The stars twinkled watchfully in the night sky, standing in silent vigil over the priests' bunker in Ladylake, where Velvet, Eizen, Sadie, and the Shepherd's four seraphim waited around Rokurou Rangetsu-Crowe's bedside. Celica had been there, but her constant energy had put everyone else on edge, and finally Velvet had told her to go play with Uno, whom Eizen gathered had become a babysitter of sorts for his energetic sister. It shouldn't have taken so long for the subject of their watch to rouse, and Eizen wondered just how much of his father Maotelus had truly saved.
At long last, a sudden groan cut through the silence, and Rokurou stirred slightly, his face twitching.
"Rokurou!" Velvet gasped, lunging to his side. "Rokurou, can you hear me? Rokurou!"
"Hnnngh," Rokurou managed, and at last, his copper eyes slitted open to see his wife hovering over him. "…Vel?" he rasped.
"Rokurou!" Velvet exclaimed, diving forward and hugging him.
"What…" Rokurou shook his head as though dazed. "What happened?" Not waiting for an answer, he shoved against Velvet to roll onto his right side and start to push himself up.
"Oh, Rokurou, don't get up so quickly," Velvet began, trying to press him back down.
But she was too late to stop him from sitting up and lifting his left arm to rub a hand through his hair…only to jab himself in the eye.
"Ow! What the-?" The words died on his lips as he stared at what remained of his left arm. Gasping in alarm, he raised his intact right hand and pulled back the sleeve that hung loosely from the severed stump. About halfway below his elbow, his forearm simply ended, leaving only a smooth nub in place of a wrist and hand.
"Rokurou," Velvet began softly.
"What happened?" Rokurou whispered, his eyes wide with horror. Eizen winced as the newly-purified swordsman turned as though trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only to immediately notice the problem.
"Rokurou, wait-" Velvet began quickly.
Rokurou shook her off, using his one hand to pull back the loose legs of his kimono. His left leg cut off about halfway down his thigh, and his right leg cut off a little below the knee.
"My legs…"
"Dad," Eizen said gently, "Maotelus did everything he could to save you, but he didn't have the power he used last time. There's, um…there's more," he added uncomfortably as his father settled back, staring at his hand and arm stump. "You had several blessings, and Maotelus had to use them all up…and he says you might have trouble concentrating for long periods of time, and some of your memories might be fuzzy or gone. But that's all!" he added desperately. "You're intact apart from that!"
Whether or not Rokurou had even heard this rundown of his condition was debatable, and Eizen wasn't sure he would have cared. In those copper eyes, Eizen saw total and utter devastation, and he knew his father understood what all this meant: Even with wooden legs and a lifetime of practice, the most he could ever hope for was to walk unassisted; he would never wield the Rangetsu style again.
"Rokurou," Velvet said, taking his one good hand in both of hers, "it's a miracle that you're even alive! Maotelus didn't think there was anything he could do at all! Remember, he told us that if we fell to malevolence again, he wouldn't be able to save us a second time?"
The ancient swordsman barely seemed to notice his wife. He was still staring down at his mangled body, horrified at the loss of so much of himself, of everything he'd spent centuries training for.
"I'm sorry, Rokurou," Velvet whispered, gripping his hand tighter. "I know you…never gave up on your dream. But you have us! You have your family, we're here, and we love you! That's…enough, isn't it? Can't that be enough?" she pleaded desperately.
"My dream…" Rokurou repeated under his breath, and suddenly, a spark it in his expression. "No…I…" He shook his head. "I remember. When Niko turned, and I had to fend her off…I achieved my dream."
"Huh?" Velvet gasped.
Finally, Rokurou turned and met Velvet's eyes, interlacing his fingers with hers, and his thumb brushed over the scar that crossed her left hand in a clearly-unconscious gesture - yet another wound left by malevolence, a mark of dark times past. "My memories of the last couple of months are…hazy," he rasped slowly, "but I remember that night. I remember, when I had to fight Niko while you and Eizen got away, knowing I was the only one who could make sure you would be safe…I realized what true strength is. True strength…isn't about brute strength or refined technique, it's not about practice or discipline…I mean," he added with a faint smile, and Eizen nearly collapsed with relief at the sight of a glimmer of the father he knew, "those things help, but without one key ingredient, it's all meaningless."
"Rokurou," Velvet breathed as he released her hand to place his only fingers along her cheek.
"True strength," he said, "comes from having something you know, with all your heart, is worth fighting for."
She leaned into his touch, a tear leaking from one golden eye.
"To protect you, Velvet, you and Eizen, I know I could have taken on Shigure in a fair fight," Rokurou told her. "Hell, I could have taken on a dozen Shigures, with just one sword, and I still could have won. That night, I wielded the power I've always dreamed of, and I know I could have defeated and killed any enemy, any number of enemies - it wouldn't have mattered, because I was fighting for my family. I could have killed any foe…" He sighed. "Except for my own daughter. I won, but I couldn't kill my own daughter."
"I wouldn't have wanted you to," Velvet whimpered.
"I don't think there's a choice," Rokurou sighed resignedly. "But because of the ways of my ancestors, I hesitated…and now I'm paying the price, we all are. I'm sorry for that, Velvet."
"No, don't be!" she exclaimed, clasping his hand against her face. "Don't be sorry, Rokurou! Niko is still our daughter!"
"And you're still my home," Rokurou said seriously.
"As you're mine," Velvet responded breathlessly.
Rokurou smiled, if faintly, and took a deep breath. For a moment, Eizen braced himself to look away in case his parents started kissing, but instead, Rokurou turned to face him. "There is something else I remember," he said: "I remember that you beat me, Eizen."
"Yes," Eizen nodded, suddenly nervous.
"I achieved my dream," Rokurou said, "and then I was defeated by my own son. I guess I can make peace with retirement, given all that. I'm not happy about it, but I can live with it."
"I'm glad to hear that," Eizen breathed, relieved beyond words. "I'm so glad you're going to be okay, dad. We were worried about you."
"I'll be fine." Rokurou frowned, and Eizen immediately felt on edge again. "But tell me something, Eizen. If true strength comes from having something you know, with all your heart, is worth fighting for, then…what are you fighting for?"
Eizen blinked.
"My memories of my time with Niko are few," Rokurou went on, "but I do know one thing for certain: Niko believes in what she's fighting for, with all her…well, not heart, but with all her being, she truly believes that malevolence is the key to saving this world. If your resolve wavers for even a moment, hers will crush you. So tell me, son, what are you fighting for? What is it you believe in?"
"I…" All possible answers fled Eizen's mind, leaving him mute, his mouth hanging open to make way for words that would not come.
"Convince me Niko's wrong," Rokurou pressed. "Convince me of what you're fighting for. Make me believe in your resolve, Eizen, or you might as well give up now. If you can't do this, you can't stop Niko."
Something in the ancient swordsman's copper eyes told Eizen that there was even more riding on this question than he knew, and he scrambled for a reply. He knew Niko was wrong, surely…and yet, hadn't his resolve already wavered since his journey began, outside the Guinevere Shrine, when neither Niko nor anyone who served her was even remotely close by?
Closing his mouth and his eyes, Eizen cupped his hands in a circle in front of his navel, turning all his focus inwards as he tried to puzzle out what answer he could possibly give. But what he couldn't stop coming back to was that there was an unsettling amount of truth to what Niko had always said - he'd seen it, plenty of it, while crossing the continent in search of a means to stop her. A man who would rather die a hellion than live in obscurity, people who would kill themselves because they thought it was the only way they could do good in the world, parents who abandoned children they couldn't be bothered taking care of…the world was full of pain and death, both things Niko said she wanted to end. Was this world really better than the one she sought to make? Could a truly good world ever be built?
Was there an answer?
He couldn't find one.
Desperate, Eizen opened his eyes again and turned to face his comrades, all of whom stood behind him. They were all wary as they met his gaze, and he wondered if even they knew what they were fighting for. Finding nothing that could help him, he turned back around, and his eyes landed on his parents' re-interlocked hands, on the scar left on his mother's hand by Artorius…and there, suddenly, came some glimmer of an answer.
Eizen blinked, then settled into his thinking stance once more, sorting out what had occurred to him. His parents loved each other, their love had broken a Mana Wheel, but that love could not have happened without the suffering they endured to end up in the same place at the same time, so long ago. Maotelus himself could not have risen to power, the flames of purification would never have come to be, if an unborn child hadn't died, or if that child's father hadn't lost all hope and nearly destroyed the world out of grief. Those were extreme examples, but the more he pondered it, the more he thought of lesser ones, too - like Ivy, who took delight in visiting the Plitzerback Wetland because her home was too hot and dry to be comfortable, or Sahra, whose remorse for her life as an assassin had led her to become the Fire Angel. There was pain and loss in the world, it was true, and people would do bad things and make mistakes…but they would do good, too, there would be happiness and love and bravery, and those things would make it all worth it. In fact…
All at once, something else occurred to him, a deeper meaning to all of life's cruel, sick jokes unraveling in his mind, and it was like he could suddenly see the whole world clearly. Everything made sense, everything had its place and its purpose, and when he opened his eyes, he knew he would never falter again.
"I don't think…Niko's completely wrong," he said slowly.
Startled gasps hissed at him from all around, and he let the shock pass before continuing on, not breaking eye contact with his father.
"When she says a world without malevolence would be no world at all," he clarified; "I think, in a way, that's kind of true. But where she's wrong is to say that malevolence is the answer, the only thing in this world that has meaning. That's not it. Darkness is what gives light meaning. If there was no darkness in this world, there couldn't be any light, either. How could anyone ever be brave, if they didn't have the option of being cowardly? How could anyone truly know joy, if they weren't able to feel despair? How could anyone ever be said to do the right thing, if they couldn't choose to do wrong? It's our choices, our ability to choose, that make life worth living - without that choice, existence would mean nothing, our lives would be written before they even began, there would be no point. A world completely without light might be empty, but no less so than a world completely without darkness would be. So, I'm fighting for a world that holds both, a world where everyone gets to make their own choices and then face the consequences…and I do believe in it, with all my heart!" He clasped his left hand, adorned in the glove that bore the mark of the Shepherd, over his chest, as his resolve settled.
Rokurou smiled and closed his eyes, nodding slightly in what Eizen could only read as approval. "In that case," he said slowly, and he reached his one good hand to the straps that held his greatswords slung across his back.
For a long minute, Rokurou struggled with one of the belts, trying to pull it up over his head with only one arm. Velvet tried to help, but he waved her off, murmuring that he had it, that he could do it. Eventually, one of those legendary blades was clasped, sheath and all, in his right hand, and he stared at it for another moment while Eizen held his breath.
"Son," Rokurou finally sighed, looking up to meet his son's gaze, "this…is Stormhowl. It's known throughout legends as the God Blade. Its peerlessly sharp edge can cut through anything, and the blade will never chip, dull, or dent; in the right hands, a single swing of this sword can summon a tempest powerful enough to level mountains. Thousands of years ago, our ancestor, the first Rangetsu, brought it here when he came from the far continent, and it's been passed down through our family for generations ever since, only ever wielded by the leader, the Shigure, of the clan." He exhaled deeply. "When I won it from my brother fifteen hundred years ago, I thought a day would never come when I would see this weapon passed on to my own progeny. But now…" Rokurou laid the sword out on his hand and the stump of his left arm, balancing it precariously as he held it out as far as he could, to Eizen. "…I pass it on to you. By defeating me in battle, and by showing yourself to be of worthy spirit - far worthier, perhaps, than any Shigure in history - you've earned it. Take Stormhowl, Eizen, my son, and use it to fight for the world you believe in. It's yours now."
"Dad…" Eizen breathed, too shocked to take the proffered blade. Those swords were his father's whole life, and for him to pass one down to him like this…Eizen's vision blurred, his eyes stinging with tears.
"Don't start crying, now," Rokurou told him, cracking a smile as though to lighten the mood. "Us Rangetsu men don't cry." The smile dropped, and he added, "And you are a man now, Eizen, one that I'm proud to call my son. Don't ruin it."
"How horrifically outdated and misogynistic of you."
The sudden, toneless voice shocked Eizen from his daze, and Edna walked up to stand beside him, her blue eyes meeting his.
"Go ahead and cry if you want to, baby brother," she told him; "I won't think any less of you."
"Hey, yeah, same here!" Zaveid spoke up from behind them, and the girls all added their own voices of agreement - even Sadie, despite the fact that she'd once believed that to feel was to fail.
"Don't listen to your father," Velvet said, and Eizen turned back to where she sat against her husband, one hand reaching over to grasp the swordsman's forearm in lieu of the hand that was holding Stormhowl outstretched. "Men have just as much right to cry as anyone else…and Eizen, you've grown up to be a fine man. Rokurou and I are both proud of you; a few tears won't ruin that." She smiled at him, her own golden eyes glistening.
There was nothing stopping the tears from pouring down Eizen's face now, and he whimpered, struggling not to break down and sob. With all the self-control he could muster, he reached out a shaking hand. "Father," he croaked. "I…I…" Steeling himself, he clasped the ancient sword in his grip and lifted it. "I won't let you down!" he choked.
"I know you won't," Rokurou said, dropping his arms as Eizen fought to lift the strap over his own head, the massive blade's weight coming to rest against his shoulder. Though it was hard to see through the moisture in his eyes, Eizen could swear he saw his father swipe his one good hand against his own cheek.
Taking a deep, shaking breath, Eizen reached over his right shoulder and grasped the hilt of the God Blade. Instantly, the grip seemed to mold under his fingers, and he blinked in surprise at the sudden sense of oneness he felt with the weapon. Without even thinking, he drew the massive sword, the metal singing a pure note of power and immutable resolve as it was unleashed from its case. When the blade was free and Eizen brought it into a ready stance in front of him, a faint gust of wind rustled his cloak, swirling around him with a force that seemed almost beyond even seraphic artes.
"Well look at that," Rokurou remarked. "Stormhowl already recognizes its new master." He chuckled. "Took me centuries to get that kind of result."
Eizen heard, but all his focus was on the nodachi clasped in his fists. He didn't need to swing it to know that the legends were true - he could feel the raw, primal energy radiating from the weapon, and knew that this power could only ever be wielded properly by the truly worthy…of which he had proven himself to be one such person.
"Damn." Zaveid's voice broke through Eizen's trance, and the wind seraph sauntered up to tap against the blade with a finger. "Now that is a sword," he enunciated, grinning. "We might have a chance against Niko and her dragons after all!"
"Way to ruin the moment," Edna grumbled.
Though he winced at the mention of what they had yet to face, Eizen nodded. "Stormhowl," he said reverently. "I will wield you well."
With that, he brought the massive blade up over his shoulder and sheathed it, somehow not missing its scabbard despite the unwieldy length - he didn't know the motions, but the sword did.
"You gonna give us your other swords, too?" Zaveid asked Rokurou.
"No," Eizen's father replied with a frown. "Kurogane Stormquell and the Kurogane Daggers were forged by a demon from his own body, they're not appropriate weapons for a Shepherd…" His lips turned down even further, into a full scowl. "And since Niko has no respect for the ways of our clan, she won't earn them either. The way I see it, I'm the only one who will ever wield them, and they'll be buried with me. And that's fine…I guess…"
Unless…Abruptly remembering the one person who wasn't there, Eizen looked up, his spirit lifting. "Hey dad," he said, "I have some good news for you."
"Good news?" Rokurou repeated. "Heh, I could use some good news…"
Bracing himself for a storm of a different sort, Eizen went to the door to the hut and opened it. "Celica!" he called. "You can come in now, he's awake!"
"Daddy!"
His youngest sister's scream pierced the night, just barely heralding her mad dash inside, which Eizen dodged very narrowly, and she leapt at the crippled swordsman sitting on the bed.
"Daddy!" she shrieked.
"Whoa!" Rokurou exclaimed, nearly knocked onto his back by his daughter's assault, only staying upright because Velvet caught him. "Celica," he said worriedly, putting his one good hand to her forehead, his arm stump wrapped around her as tightly as possible, "you shouldn't be running around like that. Are you feeling faint? You don't have a fever…"
Celica shook her head. "I'm all better now," she chirped. "Mommy and Eizen made the Omega Elixir for me, so I'm not sick anymore. I'm gonna get to grow up, and you're gonna train me in the Rangetsu style so I can be just like you!"
"You're…?" Rokurou's eyes widened.
"You'll still train me, right?" Celica asked anxiously. "Even without your legs, you can train me, right?"
"I…" Those copper eyes blinked rapidly. "I can't…demonstrate, but…I mean…I can instruct you…"
"Sahra is a master of the Rangetsu style, too," Eizen spoke up, smiling. "Between her and you, dad, I'm sure Cellie will learn just fine. You'll help, won't you, Sahra?"
"Sure!" Sahra replied cheerfully.
"Yay!" Celica cheered. Then she blinked. "Are you okay, daddy?" she asked. "Why are you crying? Aren't you happy?"
And Rokurou was crying, hot droplets of moisture streaming from his eyes despite what he'd said just a few minutes earlier. With a gasp, he wrapped his arms around his daughter and hugged her close, and she returned his embrace. "Yes, I'm happy, princess!" he sobbed. "I'm so happy! I never dreamed I could be so happy!" His one good hand released his daughter to reach over and pull his wife into the fray, and all three held each other, sobbing and laughing and really, truly happy.
Their audience smiled too, if awkwardly.
"Perhaps we should…give them some space," Lucine suggested.
"Yeah," Sahra agreed, "let them have their moment. Come on, Sadie."
Lucine, Sahra, and Sadie made for the door…and even though he was part of the family that was reuniting, Eizen felt inclined to leave, too. This was a moment for people whose stories were ending, or hadn't yet begun. Not for him.
Edna and Zaveid followed Eizen, and then the whole team was outside in the night air. Eizen took a deep breath, just taking in the stars twinkling watchfully overhead. "What a day," he sighed.
"Shame we didn't get to take the last of the trials," Edna commented.
"What're you talking about, babe?" Zaveid asked. "We took the Rangetsu Trial! A trial of strength, and a trial of spirit, and our boy here passed both with flying colors!"
"And got a pretty sweet reward for it, too," Sahra agreed.
"It's just a sword," Edna shrugged.
"No, Edna," Eizen said, drawing Stormhowl again, shivering at the sense of power and strength he got just from holding the ancient blade. "Stormhowl is different. Can't you tell?"
"Hmm…" Edna tilted her head at the God Blade, her face as passive as ever.
"Hey, uncle," Eizen said suddenly, "is Stormhowl imbued with wind mana?"
"Nope," the wind seraph replied readily, again tapping a finger against the metal. "There's no mana in this thing, seraphic artes aren't involved. Its power is something else entirely…actually, it kinda reminds me of the bullets I used to use for Siegfried." He chuckled. "Crazy bastards on the far continent always come up with the darnedest things…but hey, ya can't blame 'em for improvising."
"No mana?" Eizen repeated, surprised. "Can it…still channel the flames of purification?"
Zaveid frowned. "Well, let's see…" A silver ember lit on one tanned finger, and Zaveid brought it against the blade. It vanished instantly. "Whoa!" yelped the Prime Lord, jumping back. "Uh…yeah, yeah it should channel 'em pretty well. Scarily well, in fact…It almost feels like it was made to do that. Well, not purification, but seraphic energy…"
"Made to channel seraphic energy?" Eizen repeated. "But if it wasn't made with seraphic artes, how can that be?"
"Everything in the world is composed of mana of some sort," Edna stated; "it's just dormant in most things. Makes sense that some humans would develop tools meant to bring out and direct the potential power that surrounds us constantly."
"Huh." Eizen eyed the legendary weapon thoughtfully, then sheathed it. "Maybe I should…still use my katana, at least for regular fights. This feels like something that should be saved for emergencies."
"Why?" Sadie asked.
Eizen turned to the golden-haired Squire, and something stirred in his chest when he met her eyes. You saved my family. The realization hadn't really sunk in until now. "Uh…I don't know," he replied before things got awkward, "just a gut feeling."
As if on cue, his stomach growled. Everyone burst out laughing - even Sadie, if only a little.
"Ahh, I'm hungry," Eizen chuckled. "What I wouldn't give for a bowl of my mom's stew…"
"Or a slice of her quiche!" Zaveid added enthusiastically. "It's been way too long since we've gotten to taste Velvet's culinary splendor."
"Splendor?" Lucine inquired.
"Oh, that's right!" Zaveid grinned. "You ladies haven't tasted Velvet's cooking! Well, prepare yourselves. Once you've tasted a dish prepared by Velvet Rangetsu-Crowe, all other food will be as ash in your mouths!"
"I won't be tasting anything," Sahra pointed out.
"Oh, sweetie, you don't know what you're missing," Zaveid smirked. "You should definitely break your fasting habit for a chance to feast on what Velvet makes. One bite, and you'll never be the same, I can promise you that."
Somehow, all three of the girls Zaveid had been addressing managed to end up looking towards Edna.
"What?" Edna asked. "Why are you all looking at me?"
"I think they're waiting for you to stab him, big sis," Eizen laughed.
"Oh." Edna blinked dispassionately. "I can understand why you would expect that, but it is a simple fact of life that Velvet Rangetsu-Crowe is the finest chef to ever grace the world with her culinary artistry."
"Wait, really?!" Sahra gasped.
"Indeed," Edna nodded, and she turned to Zavied, giving him a pointed look. "It is also a simple fact of life that she'll probably prefer to spend time with her newly-rescued husband rather than cook for us."
"True," Zaveid conceded with a dirty smile. "Well, the inn's meals provide sustenance, at least. Not particularly useful for us seraphim, but Eizen and Sadie can get something out of it."
"I'll settle," Eizen said readily. "Let's eat, then get some sleep. We've earned it."
"We have been around the world and back again," Edna remarked in agreement as they started walking through the streets of the only town Eizen had ever seen before becoming the Shepherd. "Hard to believe it's all almost over."
"Yeah," he sighed, smiling. "It's good to be home."
~o~
The inn, it turned out, was full to bursting with refugees from Marlind, Elysia, and even the Rolance Empire, people taking shelter in the one place safe from the Lord of Calamity's rampage. Apparently, the various campers were taking turns sleeping in rooms in the inn and on the streets, tents and sleeping bags crammed around the entrance to the inn and in all sorts of alleys and nooks throughout the city, though the knights had kept them from clogging up any major trafficways. It was possible to order food at the inn, though the kitchen staff were sorely overworked, but getting even one bed to sleep in was an impossible task.
Given this, after dinner, everyone split up - Sadie had a home in Ladylake, after all, though Eizen wasn't happy about her going back to her family, and the seraphim all seemed to want to just enjoy being out and about in safety. For himself, Eizen went back to the priests' bunker. On the way, he ran into Celica, who was running around after Uno.
"What are you doing up so late, Cellie?" Eizen asked her. "You should be in bed."
"Mom and dad haven't made me go to bed yet," Celica told him, "and I hate sleeping. Until they force me, I'm gonna run around and never stop!"
"Uno," Eizen said pleadingly to the Lord of the Land.
"Don't worry, Shepherd," Uno said with a bow, "I will ensure she is safe and well. Worry about your own health."
"Thanks," Eizen mumbled, stifling a yawn, and he left his rambunctious little sister to pester the water seraph for reasons to keep moving.
At the bunker door, he stopped, realizing he was basically about to walk in on his parents' room. Nervously, he decided to put an ear to the door before barging in.
"…Maybe we can still have our little Magilou after all," he heard his father chuckle.
Velvet laughed. "You sound like Zaveid," she teased, her voice more lighthearted than Eizen could remember it being since the night Niko turned.
"Nah, see, it's different," Rokurou dismissed, "because you're my wife."
Heat rushed to Eizen's face. While he debated knocking or just walking away, he heard his father sigh.
"Hey, Velvet?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't remember a lot," Rokurou said slowly, "but…I remember…some of what you said right before everything went white. Did you really…hear me, when you were in the seal?"
"Yeah," Velvet replied. "I did. I'm sorry, Rokurou, I should have just told you."
"Why didn't you?" Eizen's father asked.
"When I was a daemon, I couldn't admit it to myself," Velvet answered sadly. "If I admitted that I'd broken out of my own will, I…I wouldn't have been able to keep hating you, because it was my own fault. And then, after we were purified…I was ashamed, that I'd used the excuse to hate you, to hurt you like I did. I didn't want to admit it. I thought it wouldn't matter."
"It wouldn't have saved me from Niko," Rokurou sighed. "Maybe it's for the best that you chose not to tell me until yesterday. Don't be sorry, Vel. We're here now, we're together again, and that's all that matters. Even the fact that I can't walk home isn't that big of a deal."
"Rokurou…home - the treehouse - it…it burned down," Velvet informed him in a pained voice, obviously thinking of how hard he'd worked to build it over the years.
"Oh." Rokurou was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Well…that doesn't matter either. You're my home, Velvet."
"And you're mine."
Less than a second of listening further told Eizen he needed to just walk away, and he did, quickly, his cheeks burning. Sleep, it seemed, was not going to be an option tonight. But that was okay; he had a lot to think about.
~X~
Edna wandered through Ladylake, avoiding the clusters of humans sleeping on the streets. Maotelus really doesn't think things through sometimes, she thought. For a Great Lord who exists to protect the world from malevolence, he can be incredibly shortsighted…Still, there were empty roads that the refugees had been ordered to stay clear from, and Edna kept to these streets, just enjoying a peaceful night within Maotelus's enhanced domain, safe from malevolence with or without a vessel.
So much had happened since the last time she'd been here; she'd forgotten how quickly events passed around a Shepherd. Reflection wasn't something Edna did very often, and now she didn't even know where to begin. They had everything they needed to stop the Lord of Calamity - apart from Lord Amenoch's blessing, which they'd get tomorrow - and then some, but there was also reason to worry that there was something bigger to be concerned about than just a Lord of Calamity. Rose was a seraph now, and Edna had a boyfriend…and yet, everything was still the same. Above, the stars were as steadfast as ever, twinkling as they always had and always would. Did the stars ever marvel at how quickly things changed, Edna found herself wondering, or did everything look the same from so far away?
Voices caught Edna's attention, and she followed them, recognizing the sounds of the Squire and the fire seraph Sub Lord having their usual late-night talk. Edna had never joined in, but maybe tonight, it would help to converse, to discuss everything they'd seen and done in the last couple of weeks.
"Hey, Edna!" Sahra called as Edna turned a corner to see Sadie and Sahra standing together.
"Hey," Edna said dully, trotting over to them. "What are you two talking about?"
"I was just talking about how surprised I am that Ladylake hasn't changed all that much," Sahra answered, though something in both her and Sadie's expressions told Edna that they were avoiding a much darker subject. "I never thought I'd be back here, you know?"
"No, seriously," Edna sighed, "what were you talking about?"
Both women flinched, and then Sahra laughed. "I guess we shouldn't try to hide anything," she said sheepishly. "Sadie?"
"I…" Sadie bit her lip. "I'm nervous about going home," she confessed. "Facing my parents."
"Then don't," Edna advised.
"But…"
"Sleep on the streets like everyone else," Edna shrugged. "If you go home, your parents will just try to fill your head with nonsense again, and you've come a long way since you left."
Sadie blinked, her expression unreadable, but before she could formulate a reply, a new, unwelcome voice cut in.
"Well, hello ladies!"
Edna groaned and turned to see Zaveid sauntering towards them.
"Y'all forget to invite me to your little get-together?" he smirked. "That's cold, y'know."
"You wouldn't want to join us, Zaveid," Sahra chuckled. "We're just having a little girl talk, and I don't think you speak that language."
Zaveid laughed. "Fair enough," he conceded.
The Prime Lord's smile was casual, easygoing, and for a moment, Edna thought he might actually just walk by and leave them alone. Then, after he'd taken a few steps as though to pass them, he suddenly stopped short, and the next thing Edna knew, he was leaning against the wall right in front of them, wearing a cocky smile that seemed much too wide.
"You know, babes," he said, a bit loudly, "we did a good thing today. Against all odds, we saved a husband and father and brought him back to his family." His evil smile stretched even further. "What say you we celebrate by making a family of our own?" he asked in a dirty tone.
"But - but I thought seraphim didn't breed?" Sadie asked in a squeak.
"We don't," Zaveid smirked nastily, "but we can do the fun part. Who's with me?"
Sadie whimpered, and Sahra folded her arms, but Edna narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously - Zaveid was gross, but he wasn't usually this forward about it. What are you up to…?
"Just out of pure curiosity, and not because there was any chance this was going to happen," Sahra said coldly, "what exactly were your plans if more than one of us said yes?"
"Well, the more the merrier!" Zaveid shrugged, his lips stretching even further in a wicked grin. "Let's make it a party. Whaddaya say?"
"And why isn't Lucine invited to this party?" Edna asked, raising her voice to make sure she'd be heard over Sahra's grunt of utter disgust.
For the briefest of split seconds, Zaveid flinched - it happened so fast, Edna doubted anyone who didn't know him particularly well would have noticed, but she didn't miss it, and she knew she'd been right about where this was coming from.
"Ah, well, you know," he shrugged, recovering, "Lucine…she's not really my type."
"I thought every girl was your type," Edna said dully.
"I thought everything even remotely female was your type!" Sahra added.
"Nah," Zaveid dismissed. "Lucine is…well…y'know, she's…" He fumbled for a moment, and Edna heard everything he didn't say: Too pure. Too perfect. Too good for me. "…delicate," he finished at last. "Fragile, y'know? I'd just break her to pieces." His voice deepened huskily. "Give me a real woman any d-"
"Quit it," Edna snapped, stabbing him in the gut and forcing him to double over, cutting him off. "You're not fooling anyone." She turned her back, opening her umbrella and twirling it over her shoulder. "Let's go, girls."
"Right behind you," Sahra grumbled. "Come on, Sadie."
As they walked away from the disgusting Prime Lord, Edna only vaguely registered the sounds of Sahra assuring Sadie that yes, it was absolutely okay to turn down a proposition from a seraph; her mind's eye was consumed by the scene they were leaving behind. Edna didn't have to look back to see Zaveid straighten back up, shrug as casually as possible, turn around, and then pretend to have only just noticed Lucine standing at the crossroads behind him, having borne witness to the entire exchange. She didn't have to read the vibrations in the ground beneath her feet to know the way Zaveid walked towards the water seraph, his expression blank, then deliberately turned his back to her at that crossroads and took a different path, as though she didn't interest him at all, as though she wasn't good enough even for his infinitesimally low standards. And Edna didn't have to see the look on Zaveid's face to know the pain that lanced through him with every step he took, as he told himself that it was for the best, that he would only hurt her, that he couldn't let her get attached to him, that she had to understand who he was, that making her hate him now was only protecting her from the agony of heartbreak later.
What an idiot, Edna thought, sighing inwardly. He's really committed to staying this way. If he's going to fight to hold onto his misery like this, I might have to take drastic measures…
Suddenly, Edna wanted nothing more than to get away from all of it. Grunting an abrupt farewell to Sahra and Sadie, she broke off from them and left to find her baby brother on foot, as though he wasn't her vessel. It was silly, but she couldn't take it anymore; just for the rest of the night, she wanted to pretend that everything was as it had been.
~X~
The Ladylake Sanctuary was completely empty, much to Eizen's relief. He wouldn't try to sleep there, but he sat down cross-legged behind the altar that had held the Sacred Blade, cupped his hands in front of his navel, and turned all his focus inwards. There was a lot for him to sort through, and somehow, he had the sense that there was something important he was overlooking in all the chaos of the day's events.
Saving his father, and passing the trial his father had set forth after waking up, was a tremendous ordeal, of course, but as he sifted through the emotions he'd gone through trying to save the ancient swordsman, he found it all to be heavy, but straightforward. The fight with his father was less straightforward - he couldn't help dwelling on the calm euphoria he'd felt giving his all in the battle, and the way his father had declared him a true Rangetsu for feeling it; the revelation about what sort of traditions the Rangetsu Clan had practiced was appalling, and Eizen wondered if he should be worried that he was so susceptible to that kind of bloodlust…but in the end, though he did need to take some time to sort through his feelings on the subject, that wasn't what was really bothering him either, it wasn't the source of that nagging he felt at the back of his mind as he tried to pinpoint what seemed so vital, so easily overlooked.
Narrowing it down took a sustained time of slow, careful consideration, but eventually, he reached it. Just as his blood ran cold with the implications, he sensed a steady, reliable presence sit down next to him.
"Edna," he said distantly, rising from his meditative trance.
"What are you doing here, Eizen?" Edna asked him as he opened his eyes and met her gaze.
"Mom and dad are…uh…busy, with the priests' bunker," Eizen replied sheepishly. "I didn't want to bother them."
"Oh." Edna barely blinked in response.
Eizen sighed. "Listen, Edna," he said, "there's something that happened today that's bugging me - more so than everything else, I mean. Something Niko said."
"It would have been her fault if Rokurou died, not yours," Edna told him readily; "without malevolence, he could easily have lived a full life."
"Yeah, I know," Eizen assured her. "That's not it. It's something she said when…when she told her dragons to stop us from taking dad through the barrier."
Edna tilted her head. "Fethmus Mioma and Lusrov Rulay are Lailah and Mikleo's true names," she stated.
"I figured as much," Eizen nodded. "But that's not it either."
"What, then?"
"Edna," Eizen asked seriously in response, "have you ever heard of something called the First Shadow?"
She blinked, with the kind of surprise that suggested the term meant something to her. Then she replied, "That's weird, your father asked me that same question the night before Cellie's birthday. At the time, I had to answer no, because that was the first time I'd ever heard of it. I thought it didn't mean anything. Why are you asking about it?"
"Why did my dad ask you about it?" Eizen questioned, alarmed.
"Velvet had a nightmare," Edna shrugged.
"Did she tell you what the nightmare was?" Eizen pressed. Something told him the answer would be vital to the entire future of his quest.
"Yeah," Edna replied. "She said she was in the night sky, but all the stars around her, though they looked like stars, were actually teeth, so the sky was a big mouth that was about to chew us all up. Then she heard a voice that she said sounded like it was trying to be comforting…and something about how she couldn't really understand it, but she also knew exactly what it was trying to say."
"And what did it say?"
"It said, 'Your blood will hear the First Shadow, and all will be clear,'" Edna answered.
Chills ran down Eizen's spine. "That's…ominous," he observed slowly.
"That's what I said," Edna informed him, "but Velvet insisted that the voice that said that was trying to comfort her somehow."
Eizen shook his head. "'Your blood will hear the First Shadow'…" he repeated. "And then Niko became the Lord of Calamity…Maybe it meant her? Is…is the First Shadow some other term for malevolence?"
"I don't think so," Edna replied. "Even if it was, why would that be comforting?"
"I don't know," Eizen admitted, and he ran a hand through his shaggy hair, pulling several strands loose from his short ponytail, which he'd trimmed while waiting for his father to wake up.
"So where's this coming from?" Edna inquired. "Where did you hear about it?"
"Niko," Eizen answered. "When she commanded Lailah and Mikleo to stop us, she said she was commanding them 'in the name of the First Shadow'."
"That's right!" Edna gasped, and she shook her head. "How do you remember this stuff, baby brother?"
"I focus," Eizen replied seriously. "And I can't shake the feeling that it's significant. I mean, if the First Shadow is something that allows Niko to control Lailah and Mikleo, maybe it has something to do with how Forsea was able to recognize Zaveid, and even how Niko was able to corrupt the holy tree in Marlind." He frowned. "But what could it be? A…A source of malevolence, maybe? Or an origin?"
"I don't think malevolence has an origin," Edna commented. "I mean, we know about the curse cast by the Heavenly Realm, but I've never heard of anything called the First Shadow in that story."
"No," Eizen shook his head, "it would make more sense for it to be something else entirely…It's like we suspected in Gododdin, Edna: there's something more going on here - something we don't know about, but Niko does. And I don't feel comfortable forging ahead knowing that there's a factor I don't understand. If we don't know what Niko has on her side, how can we fight back?"
"Well, it's like Sahra said during that same conversation in Gododdin: If it's really that important, we'll find out about it sooner or later," Edna pointed out. "Besides, whatever it might be, there's nothing we can do about it other than take the Water Trial and get the last blessing we need to stand up to Niko; once we do that, we'll be able to stop her no matter what she has going on. Even if I don't know what the First Shadow is, one thing I do know is that there's nothing in this world more powerful than the Five Lords."
"I know, but…" Eizen shook his head again, as though to dislodge the uncertainty from his mind. "I'm worried, Edna. We're missing something, something important, and I don't know what it is. How can we be ready if we don't know what we're up against?"
"Maybe we can't," Edna said dully. "Do we have to be? We're the only ones who can stop the Lord of Calamity, and you've already decided you believe in stopping her."
"Yeah," Eizen sighed, and he suddenly couldn't withhold a yawn.
Edna chuckled. "Get some sleep, baby brother," she advised him. "Use your cloak as a pillow and lie down right here. Don't worry, I'll stand guard and make sure no humans bother you."
"Thanks, big sis," Eizen sighed, already doing as she'd suggested - he was tired.
As he settled down with his cloak cushioning his head, he felt Edna's hand on his arm.
"I love you, baby brother," she told him softly.
"I love you too, big sis," he replied.
And maybe, just maybe, terrible unknown looming over them or not, that would be enough.
As of this chapter, I've decided to do something fun; I'm adding in the names and descriptions of the trophies that would be earned over the course of the main story if this was a game. I have retroactively added them to multiple previous chapters (parts 4, 6, 9, 13, 14, and 16), and for this chapter, the trophy earned would be thus: [image of the hand bearing the glove adorned with the mark of the Shepherd holding Stormhowl's hilt] "Inheritance" - Proof of overcoming an old trial of your ancestors and finding your answer. As a Shepherd and as a swordsman, your resolve will never falter again.