The Midgardsormr Dimension (written by author EJyPt)
Voldos was bored with his assignment.
He and about a dozen other Elvaan guards had been charged with the duty of escorting a chocobo-drawn carriage from the distant fishing village of Selbina.
There had been a brief exhilarating moment of excitement as they crossed the Valkurm Dunes, fighting off hordes of attacking goblins. However, it waned considerably once they reached the plateau of La Theine. There was the occasional Orc or wandering goblin to contend with, but otherwise things were rather quiet.
He had hoped the trip would have been more interesting, for there was a single female among the Elvaan escorts. However, she had long since tired of his advances and had been ignoring him since they had entered La Theine Plateau. The memory of the stinging slap he had received could attest to that.
As it was, he was glad that they were finally nearing the city walls of San d'Oria.
He did not even know what was in the carriage they were guarding. They were told not to ask, and expressly forbidden to look inside.
He was distracted from further thought, however, when a small Mithra dropped down from a nearby tree, landing smoothly on her feet in the middle of their path. The single chocobo warkled in surprise as it came to a stop, the carriage jolting to a halt behind it.
All that held the attention of Voldos was her slender scantily-clad form.
"Why, hello there," he said with what he considered to be his most charming smile as he approached her.
He noticed now that what little she wore was a type of light padded armor outfitted with several strategically placed lethal-looking blades. She also wore a pair of small chain-linked gloves, each with four long blades protruding from the knuckles, very much like claws.
There was something very odd about her eyes. He couldn't quite place it. They seemed rather dark and clouded, and it was apparent that she was not going to be swayed by his charm.
So he reluctantly reached for his sword.
He barely had a grip on its handle when the young Mithra reacted with a quick slash across his throat. He slumped to the ground in shock as she turned away and proceeded on to the other startled Elvaan.
It suddenly came to Voldos as he lay on the ground, clutching his throat, his consciousness fading.
Shadow. The Mithra's eyes were dark with shadow energy. She reeked of it, cursed by its power. Her very veins flowed with Evil.
Vivli was not as slow-witted as the Orcs she had been raised with. She had a sharp intelligence, which on more occasion than not had enabled her to figure most things out on her own.
She realized that she had done this before.
Initially, she had assumed that this was merely another carriage bound for San d'Oria. Yet that had been the same male Elvaan with the same dumb-founded expression on his face as she cut him down.
This was the same carriage. It was on the same spot along the path in the forest of West Ronfaure. It was the same time of day. The very same day as it had happened before.
Yet her keen observation had brought to her attention several slight differences as well.
This time the carriage was being drawn by only one chocobo, not two. One of the male Elvaan had been absent, and replaced by a female. The carriage itself seemed a bit more worse for wear, a large gash in its side, and there was what appeared to be a goblin's dagger stuck in one of the crossbars of the wooden wheels.
The major difference, however, was that there were now a group of adventurers passing by. The commotion had sent them running to give assistance, but by the time they arrived, it was too late. The Elvaan guards already lay dead or dying at Vivli's feet.
She turned to the newcomers, the strange power that the mysterious cloaked man had given her coursing through her body. She enjoyed the feeling it gave her. It made her faster, stronger, smarter.
She sprang forward, taking out the two Elvaan immediately with two simultaneous well-aimed strikes. Twirling on one foot with the grace of a dancer, she slashed out with her right claw, eviscerating the Humaan. She leapt forward, and with a single flip high over the Galka's head, she landed on his back and decapitated him with a quick powerful crossing of her long metal claws against the back of his neck.
She achieved all this within a matter of seconds, without even blinking an eye.
She leapt away from the fallen Galka and turned towards the final adventurer, her claws ready, anxious to tear into flesh.
For the first time in her life, she hesitated during a battle, her sharp metal claws mere inches away from the surviving adventurer's face.
A rather familiar face.
Her mind was racing. This one was different from the others. She wasn't Elvaan, or Humaan, or Galka, or even one of those annoying little Tarutaru. She was something else.
Vivli had been aware at a very young age that she was quite different than the Orcs she grew up with. She had been told that she belonged to a race of beastmen who lived on a distant continent. That she had been found, and taken in by Vokdek, raised to fight in the upcoming war.
She knew now that had been a lie. She had actually been brought to the Orcs by the black cloaked man, to prepare for an important destiny.
Save for her own reflection in the clear lake surface, she had never before seen the face of a Mithra. Until that very moment, as she stood motionless, her claws uncomfortably close to the Mithra adventurer's nose.
It was very much like looking at her own reflection, with the exception that the other Mithra had deep red hair whereas her own was a light auburn color.
All this had flashed through Vivli's mind within the span of a second, long enough for the adventurer to swing her sword. Sparks flew as steel clashed against steel, and her metal claws were knocked aside by the force of the blow.
Vivli took a step back, contemplating her next move.
She had been raised to believe that the Mithra were another race of beastmen. That together with the Orcs and the other servants of Shadow, they fought to reclaim Vana'diel from the servants of Light.
Then why was this Mithra allied with Elvaan and Humes?
Perhaps that had been a lie as well. Perhaps Mithra were actually the fifth race, not against the Light as she had been told, but defenders of it.
How different would her life have been, she wondered, if she had been raised by Mithra instead of Orcs?
The figure in the black and crimson cloak watched as Vivli backed away from the other Mithra, apparently unsure what to do next.
He found it remarkable that she had never before seen another Mithra. Of course, in the dimension she had been taken from, most of the Mithra had been wiped out by a mysterious disease.
Considering her youth raised by Orcs, how would she react when faced with another of her kind?
She would have to make a decision soon, he thought, for this was her test. Not the carriage of Elvaan cargo, or the group of Elvaan escorts, but these stray adventurers. This other Mithra in particular.
Her decisions. Her actions. This moment would define her destiny.
The two Mithra stood motionless, glaring at each other above their raised weapons.
It was quite apparent that the other Mithra was distraught over the loss of her friends, angry at what Vivli had done. So why did she not attack?
Vivli did not yet fully understand the concept of morality and honor. She only knew of the rather skewed view of honor taught to her by the Orcs. If someone had done to her what she had just did, then she would have struck immediately, without mercy.
This Mithra, however, seemed to be waiting.
For what? Vivli wondered. Reinforcements?
With her enhanced heightened sense of hearing, Vivli could detect nothing that would have been considered a threat within the surrounding area for miles.
"Who are you?" asked the adventurer, "What do you want?"
Vivli stared at her. The Mithra was upset, angry, and clearly distressed. Yet she hesitated and inquired as to her attacker's intentions. This did not make any sense.
Vivli once again wondered why this Mithra was allied with the servants of Light. Were Mithra actually the fifth race? Or had this particular one been corrupted by the Light, a traitor in the eyes of Shadow?
Either way, she had to be dealt with.
Faster than the other Mithra could have possibly even thought to react, Vivli became a blur as she sprang forward and tore into the hapless adventurer.
The darkness within the figure's hood nearly hid the small smile as he watched the Mithra fall to the ground, dead.
Vivli had passed the test remarkably.