Keeper's Conundrum – Chapter Four

Sephiroth's Oblivion hit set the Dark Knight reeling right into the path of Kain's Double Jump. The punishment of the powerful strikes, on top of the damage Cecil, Tidus and Kitt had helped pile on him, was too much, and the Dark Knight went down in defeat. Cecil was troubled, very slightly, that they had beaten this foe in combat, and as a group. In the past, he had confronted the Dark Knight, the embodiment of his own dark nature and the evil deeds of his actions as a dark knight, after he had been transformed into a paladin. The battle, such as it was, had been fought within the Sanctuary of Light, not in front of it, and the key to winning had been for him to defend only, and launch no attacks. By enduring the heavy attacks, powered by the Dark Knight's remaining life force, Cecil had proved that he had truly broken from his dark past. It was fitting, in a way, for the Dark Knight to expend what life remained against the Paladin – almost as if the light in him fully accepted the shadows that were in his nature too, and still managed to shine brighter.

But, despite these troubling discrepancies between this encounter and the one in his past, they'd won the battle. Here it was, the moment with the Dark Knight foe defeated, the light would descend upon him, and finally, he could shed the dark armor and skills of his previous life and take up his paladin aspect and skills once more. Cecil set his balance against the disorientation he remembered from when he transformed into the paladin the first time. Nothing happened.

A sliver of brightest incandescence split the nearest wall of the Sanctuary of Light evenly in two and a doorway appeared. A figure appeared within that opening, silhouetted by the light shining behind him, and stepped forward.

A voice, touched with sadness, warmth, and paternal pride in equal measures spoke. "Justice and retribution are but trifling things. There are victories of greater worth. Someday you will know them. Go forth now, Cecil!"

Cecil remembered that solemn tone and the sense of the words, though they, too, were slightly different than in his memory. The split in the wall of the Sanctuary closed, and the brightly armored man approached.

Cecil's world spun about as he recognized his paladin self as the warrior nearing the party.

But...!

His world rocked to the core, Cecil almost reeled in his disorientation. It was only his years of knightly training, and yes, his years wearing such heavy armor that kept him on his feet – that, and taking a moment to close his eyes so he could gather his wits and his bearings.

While he was engaged in his silent struggle, the rest of the party advanced to greet the newcomer, who certainly looked like Cecil in his paladin aspect. The paladin smiled in response to the warm greetings, but held up a warding hand and walked past everyone to approach the dark knight. He reached forward and grasped the other's shoulders to support him.

The dark knight lifted his head at the touch that he somehow sensed even through the metal of his armor. Whoever noticed his distress had managed to anchor him, for which he was grateful. He wasn't sure what was going on, or how he would bear it – he fully expected, when the Dark Knight foe had been defeated, to have the light blaze brightly through his soul and be once more mystically transformed into his paladin self. When another, instantly recognizable as the paladin, stepped forward instead – and he hadn't disappeared, it threw him into the most awful doubt and confusion.

How many times must I confront and defeat the evil I had once done? Will I never be forgiven – will I never be free – of this? He looked down at the heavy metal encasing his hand as he raised his armored arm to gaze at the dark gauntlet he wore. Another hand, intimately familiar and clad in a significantly lighter and also familiar vambrace, entered his point of view and grasped his hand.

He looked up, not into Kain's eyes as he had expected, but into his own, framed in his paladin guise. No – we will never be free of this. Forgiven, by others, yes, but we know – the rest of our life is the coin we must spend to make up for what we have done. An odd thing happened as his twin gazes locked – it was as if his awareness darted back and forth between his two aspects shifting his awareness of self through his point of view, his sense of balance, and the details of the scene before him. It should have made him sick, it should have disrupted his balance enough to violently throw him, in both his forms, to the ground, but it didn't.

He knew he was the dark knight, still, even though his skills oriented toward the light, as his armor reflected. He knew he was the paladin, once more, though the shadowed, heavy armor showed he was still the dark knight. Each aspect was discrete from the other, and yet harmony flowed between them, unity of purpose and spirit bolstering and being bolstered, comforted and offering comfort and somehow he, his spirit, his mind was not overwhelmed by the fact that he was truly one being, though, improbably, presented and embodied in two separate forms – his past and present in the same place at the same time.

There was just enough of a perceptual offset that there was a difference. It was very slight, but just enough that Cecil knew that while he was communicating, somehow without words with himself, it wasn't as if he had gone mad, or was even in danger of doing so.

Perhaps the magic of the Record Realms is having this effect, he thought.

That is as good an explanation as any, his other self agreed. For now, we can function as two, though we are truly one. It could be there is a need for both the dark Cecil and the light one to confront evil side by side.

I – we – can bear that. As long as I don't slip into unquestioning obedience again.

When I won't permit that to happen? Come, the others are approaching.

Cecil, in both of his slightly offset points of view, discovered the communication continued to flow gently under the more immediate thoughts on the surface. While the others were predictably drawn to greet the 'newcomer' paladin Cecil, Kain neared his companion still clad in dark armor. As he walked up he nodded to signal his friend to walk toward the side slightly apart from the others. Once they were out of earshot, Kain removed his dragon-shaped helmet, by which Cecil knew that Kain was not only serious, but earnest.

Kain stared searchingly into his friend's eyes. "An unexpected development," he observed. "How goes it with you, my friend?"

"I am... I am the paladin over yonder," dark knight Cecil lifted his chin toward the other. "and I'm not. Perhaps it is similar to Palom and Porom – we are – twins of a sort. We don't display it, but I am as much light as he is, and he possesses the same darkness I do."

Kain looked at Cecil for a very long moment after that and shook his head. "I have never understood how your mind works." He smiled faintly. "Perhaps right now that is 'minds'."

"No, we share the same mind – in fact 'he' is aware of this conversation with you, while I am aware of the terrible joke that Tidus is trying to tell him."

"Must I fear for your sanity?" Kain tried to hide his real concern for his friend behind the light and almost bantering tone of his question, but failed.

"No more than usual, my friend." Cecil placed his hand firmly against Kain's nearest shoulder and gave him a hard shove. The dragoon barely budged. "Come, let us return to our group. Rest assured, despite the strangeness of this situation, I am okay."

"Hmph," Kain replied, replacing his helmet on his head.

"Have you noticed any new developments with 'them'?" Cecil asked. Kain knew immediately who the dark knight meant. 'Them' had become something of a code between everyone who had a personal name, to refer to those who didn't. The presence of companions who bore job titles, instead of names, was an ongoing mystery. Kitt didn't seem to be particularly bothered by them, accepting their help as she did that of all the heroes. The rest, or at least most of the rest (who knew what went on in Sephiroth's mind, as unless there was a battle going on, he kept to himself) traded off keeping tabs on them.

"It is as it usually is with 'them'. They are polite enough, pleasant in an undemanding, bland sort of way. Each still has and uses his or her individual skills, and admittedly they do it well, but there is something lacking..." Kain replied.

Cecil paused, struck by something. "I wonder... Perhaps they can't really fight like we do, like they mean it, because they have no reason to?" He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "I need to ponder this. Maybe that's why I'm two instead of one this time – dark and light, both aspects of my being, separated, and yet not..."

Kain stared sourly at him. "You just assured me of your continued sanity, at least as much as you've displayed in the past, and then you say something like that?" He shook his head. "Still, there may be some truth to what you are trying to say. I think I might grasp some of it. How can one fight with all one's heart – how can one do anything with all one's heart, if one doesn't have a name?"

"Perhaps it is deeper than that. It's not just the name that's missing – it's the very concept that they should possess names," Cecil observed.

"And yet they aren't like the manikins in the conflict between Chaos and Cosmos. They are people – not constructs," Kain observed.

"I agree. Perhaps they've forgotten that?" Cecil ventured.

"Perhaps. I will keep watch over them for now."