Author's Notes: It seems that nothing more stands in Razath's way, but where are our heroes? They are coming, but there are other warriors and they may stand to fight for what they seek. Today, many destinies will be decided.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. There, I said it.

Chapter 10: Soul of Destiny

The three warriors stopped in their tracks as the feminine scream echoed through the forest. When it was followed by a deep roaring laughter, Roren's eyes went wide. "My god… It's still here." These words came under his breath, just barely loud enough for his companions to hear. Without giving them a chance to ask questions, he began to charge down the trail.

They eventually caught up to him as the path prepared to leave the forest. But before anyone could escape the cover of trees, a strange mechanical noise came to their attention. This noise was soon accompanied by a voice emanating from off the trail.

"Stop there," came the demand of the tall woman stepping into view. Her outfit seemed to cover only what was necessary, with white fabric lined with thick purple straps rising up from her thigh-high boots and snaking around her torso. Everything else was beneath a transparent nylon. Her right arm was covered with a long white glove that held fast to a sword, while her left arm was housed in a golden armor all the way down to her hand with the fingers resembling claws. The woman's eyes shined a bright turquoise from behind her pure white hair. The mechanical noise seemed to be coming from a small device in her armored hand, which was soon tossed to the ground.

The scantily clad swordswoman eyed the group she had been led to, until she came across the silk bundle on the young man's back. "You there, give Soul Calibur to me."

Roren was shocked that the woman had known about the sword, but his disbelief soon gave way to aggravation. "I don't have time for this. I need to keep moving."

"Then go," Tai said, pulling the kunais from her waist. Before he could ask her why, she spoke again. "Look, the sooner you get going, the sooner you slay your monster, and the sooner I can do what I need to do. Now GO!" Roren gave a nod in thanks before running down the trail out of the forest. Dralt stood in place for a few seconds, a proud grin on his face, before following after him.

The ivory haired woman tried to give chase but was promptly blocked by the ninja. Her anger was plainly written across her face as she shouted, "Get out of my way, you cur!"

Tairene did not back down. The woman did not scare her and she was prepared to fight. But there was a question nagging at the back of her mind. "Before you try to fight your way through me, let me know one thing. Why is it that you seek Soul Calibur when most warriors desire Soul Edge?"

The woman scoffed. "I've had quite enough of Soul Edge in my life. Because of it those I called my family, the ones who gave me the name of Ivy Valentine, were driven to madness and bankruptcy. Because of that sword my very birth and blood are tainted with evil…. But with Soul Calibur, I might be able to purify myself, to cleanse my blood. I've come too far to see that dream fail," she said, pointing her sword at Tai. "And I won't let a little tart like you stand in my way."

With those words, the battle to come could not be stopped. However, Tairene could see something of herself in the woman she fought; a life tainted, in some way, by evil, but the drive to do good things. The difference seemed to come in what they intended to do about that evil. While her opponent sought to remove the evil from herself, Tai would do everything she could to counterbalance it with good deeds. As the weapons began to clash, Tai's mind was on the first major step she took to that end.

After the trial and sentencing of the Mad Knight, Dralt, things began to improve within the kingdom of Ursprung. The king no longer waged his wars for more land and power. In fact, he even gave up some of his territories so that the small number of knights could better monitor it with minimal outside help. The many outlying villages now received more attention and their cries for help were answered when disaster struck.

Though these changes were for the better of the kingdom and all who resided within, everyone in the castle knew that this was not entirely of the king's own volition. It had been the last act they had seen of the Mad Knight. Even if the outcome had been righteous, Tairene still condemned the means by which he had achieved it.

She had now reached the position of power she had once strived for and, though it was not of her doing, the endless wars had stopped. She was actually quite happy with the state of things and intent on making sure that Tyrann did not slip back into his old ways.

Her title of Head of Intelligence was one of the higher positions in the kingdom. However, with the king now resisting the urges for war, there was far less need for information on their neighboring kingdoms. Even if this was the case, Tai moderated the information the king received to ensure he didn't receive an offer for power he couldn't refuse.

Several years into this work, Tai noticed one of her lower officers delivering a scroll to Tyrann. She had not ordered any mission to retrieve information. It would seem that the king was going over her head to get what he wanted. There was no telling how long he might have been doing this… at least, not without looking into his personal vault of important documents. She had to see what kind of information he was getting without her knowing.

Over the next several months Tairene spent her nights looking through the scrolls within the vault. Inside she saw several documents she recognized as those she had helped to steal from the various forts and castles Tyrann had intended to conquer. Only now did she get to see what they contained. Though the king had grudgingly given up his war path, it seemed that he had kept the information regarding the structural defenses of his fellow neighbors. While Tai did her best to dispose of these, she noticed that they were actually a small portion of the documents held there.

Many of the documents were on various rumors of powerful warriors. Tyrann seemed to have taken an interest in hiring these people for his own protection. Most had been rejected either out of conflicting morals or an inability to be controlled. Those that were considered further were either regarded as untrustworthy or had rejected the offer. These pieces of information had been gathered in the recent years and Tai could only wonder what could have sparked the interest in a powerful warrior to defend him when the knight who had almost killed him was gone.

What she read only seemed to get worse as she read more. There were records of people capable of dark magics and foul creations. Such perversions of nature had been researched in great detail. There were also list of various magical items, some of which were marked as having been collected and stored within the treasury.

Worst of all amongst these magically imbued items was the blade known as Soul Edge. At first, it didn't seem so bad, in fact, she had heard of it, though she had known it as the "Hero's Sword." There was more information on it, however, and it described a vicious entity bent on devouring the souls of man. From what Tai could tell Tyrann intended to use this power to gain power absolute.

An added page to these notes told tales of a potential threat to Soul Edge's power. Soul Calibur had been waging war with Soul Edge for longer than recorded history according to the documents. Though it was usually a holy weapon, it was noted that there was a brief period in which it had acquired an evil taint from Soul Edge. It had since regained its normal status, but even the potential for evil in such a powerful piece of magic was dangerous.

It scared Tai to realize that most of the information on these swords had been gathered in the years after the knight's attack, meaning that Tyrann had been planning its acquisition for some time. Perhaps he had been intrigued by the magic sword of the Mad Knight, and sought one of his own. But what scared her most was that the tale of these two blades was one of a truly eternal war with no victor and countless casualties to those involved. Many suffered from the very existence of these two living weapons that would not die. Tai resolved to renew her goal of ending an endless war by killing the magic blades; an act that would also keep them out of her still ruthless king and any other who wished to use them for the sake of power.

But such a deed required knowledge, planning, and powerful magic. Fortunately, she could find all three within the castle. Soul Calibur had been traced to a family line in China and was thought to be wielded by a woman who guarded the emperor. The plan within Tai's own mind was to use it in battle with Soul Edge so that she might weaken both blades to a point where she could dispose of both of them. The method for this would be through use of one of the magical relics she had noticed in her earlier searches.

An amulet of mystic inscriptions surrounding a purple gem of power, known as the Kraft talisman, was amongst the list of magical items. Apparently it had resided within the treasury since the inception of the kingdom several centuries ago. According to its record, it was to be used for draining magical power from people and items. It would then store this energy until its incantation was reversed and the magic was sent into a new host. But for Tairene's plan she would not need to transfer this power.

Waiting until the dead of night, Tai prepared for what was ahead… and what she was leaving behind. She donned the outfit she had spent much of her days training in, though with one small addition: a layer of chain mail underneath her gi, as she knew not what she might encounter on her journey. Returning to the information vault, she burned all the scrolls of information that Tyrann had been collecting. She walked away as this created a diversion and left the treasury wide open while she made her selective plunder.

Attaching the amulet to a cloth and fastening it around her neck, Tai made her way outside and took one last look at the castle before running off to begin her quest.

Dralt and Roren rushed out of the forest and onto the mountain trail. The rocky path was devoid of trees or other signs of life. For this they were thankful, as they wanted nothing to get in the way of the ferocious battle that was to come. The trail had just a few more turns before they arrived at what remained of the village. Just as it seemed that the path was widening before their destination, the sound of sliding rocks came up behind them and the two stopped.

Ahead was the outer wall of the village and the faint smell of smoke. Looking behind them, they saw a warrior with armor along his left arm and a katana tied to his waist by a large red rope. The man's face was unshaven and his hair was pulled back into a bushy ponytail of over a foot in length. Though the man had stopped in his course, his eyes went between the two before him and his right hand held fast to his blade.

Roren broke the silence. "Who are you, eastern warrior, and what is your business here?"

Fixing his glance on the youth, the man responded. "The name's Mitsurugi… and I come to do battle with Soul Edge. I carry a shard that tells me it lies just beyond that bend in the path."

Both the warriors were shocked at hearing that Soul Edge was within the village. Dralt seemed lost in thought at this before Roren spoke up again. "We have come to battle a monster in the village. Perhaps it is he who wields Soul Edge. However, if you wish to take that blade for yourself, then I cannot allow you to join our battle."

"And you intend to stop me, whelp?" Mitsurugi took a quick step to close the large gap between them.

"He won't have to," Dralt began, ending his silence, "because you'll have to get through me long before you face this one." Roren looked at the knight, surprised, before seeing him nod. At this, he turned to the village and ran off to complete his quest.

Before the samurai could begin to give chase, the purple armored guardian planted the tip of his massive blade into the ground. Mitsurugi would have to defeat the knight if he wished to pursue Soul Edge. As he began to draw out his katana, however, his opponent began to speak.

"Why do you seek that sword, warrior?"

Mitsurugi laughed. "Many seek the blade, knight, for its power is legendary… and you would ask me why I journey after it?" Dralt remained silent. "Hmph. Very well then." The samurai cleared his throat. "After many years of war and constant battle, I have grown bored with the weak warriors that come after me. They all fall too easily and provide me no challenge. Entire armies, even those wielding the new weapons, rifles, have failed to cut me down and fallen to my blade. And so I hope to find someone that might be a worthy test of my skills. I believe that whoever wields Soul Edge would be just such a test, and when I carry it after my victory, many strong warriors will come after it. In this way, my abilities will be constantly tested."

Dralt stared at the samurai before giving his reply. "So you seek a powerful warrior, a challenge to your skills." He tightened the grip on his hilt and used his free hand to motion his opponent to move in. "Then I shall be your challenge. Come and get me!"

Mitsurugi sneered and held his sword at the ready. "If you're going to stand in my way… you're dead."

And as the samurai moved in to start the battle, Dralt felt a degree of pity for him. The man had lost himself to the thrill of battle and could not enjoy the time of peace or find the embrace of a warrior's death. Worse still, if he continued on his current path, he would lose his very soul to the object of his desire. All this reminded Dralt of when he, too, had been so very lost and had almost given up his life so that he might find tranquility within his own soul.

Finding himself within the castle dungeon after his rampage, his armor still coated with blood, Dralt's senses and sanity returned to him. And with these came the realization and guilt of what he'd done. Time passed slowly as he sat within his prison… alone with his thoughts, his actions, and his failures.

Almost a week had passed before Tyrann sent for him, replacing his cage with shackles. Neither was necessary as Dralt had lost his will to fight and did not wish to bring any more harm.

Dralt was half dragged through the castle before being set on his knees in the middle of the throne room. Before him, sitting in the very seat of power he had nearly died in, was Tyrann, his right arm in a sling. To the king's left and right were those who had survived the massacre.

Looking between them, Dralt saw the castle knights who were thinking of what could have caused such madness. He saw the few remaining mercenaries who were thinking of how much they despised him. And lastly, he saw a young woman who didn't seem to know what to think. His eyes returned to the king as the proceedings began. "Dralt: knight who once served my father and has now betrayed his kingdom, how do you explain your action?"

Dralt straightened himself as best he could with his restraints before giving his answer. "I was acting under a madness induced by my failure to fulfill my final obligation to your father. He told me to do what I could to advise you and guide you on the proper path. He wanted you to become a compassionate king… and desperately wanted to avoid what you've become."

Tyrann gave a slight laugh. "You do well to speak of madness and 'compassionate' kings together. My father was a fool to hold such ideals so high when a king need only do what might increase his power."

The chained knight hung his head low before giving his calm, yet defeated response. "You're wrong. Regardless of what you believe, a king does have an obligation to his people. Your fa-"

A fist slamming onto the arm of the throne interrupted him. "Enough of this nonsense! We are not here to discuss what you believe my failings to be nor what my father expected of me. We are here to decide your fate." He paused and let this hang in the air. "Now, 'good knight'… give me one good reason why you should be allowed to live."

Dralt sighed heavily before looking into the king's eyes and giving the honest truth. "Because were I to be executed, it would be among the last things you do during your reign as king."

A gasp circled the room. Tyrann stood and pointed with his good arm. "You threaten me even now, old man?!"

Dralt shook his head. "This is no threat. I merely speak the truth of the matter, which is that if you kill me now, the people of this kingdom will rise up against you."

The king scoffed and sat back down in his throne. "And what makes you believe that?"

"I've told you many times to consider the needs of the people, but your concerns have always been for your own gain. But as you took more power and land, those under your rule were subjected to the terror of your wars. And when those you took from chose to fight back, I was there to defend the villages and farms, along with many of the knights in this room, and those you keep far away from this castle. I have been there to protect the people where you neglected to and have become a hero to them in the process. The execution of a hero by the king they despise will not be taken lightly… and can only lead to rebellion."

Tyrann quietly rubbed his chin as he considered this possibility. "If the people rise up against me then I will strike them down and let them know their place."

The knight's rebuttal came quickly. "With what army? Look around. You're all out of mercenaries who will do whatever you ask and have no connection to the people. Those that are still alive are in no condition to fight and may never be again. All you have left are the knights who were born and raised within the kingdom and I doubt you could convince them to turn on their family and friends. When the people rise, you will have no protection."

The king stared hard at Dralt before slamming his fist on his throne. "All right. You shall not die within this kingdom, but you shall not live here either. These knights will take you to the edge of my domain where you will be released and henceforth banished."

Shocked, Dralt sat there on his knees at the realization that he would never see his home again. Two knights came to his side and brought him to his feet before leading him to the hall. Several steps before they could reach it, however, they were interrupted by the king.

"One more thing." When Dralt turned around he say Tyrann snap his fingers. Seconds later a servant brought out the sword used during the rampage. "There is still the matter of what is to be done with this." He grabbed the hilt as the servant guided its tip to the ground.

Dralt took the opportunity to try to fulfill some portion of his promise to Krieser. "Your father wanted you to have that blade when I felt you were ready for it."

Tyrann nodded and examined the sword. "Well I can see why. It's a marvelous creation, obviously powerful, and certainly befitting of a king." Before Dralt could correct him on his father's reason, Tyrann released the hilt and let it clatter to the floor. He then addressed the knights in the room. "When you set him loose, give him the sword and send him on his way. I never want to see either of them again."

These were the last words Dralt heard from the king before being taken out of the castle and to the edge of the kingdom. Only then were his shackles removed and the royal blade returned to his hands. As he took his first steps of banishment, he turned briefly to get his last look at his home of Ursprung.

Dralt's time in exile was spent in the forests and mountains of the world, far away from society. Though he had been able to justify the slaughter in his madness and gotten through his trial with his life, his now sane mind could not wash the blood from his hands. He no longer felt fit for civilization.

As he kept himself away from the people of the world, Alondite ensured he would not die by natural means. Time seemed to have no effect on him and he no longer aged. The blade even gave him energy and he needed little sustenance.

But even with all these boons, Dralt had no will to continue on and no purpose to drive him. Despite this, however, he could not end himself with one swift action. He needed a place where he could slowly drift into death. He had been wandering for over 4 years when he found the desert canyon and he had been waiting there for several months when a young man found him there.

After his defeat at the hands of his savior, Dralt carried him through the canyon and out of the desert. The young man woke the next day to find himself in new surroundings and his wounds treated and healing nicely, though a fair-sized scar had begun to develop under his eye.

Dralt approached him in this state, introduced himself and said that, as agreed, he would help him on his journey. After hearing the boy's name, he was told of his quest to slay an evil creature that had destroyed his entire village. During this telling, Dralt saw a mirror to his own terrible deed. He found a new purpose in the belief that if he could help his new companion to slay this demon… he might be able to get rid of his own.

Leaving his companions behind, Roren raced on to face his destiny alone. That voice, that laughter, he had heard it all before. The fact that it had been so closely accompanied by a scream made him all the more certain that the demon he had vowed to kill was just beyond the dilapidated village wall before him.

Every bit of pain and hardship he had suffered in his seven-year journey came to the forefront and would be his fuel and fire in the battle ahead. Ignoring the lone gate he knew was just around the bend, Roren made short work of climbing the crumbling structure and took in the sight of what was once his home.

Razath had made his way back to the village by winding through the forest without a trail to follow and then climbing the mountainside. Upon reentering the ruins, he noticed that very little had changed during his time away. The burnt homes remained in the same shattered position. Skeletal remains marked where the many bodies had fallen.

The only real change was that the massive hole he had dug to view his crystalline prison had collapsed in on itself over the years. But the layer of dirt was thin and it only took a moment or two of digging to reacquaint himself with that which he had journeyed far and wide to destroy. Standing over its now exposed center, the demon raised Soul Edge above his head and prepared to bring it down and shatter the crystal.

A noise broke his concentration as he looked to find its source. What he found was a shuriken cutting through the air in his direction. Letting the scythe fall to the side, he fired a bolt of energy at the projectile, shattering it in midair only a few feet from where he stood. Growling at what appeared to be one final obstacle in his path, Razath soon laid his eyes on the warrior who now opposed him.

The village had been a place of peace, kept separate from the rest of the world. It was founded high on a mountainside and the mountain itself was surrounded by a vast forest. To further distance themselves from the rest of man, a great wall had been erected around it with a lone gate allowing exit and entry.

Many of the people who lived there had either found it while seeking respite from the outside world or descended from someone who had. The reason so many who entered chose to stay was because of the great sense of goodness generated by the people there. Each of the individual villagers deeply cared for all the others in the village, a trait one may have been hard pressed to find in the nearby kingdoms. It was in this environment that Roren had been raised in; a world devoid of hatred, crime, and all the other evils of human nature. That all changed, unfortunately, when he turned 15.

A young man by most standards, he was now to take part in the hunt. The extended family of the village depended on the meat gathered by the young men, along with what food could be grown nearby, to feed everyone from the toddlers to the seniors. It would be a large responsibility for Roren, but it was one he was ready to shoulder. With only a day left until he would join the hunting party, he spent his time carving the bow he would use to feed the village.

As the victorious hunters returned to the walls of the village, a slight tremor pulsed through the ground. Roren had been standing in the stone archway, watching the hunters as they entered, and staggered as this happened. Before anyone could question what had happened a great, primal roar erupted from the earth beneath them.

Many of the people now began to panic, some making their way toward the village's only exit. Roren could only stand perplexed at the rumbling he felt beneath his feet. He was unable to move, despite every nerve telling him to.

Eventually a form burst up through the ground, tossing Roren backwards through the gate. He lay there, dazed and unsure of what was happening. At this moment, one of the villagers got down beside him and tried to raise him to his feet so they could escape. It was unfortunate timing, however, as the creature from beneath the soil shot crystal shards from off his back, many embedding themselves into Roren's helper. The body collapsed on top of him. For all the shock he had already experienced, he could hardly breathe now.

After regaining his senses, Roren pushed the cadaver off of himself and rose to his feet. Looking back through the archway, the monster that had risen from the earth came into his sight. He saw its armored form standing before the huddled mass of the many villagers who had not escaped. It faced its red palms toward the homes on either side, before shouting to the heavens, "I am the demon warrior, Razath, and all here shall suffer for my long imprisonment!"

As fire burst from the demon's hands and lit the village ablaze, new emotions began to rise within Roren. For the first time anger coursed through his veins. For the first time he felt hatred towards something. For the first time the need for vengeance was known to him.

And as all these dark feelings made their presence within Roren's system, he was watching as the red-skinned demon walked through the flames of his own creation to slaughter the people that had been his family. As such, all his anger, hatred, and newfound vicious nature were pointed directly at the fiend.

Despite the need to kill the creature, Roren would not be blinded by his bloodlust. The demon wore armor and wielded a scythe and magic as his weapons. Roren carried no weapon, nor did he have any training to use one if he did. He would need to make himself strong and wield a weapon capable of slaying the evil that had, in so short a time, destroyed everything he had cared for. He vowed to find the demon someday and destroy it, but only when he was strong enough.

Before leaving on his quest, Roren decided to take a token of his vow. Looking to the dead man who had tried to help him escape, he saw the shards in his back. They had been connected to the fiend and were meant to kill him… an excellent reminder. Taking the shards from the body and storing them in his shirt, Roren hurried down the mountain and through the forest to the sound of the terrible screams of those he had sworn to avenge.

Razath could see the absolute fury in the man standing on the stone wall. Pure hatred was shining in his eyes and seemed to pierce the fiend's armor. Without losing any of this ferocity to his gaze, the warrior in green tossed his sword behind himself and stepped off the wall and into the ruined village.

The demon was confused and laughed at the man's actions. "Ready to die so easily? Not willing to fight without the element of surprise?"

Roren took a few steps forward before addressing the monster that had caused the destruction he now stood in. "Oh, I'm not ready to die yet. I've waited a long time to kill you, and nothing's gonna stop me now." He breathed heavily, preparing for the fight that was coming. "You destroyed every one and everything that made me a good person; someone who wouldn't even have considered the things I've done to stand here now. But those things were all worth the cost if they'll allow me to see you die today."

"Oh, were you one of the few survivors," the demon asked with a mock sympathy as he looked around at the carnage he created long ago. When his eyes returned to the warrior, a wicked grin spread across his face. "Well, if you lived here then it's about time you learned the…'terrible'… truth. I was what made you a good person."

Doing his best not to allow his long-held fury give way to any emotion, Roren could not suppress the seed of confusion that had been sown. "What are you talking about?"

"I was trapped in this mountainside for centuries before your village was even founded. I was only able to keep myself going those long years by draining the dormant evil of whatever made its way above me. And you humans are so good at acquiring evil it made my escape so much easier. I imagine that with all the negative energies being constantly drained from the people here, they must have nearly been saints. All too unfortunate that their good nature was thanks to a demon."

Roren was very much surprised to hear the real reason his people's lives had been so idyllic… but it didn't change the facts. This fiend had slaughtered the people he grew up with, destroyed the home he had lived in. The only difference was that he now knew that they had all been used for a vile purpose in the many years before and it was just another thing to make his anger grow. He clenched his teeth and barked out the words, "For everyone who died in this village, and anyone else you've made to suffer, I have sworn to kill you and by the time the sun sets I intend to have fulfilled that promise."

The demon snarled at the declaration of his opponent. "It matters not how strong your resolve if you have thrown away your weapon… not that the blade you've forsaken would stand any chance against… this." With that, he held his scythe in front of him. "Behold the power of Soul Edge in its rightful place, in the hands of a true evil."

The young man stared at the fleshy components of the dark blade he had once considered wielding. He was now all the more certain that he had made the right choice on his quest. Pulling the silk bundle from his back he spoke. "I have not forsaken the weapon that will be your demise, demon." As the blade was uncovered it began to shine brightly. When Roren took the hilt that shine turned into a blinding light as it made its transformation.

The light dimmed to reveal Soul Calibur's new form. In Roren's right hand the blade had narrowed in width and lengthened by almost a third. One of its sides extended past the disconnected opposing side. It then curved back until it was even with the back edge. In Roren's left hand was a shuriken forged out of the same light blue steel. It consisted of 2 concentric rings with 8 prongs between them, holding it together. On the edge of the outer circle were 8 triangular blades pushing out from the inner prongs.

With the holy weapon now ready, Roren pointed the tip of his sword at the demon. "And so Soul Calibur takes its rightful place… opposing Soul Edge and its wielder." Razath let out an angered roar and they both prepared for battle.

Author's Notes: So much to talk about, so little... actually there are no restrictions here, but I just don't have it in me to discuss it all. If there's anything in particular you want to know, leave a review and I'll respond as quickly as able. The next chapter is all fight and I'm excited to see what everyone thinks. Until next time...