs with his hand. There were ribs there now, but every thing he could do or even think hurt him quite a bit.
"What…the hell…happened?" Kratos muttered slowly. Mentally, he noted that talking hurt too.
"Derris-Kharlan crashed into Aselia. The impact killed and scattered over ninety seven percent of the population of Derris-Kharlan. I could only find a small portion of our men, and Moebius… Well… Moebius is dead. I held him as he passed away. Our best scholars and mages kept you just barely alive Lord Kratos…though it was lucky we found you to begin with."
"Derris-Kharlan is a floating world of raw mana. An impact like that would have-"
"Lord Kratos…the world is suffering from it. The sheer force of the impact has cause the Great Tree of Life to erupt from its seedling state and into a massive pillar of power…and that is where most of what was once Derris-Kharlan is. Circling and seemingly protecting the full grown tree. But that is not all. The impact scattered the entire planet and rearranged it, pushing it all together and unto the opposite side of the world of the Tree. Of course, plenty of the land was drawn towards the tree to create a massive field surrounding it from every angle."
"How…how do you know this?"
"Some of Derris-Kharlan was still littered here. Including a barely functional system that controlled the world view camera system. We accessed our world view long enough to print a map out before it died completely. As I have said, the world has been completely rearranged." Raziel spoke, ruffling through his overcoat and handing a flat electronic pad to Kratos. Cringing in pain as he took it, Kratos lifted the pad up and glared at it. Pressing a few buttons revealed everything that had been said to be true. A large chunk of land was far away from the rest of the world, and in the center was a fuzzy area of grey. Pressing an arrow button on the pad he saw that, much like had been said, the rest of the world was now one single chunk of land. In the very center of it was something that made no sense. Meltokio. And in the center of Meltokio was the Martel Temple.
"This…is…"
"I have a nice list of words complied already, Lord Kratos. And odd is one of the lower ranking ones. To make it better, we are currently in Triet, whose desert is a neighbor now to the ruined Tower of Mana."
"She called herself the Testament of Chaos." Kratos quickly cut off, handing the machine back to Raziel. When he let go of the machine he heard it hit the ground with a dull thud and nothing more. Slowly, Kratos turned to look at Raziel only to see that Raziel was looking at both confused and scared.
"Testament? Moebius said something about that before dying. He said…there were eight Testaments. Four of death, four of destruction. Then he repeated the verse that was translated twice more just before he died." Raziel slowly replayed, rubbing his gray hair that was now freed from his combat band, in deep thought. "I never understood what he meant, and frankly I still don't." Kratos closed his eyes for a moment to try and put two and two together. He was well aware that his actual armor to his outfit had been removed and he himself was left in his skin tight under armor. He still had his Cruxis Crystal on however, and could feel it. The biggest part was that it felt different to him. It had felt foreign now. However, very loosely, whether by the helping hand of an outsider or by a sheer case connect the dots, Kratos' mind wandered to his son. The Eternal Swordsman Lloyd Irving, and quite possibly the single most powerful being on the face of the planet. The next thing he saw was a bloodied and beaten Lloyd being cradled in Mithos' arms, and a masked figure standing further off from him gripping a staff wrapped in lightning. His eyes opened at record speeds, yet the image was still there.
"Raziel…" Kratos began, slightly unsettled.
"What is it, Lord Kratos?"
"Bring me my armor and weapon, and let me heal myself. When you've done all that, find a working system or anything that can track across the planet and find my son…now." Kratos spoke with a deadly calm about him. A quick nod was all it took for Raziel to go about doing what Kratos requested. Kratos breathed in slowly for a moment, allowing the mana to work its way to his fingertips. Rolling up a sheet into a ball like format, Kratos slipped it into his mouth before slapping his hands down on the damaged ribs. He screamed bloody murder into the sheets before he could remember to unleash the mana back into him. Moments later the pain faded away entirely and Kratos could feel only discomfort to remind him of his ordeal. Lifting his hand up, Kratos looking into the crystal and frowned. It had changed considerably in color.
It took him only a moment before he remembered what he was doing. With only a single glance, Kratos summoned out his wings and let them flap steadily behind him. Instantly he was aware of a slight pain that existed within the points of his body where his wings were.
"So…I can feel pain even in an angelic state…interesting." Sighing once as the flow of energy weakened within him, Kratos faded out his wings. The seraph turned and looking at the nearest window, glancing off at the distance. "Lloyd…whatever happens, just run…"
------ ? ------
Lying on a shoreline at the edge of the mainland was a red clad warrior, sprawled out and barely conscious. Water slid back and forth beneath him, sweeping under him and further dampening his already waterlogged body. His hair was soaked and hanged about him loosely and all over the sands as well. Another wave splashed down around him, and almost as soon as it finished Lloyd groaned out in pain and lifted up a hand to his surroundings. A pair of hands that were as soft as they were strong latched onto him and began pulling him away from the water. Soon, he could feel himself being half lifted up off the ground and dragged, though to where he couldn't tell. Whether it was shortly after and not, Lloyd felt himself leaning up against a tree and regaining focus on his surroundings. As he did, he lifted his head up from its limply hanging position to come face to face with his guardian angel.
Or in certain cases, evil hell spawn possession fiend. This individual in question, of course, was Mithos, who had taken nicely to sitting just in front of the recovering swordsman with a grin on his face. An innocent looking grin, but undoubtedly twisted in nature to Lloyd.
"And now, Lloyd, you owe me. Big time." Mithos quipped.
"Like…hell I do." Lloyd muttered slowly. "What the hell happened?"
"Your dad proved he couldn't fly a planet, Lloyd. That'd be what. Hey…just a thought, but wouldn't he kind of be our dad now?" Mithos replied, first annoyed and then back to his innocent façade.
"No." Lloyd said flatly with a coupled stare that was just as flat. "Sheena said she can do those…exorcism thingies. Maybe that'll work on getting rid of you."
"I saved your life and that is all the thanks I get? A possible eviction notice, huh? As far as I am concerned Lloyd, you owe me now, and I think due payment is a free place of residence." Mithos replied, before his eyes shot up towards the forest that was resting just behind Lloyd. "Now that is impossible." This time, the rather playful voice that belong to the four millennia old half-elf was completely gone
"What, something here is scarier than you?" Lloyd cracked, pushing up to his feet. Mere heartbeats later, Mithos tackled Lloyd as hard as he could and just barely knocking him out of the way before lighting evaporated the tree that he had just been resting against. Not bothering to say anything, Lloyd and Mithos pushed quickly to their feet and glared at where the tree had been; now only left with a smoking and burning stump. Standing firmly on the aforementioned tree stump was a main in blue with a bladed staff held tightly in his hands.
"I should like to think I am far scarier than any voice in your head, Irving." The figure spoke with a vicious snarl. Holding up his left hand into the air and pointing the staff towards Lloyd with his other, energy began to engulf his body. "I am called the Testament of Pain. And you, Lloyd Irving…need to die!"
A/N: The end. Here are the current pairing and the number of votes they have.
Sheena/Lloyd: 6
Undine/Lloyd: 6
Zelos/Presea: 4
Colette/Genis: 4
Mithos/Lloyd: 4
Sheena/Zelos: 3
Presea/Lloyd: 3
Regal/Kratos: 2
Kratos/Sheena: 2
Regal/Sylph: 1
Dirk/Altessa: 1
Thanks for all the voting you guys have done so far. The next chapter is the beginning of a chase. For what you ask? You'll just need to sit pretty and wait. Hope you liked our happy little cast of antagonists.
