Shiloh's lungs were close to bursting and she shook her head emphatically, no she would not serve, but the thought was drowned out as soon as it entered her head, had she even denied him? Her skin was crawling, it felt stretched on the verge of tearing away from her, ripping at the seams, and she wanted to scream, but all that entered her mouth was more smoke, filling her to bursting, denying her air. Desperate fear coursing through her instead of blood, she couldn't breathe.

"Shiloh, wake up!" A distant voice called to her.

Tears sprung to her eyes, she was dying, the smoke would choke her, and she would no longer be herself, she would die, replaced by the inky black voice.

"Shiloh, it's a bad dream, open your eyes." The voice was deep, but distant.

She felt her body convulsing, shaking, and again, she tried to scream. She didn't want to die, not like this, she still had so much to do, so much to see. The more she shook the more the smoke seemed to dissipate and fall away from her. The distant voice became stronger, the chill of the smoke was replaced by firm warmth. The voice kept telling her to open her eyes, and she wanted to tell him that she couldn't, the voice seemed so familiar.

"Wake up, it's ok, open your eyes, there's nothing to be scared of, Shiloh, it's just a dream." She felt a dry and calloused hand on her face, brushing her cheeks.

Her eyes snapped open, free of the smokes influence. Her large pink eyes were wild and damp, and she gasped in air, filling her lungs. She exhaled, her voice shuddering, her hands reached, she was tangled in a sweat soaked bed roll, still not cognizant. She was being lifted and at first the panic bloomed a new, and she fought against the arms holding her.

"Easy, Shiloh, it's me, it's Vesuvan. Look at me, I'm a friend." His words were gentle but firm, anchoring her to reality.

When she finally did recognize him she froze, looking up into his familiar pale eyes, her mouth opening and closing, wanting to say something, but unsure what. Relief washed over her like a salve, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks, she leaned against his chest, hands balled into fists clinging onto his shirt. She forgot to be embarrassed, or proud, she was simply too relieved to care as she cried against him. She could feel his arms go around her tentatively. He rubbed her back with one hand and kept his other near the back of her neck, lightly scratching. Her ears slowly lifted from lying flat against her head, and her tail stopped swishing, the fur smoothing once again. She stopping gripping his shirt so tightly and let her breathing go back to normal, she inhaled his scent, banishing memories of the smoke from her mind, replacing them with sweat and spice, and leather.

"Was it the Lahabrea dream again?" He asked, his voice quiet and close to her ear, his breath moving the sensitive fur within.

"Yeah." She answered quietly. She pulled away from him, regaining her composure. Her pride and dignity finally catching up with her, and she was deeply embarrassed for showing such vulnerability.

The nightmares had started the same night after their encounter with the Acian, each night the nightmare would become more vivid, more real. She bore the marks of sleep deprivation, her bright pink eyes blood shot, dark circles beneath her lids. Minfillia had given them a reprieve; they would be contacted when it was time to move on Titan. Shortly thereafter reports of bodies had begun to surface in the Twelveswood. Shiloh's former mentor and conjurer guild master, E-Sumi-Yan had contacted her privately, believing the deaths to be unnatural and to be the work of demons. She agreed to investigate.

The bodies were all those of women, their faces brutalized and mutilated, everything that had once made them female cut off and destroyed, each showing evidence of having been alive, indicating they had been tortured and had suffered horrible deaths. Shiloh had emptied her stomach upon first discovering the corpses. The land where the bodies were found was defiled and screaming in anger. Upon further investigation it was discovered that a great flying eye had been seen near one of the victims, confirming the Padjal's suspicions. The one link connecting all the victims had been a peculiar pin they all wore. Shiloh and Vesuvan were on their way back to Gridania to show the pin to merchants and crafters when a violent thunderstorm had forced them to take shelter in a cave for the night.

Thunder crashed overhead, followed by a web of lightning, the rain pounded the stone at the mouth of the cave, trickling into their damp shelter. The fire sputtered and smoked, and the two Chocobo's nestled closer together, feathers momentarily ruffled. Shiloh was glad they had given those unfortunate girls proper burials, returning them to Earozea, flowers would bloom from their bodies and they would be at peace. Or so she hoped. How could anything be at peace when touched by such darkness? She ran her hands through her hair, her velvety soft ears twitching.

Vesuvan backed away, returning to his own bed roll, questions hanging between them, as heavy as the moisture. He poked the fire, adding some twigs, he wanted to help her, Shiloh could sense as much. He wanted to fix her, but Shiloh wouldn't allow it, and Vesuvan didn't know how.

"You should try getting some more sleep." He finally said, staring into the tiny fire.

Shiloh slowly lowered herself back into her blankets, turning to face the fire. Already her heart beat had accelerated; anxiety over what she would see when sleep finally took her. Her eye brows creased, and she silently chewed on her lower lip, fingers grasping each other under the covers. She was exhausted, she desperately did want to sleep, but she was afraid.

"I'll get you if it gets bad again." Vesuvan flicked his silvery eyes at her, unsure how else to offer reassurance.

"You really don't need to do that every time." Shiloh spoke into the fire, not meeting his eyes.

"I know." He pulled a blanket over his shoulders, leaning against the wall of the cave, making himself comfortable. "Get some rest."


Vesuvan had never seen her like this, she was angry. Ever since discovering the old servant to Lady Amandine and learning the truth, the aura of fear and uncertainty that had surrounded her since their meeting with Lahabrea was lifted, and she was livid. For the first time in two weeks he hadn't needed to wake her from her nightmare and he was grateful, at least, for that reprieve. They made their way through the forest to the once grand Haukke manor. There was steel in Shiloh's eyes, her lips set in a thin line. Vesuvan kept a close watch on her; the normally predatory and dangerous animals in this part of the Twelveswood were unusually timid, giving them a wide berth. He wondered if it was thanks to her connection to the elements or Hydalyn, but she seemed to pulse with energy, much like what he sensed when they confronted Lahabrea.

"Are you ready to bloody your axe, Vesuvan?" Her voice was low, her pink eyes shining, almost manic, and her lips parted in a smile that flashed her fangs. "Naught but evil resides within, and you and I will purge the land of this abomination." She placed a light hand on his chest and reinforced his armor with the weight of the land, a skin made of stone. "Don't hold back."

Vesuvan inhaled a breath, and allowed a predatory grin, something stirred inside of him, something deep and primal. When they had first met there had been something like shock or fear in her face when he fought, he was brutal and efficient, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the fight, in fact he reveled in it. Something had changed in recent days, he could swear he saw blood lust in her rose pools, and he liked the look on her.

"I never do." His voice rumbled low, as he tilted his head down towards her. He touched her chin lightly with his forefinger, running his thumb over her heart shaped lips, she breathed in sharply but held his gaze. He flashed her a dark toothy smile and lowered the visor on his helmet, then swung his axe into the door, splintering it into a thousand tiny pieces. It was time to kill.


Her white robe was stained black. Demon blood ran down her cheeks, she could taste the bitter copper on her tongue. Behind her she could hear the crunch of bones and the desperate screams of the now wingless succubi as they succumbed one by one to Vesuvan's great axe. These were the perverted souls of the innocent women who had been used in unholy ritual. All light, all resemblance to their former selves had been burned and cut away. Shiloh stood over one, holding it by the neck, the element of wind tearing at its wings, while it screamed garbled pleas for mercy. A quick death would be the only mercy offered to the darkness here.

"That is not the answer I wanted, devil." She hissed at her subject. The wind tore away one wing, tendon and skin and bone tearing, black blood bursting from the wound. She tightened her grip on its throat when the screams became too loud. "Where. Is. Your. Mistress?"

"Above….above in the solar….please, mercy….please…it hurts." The succubus whined in its hollow voice.

Shiloh turned, throwing the demon down at Vesuvans feet. No words were needed; he smiled and grunted, letting the axe slice the head cleanly off its shoulders. He kicked the corpse away, and slung his axe over his shoulder. Vesuvan stretched his neck, cocking his head from side to side. His blood was singing in his veins, he wasn't sure what was more thrilling, the heat of the battle, or watching Shiloh be as ruthless as she was being. It was a side of her he had simply not expected, then again, when he thought about nature, and the elements that served her, nature was as brutal as it was nurturing. He supposed it was a natural part of her to be as fearless and heartless as a storm in one moment, then to be as serene as still water the next.

"We're done here, our quarry is in the solar on the next floor." Shiloh spoke, her breathing heavy. She felt the blood on her fingers touching their tips, sticky and hot.

She heard every step Vesuvan took towards her; she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow when he took her bloodied hands in his. He raised the blackened finger tips to his mouth and brushed his lips against them softly, barely a kiss. Still the contact was electric, their eyes locked in a predatory gaze. The retribution and battle quickened blood and heart alike. He released her hands and backed away, always grinning, always calculating before nodding and turning to stalk back down the hallway they had come. Shiloh released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She was dizzy, light headed, almost drunk, she rubbed her finger tips together absently, the blood had cooled as it dried. She brought them up to her lips, and narrowed her eyes, she let out a low chuckle before following after him.

Vesuvan and Shiloh entered the solar, the great flying eye that had guarded the threshold nothing more than a stain on the already bloody carpet. The former duskwight noble was a shadow of her former self, with large leathery wings and a forked tail. Claws replaced nails, and fangs were prominent in her mouth. Her eyes were hollow and white, Lady Amandine was a servant of the dark, a demoness, and so far as Shiloh was concerned irredeemable.

"What is this? Guests?" She floated over to them, pupiless eyes boring into the Miqo'tes, both seeing and unseeing. "Such a handsome knight, and to have brought me such a lovely tribute, you will be rewarded." Her voice echoed, but dripped with desire and longing.

Vesuvan curled his lips at her, holding his axe in front of him. Shiloh gripped her staff, she could feel her tail whipping behind her, she began the slow whispers of an incantation, power welling within her.

"Not likely." He growled out at the Mistress of Haukke manor.

"She's not for me? Such a pretty little virgin, I've been so hungry as of late. Unless you mean to devour her yourself, rob me of my youth, of my beauty, I will not forgive your insolence…" Her voice was shrill, her face twisted, seething with jealousy, her rage palpable.

"I will rob you of much more than that, harpy." Vesuvan took a step forward ready to charge, to split the witch in two.

Shiloh took a step forward, Vesuvan looked at her in protest, but stopped. She was clad in light, energy coalescing around her being. She lifted her staff and her body rose into the air, the light bursting from within her in a blinding epicenter, all three present bathed in brightness. Lady Amandine began to scream clawing at her eyes, her dark skin curled like burning parchment. Shiloh's feet returned to the floor, but her eyes blazed with the light of the crystal.

"I am the champion of light chosen my Hydalyn herself, and the light shall burn away the darkness. Today your sins will be judged before the crystal and your soul will be in her hands. All I do is send you to her." Shiloh's voice was other worldly as she took slow steps towards the writhing demon.

Roots burst from the floor wrapping themselves around the screaming duskwight, the earth rumbled beneath them cracking the wooden beams of the manor, shaking the foundation. The roots tightened around her like a noose until the screaming stopped for lack of air. They tightened until the roots severed limbs and head from body, the Twelveswood herself taking revenge on the source of impurity. The remaining ghouls and denizens of the manor came running at the sound of their screaming mistress. The light that had been streaming out of Shiloh began to dim, her eyes went from shining white back to their normal rosy pink. Her legs were shaking, the elements of the Black Shroud, Hydalyn herself had spoken through her, she was left with a strange feeling of longing in her heart.

"Shiloh, we have to go, now." Vesuvan grabbed her by the elbow, urging her back.

"Yeah." She nodded, standing and wondering if it was in fact her legs that were shaking or the crumbling house, or perhaps a combination of both.

Vesuvan ran headlong into the oncoming creatures. They were all that remained of Amandine's rule. He spun his axe, connecting with bone and flesh; those that his axe did not fell were devoured by the earth and trees, by the water and howling wind of the Shroud. For the first time in his twenty three years of life he understood what it was the Padjals and Conjurers meant when they said living elements. He abandoned the fight, grabbing Shiloh's hand and ran as quickly as his legs would carry him, dragging her behind him. They stumbled into one of the shallow pools outside and watched as the Twelveswood purified the taint in its midst.

After a time the sound of churning earth, and creaking roots ended, the forest sighed in relief and the birds resumed their singing. Nature carried on, as it always had, as it always would. Shiloh and Vesuvan remained sitting in the water, her hand still firmly grasped in his, the sound of their breathing filling their ears. Shiloh's head snapped up, her fingers tightening around his hand. He looked to where she was staring, and grit his teeth. The two Acians strolled towards them leisurely, as if a mansion had not just been swallowed by the earth.

"Our master was not wrong when he said you had power. Hydalyn chose well." The first spoke, in a voice much like Lahabrea's, but with less power.

"Pity your existence opposes our goals." The second spoke, crouching to pick up a piece of debris, any expression hidden by a full black facial mask.

"Oh there is no need to worry, yet. Our master asked us only to observe, and take measure of your power." The first added when he noticed Shiloh struggle to stand, sensing her dread.

"Strange how darkness blossoms in the most unlikely of places, farewell champion, we will meet again." The second stood, dropping the refuse before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke with his cohort.