Chapter 81: Original Son
By SodiumChlouride12, derived from Fire Emblem, owned by Nintendo.
A/N: They nerfed my main in my second favorite game. I am sad.
I'll let y'all speculate what this first section's about. I'm sure the last chapter is making y'all ask some questions.
...?
"Damnit...damnit..."
Samuel clutched his head, his hands brushing over some recently placed bandages. He felt nauseated, and wracked with a substantial headache, but that was the last thing on his mind. Looking around him, he saw the blankets on his lower body, the beige fabric of the walls, and the familiar red carpet on the ground. He shifted his gaze to his fingers, which colored red from the crimson of his wound.
"I just...I had her in my grasp. She died in my arms...and I did, too. Florina..." Overcome with emotion, he covered his face. "I'm so sorry...Florina. I couldn't save you. I can't save anybody..."
Tears formed in his eyes, and his hands dripped as they proved unable to hold the volume. His mind scattered as the painful, traumatic experience resonated through every pore of his soul, an inevitability given the recency of it. He recalled the frantic retreat of his battered army through the thick snow, the cries for help as the enemy ruthlessly cut them down, and finally, his expiration as he and his beloved froze under an Ilian deep freeze. They held hands as they shared their final moment, and he still remembered Florina's last words.
"I...love...you, Samuel. My only regret...is that we...couldn't spend more time together."
Samuel's heart was heavy, like his veins coursed molasses instead of blood. He muttered, "I've seen her die many times...and yet, the feeling never subsides. Am I doomed to a never-ending cycle of pain and misery? I...I don't know how much more I can take of this. These accursed resets."
Samuel's eyes shifted over towards a nearby storage chest, where his watch rested. It belonged to Lyndis, whose ger served as his checkpoint every time he bit the dust. He'd been here hundreds...thousands of times before. He grew to hate the bland, simplistic nature of the abode, partly due to the face he has since associated with the injustice of this world. One belonging to Lyn, a blue blood mixed woman who would inevitably come to greet him.
Samuel felt a sting of pain from an unfamiliar area; his right arm. He shifted his body and saw the scarring of what used to be a long gash. He frowned at the sight, but it was to be expected. Despite his timepiece's efficiency, occasionally, a shy scar would bleed over from a previous timeline to the next. So far, the scars hadn't produced much to worry about, though Samuel understood that eventually, that would change as they built up. One day, he would likely reset into a mess of scars and Elimine-knew-what-else, representing an obstacle to the rhythm the young man had long grown accustomed to.
I'll have to plan for this. He thought while yanking his cloth over the scar. I need...a contingency plan. Something to keep my will on this earth when my body becomes something less than amicable...
"Oh? You're awake!"
Lyn appeared from the same room she always did and wore the same smile of considerable innocence. She walked over to his side and rested her hand over his head, Samuel relaxing as he allowed her. For a moment, Samuel wondered how she could share the same bloodline as the nobles that caused him so many problems through his trials, but he shook the thought away. He had decided long ago how he was going to treat the noble-to-be. Friendly, but not too close. Respectful, but unloving. He'll close himself off and establish barriers she'll never be able to break, his efforts relegating her to a status never greater than an acquaintance. Despite his feelings, he could not afford to antagonize her. She shared a close friendship with Florina, and he had to accept that Lyn would always hold an important, if marginal, role in his life.
Lyn said, "I'm glad to see you're okay! I found you unconscious by a river while I was hunting. You gave me quite a scare."
Samuel faked a smile and feigned gratitude. He had spent endless lifetimes learning how to fake emotions, since his endless resets have since removed most of his ability to do so. The only exception comes under the most extreme of cases, such as in death, frustration, or love. Strangely, that last emotion hadn't been affected much, though he still responded normally when flustered.
Heh...I suppose my mother was right. She always said love was the last feeling to go.
He said, "I should've died, but you saved me. You have my thanks...truly."
Samuel bowed respectfully, and the gesture caused Lyn to blush a bit from embarrassment. "It was no problem at all! In fact, I was a little glad to see you. I've been...lonely lately." She shakes herself from that line. "Erm...anyway, what is your name? Do you have a trade?"
"My name...it's Samuel. I'm a tactician by trade, and a very good one at that."
"Oh! Well, you'll have to tell me your story! A man of your attire looks like a foreigner. Surely, you must–"
As if on cue, a noise caught Lyn, but not Samuel, off guard. It was from the bandits that had descended from the mountains, and Samuel looked Lyn's way, waiting for her to inevitably leave to address it. Samuel was long familiar with this series of events, and he spent the talking time thinking about strategies needed to defeat them.
Lyn picked up a nearby sword. "Excuse me, I think I heard something."
She dashed outdoors, leaving Samuel alone. He got up from his bed and made his way to Lyn's storage chest. Opening it, he sorted through the rusted weapons, tools, and other junk to find what he was looking for. His pristine silver watch, which still ticked with life. Seeing it brought Samuel some relief.
"Thank the Creator." He muttered. "I still have it...and it works. Thousands of resets already...and it shows no signs of wear. I know I still have many opportunities to accomplish the future I want...but how many?"
Samuel sighed and brought the timepiece close to his chest. He scrubbed away countless memories of his many painful demises, and replaced them with the silent reassurances. He removed the darkness of despair and put in the brightness of a new dawn. He eliminated the crushing disappointment of failure and allowed his confidence to reign true. He allowed the image of Florina's still, frozen form to vibrate with blissful life, as if sunlight had breathed new purpose into her. This was the same routine he took every time he started over in his quest to best the dark sorcerer and the heavy-handed goddess that made his success an inevitability.
Samuel held his hand tight, and acting like his foes could see him, he held it high. "I will succeed. As long as I have my wits, I will succeed. As long as I can come back and build on my previous attempts, I will succeed. That is my creed, and it is all I need. I will not stop until both myself and this whole world are free..."
Present...
Florina looks at the surrounding environment with surprise. "This place...it's...changed."
Her words can be described as a stark understatement. The long, confined spaces of the temple has been replaced with an ominous, spooky mansion. Darkness creeps at every corner, and cobwebs cover much of the light furnishings of the main hall. A series of doors stand idle, high on the floor above, as does a single, large entrance near the center of the bottom level.
Lyn walks over and touches a vase with her sword. It tips over, but oddly, doesn't break. In fact, it hardly makes a sound, a baffling sight given the vase's brittle composition and hollowed interior.
"So unusual." She says while picking the vase up from the ground. "I would have expected it to shatter."
"Urgh...I would have expected the poison to take more time to go its course..."
Erk lurches forward and almost hits the ground had it not been for Fiora's quick reactions. Pent and Serra follow suit, the same sickness inflicting them.
Lyn says, "What? We shouldn't be feeling ill for at least another couple hours!"
The group acts hastily to set their magic users in as comfortable of a position as possible. They set Erk against a wall, Pent on a chair, and Serra in a makeshift mat made from seat cushions. Lyn takes note of the situation, while handing them water to abate their thirst.
Pent musters a weak smile. "A good soul, you are. I'm sorry to trouble you. It feels as though the mana in my system has been flushed out."
Serra raises her brow. "Really? I feel the exact same way! How about you, Erky?"
Erk rolls his eyes amid his graying face. "I really don't...like it when you...call me that." He coughs. "But, yes. I do feel the same way. I hadn't felt this since...we stumbled upon that magic seal."
The magic seal. Lyn remembers when it appeared in the midst of their battle on the isle. None of the army's magic users were able to bear the force of it for long, save for Samuel. Lyn found that detail interesting given his own magical abilities, but she knew he possessed a high resistance and tolerance for pain. Samuel had stomached worse, but she doubts her friends can do the same.
Lyn sighs and motions Hawkeye over to her. "Hawkeye, can you lead the magic users back outside? I fear we're under a seal, and they can't contribute much, I'm afraid."
Pent says, "A seal? But, shouldn't the air have a different aura to it? I've read somewhere that it should have a red hue, but I don't see that here."
Lyn nods, "Yes, but I think this temple's owners might have distorted our reality to eliminate it. We already know this mansion has no business being here, yet it is."
Hearing Lyn talk drives Serra up from the ground. Color rapidly evaporates from her face, and she's eager to leave. "I'll take that as my cue to go. Forgive me but, I cannot bear this any longer. I'll pray for your safety, but that is all I can do."
She tugs on Erk's cloak. He's hesitant to go. "Let's go, Erky. You're less handsome when your face looks like that."
"I...won't...I want to...help..."
Pent says, "Ease yourself, my student. I will be leaving as well. We cannot aid in our allies' endeavors, and we will only slow them down. Come. Our friends on the surface are probably trying to make their way down here, and we will receive them."
Erk raises a finger to protest, but his resistance subsides. He lowers his head and slings his arm over Hawkeye, who has the strength to carry them both.
"I suppose...this is it. Good luck, you all. I hope you succeed."
Then the four of them depart. The group watches them fade into the passageway behind them, and Lyn takes a head count. She, Florina, Fiora, Heath, Legault and Wil make up their party of six. Roaming through a dungeon while lacking healers or magical support is a huge risk, but one they're forced to take.
Heath and Florina take the lead. Heath says, "Allow us to take charge. We have no armor, but we will do what we must."
Lyn agrees, "All right. I will form the center while Legault and Florina take the wings. Wil will provide assistance from afar..."
Content with their formation, Lyn points her sword forward. "Onward! We're fighting for our lives, so give it all you got!"
Nearby...
"Master, our guests approach."
Piret bows before his liege, the red-robed figure looking over his observation crystal. They're in a small room hidden somewhere in the temple. Cracked stone lines the walls, and an assortment of scientific instruments litter the space. Books with grayed text are splayed over the table holding the crystal, and a single candle supplements the luminous light provided by it. Simply said, the entire scene holds the atmosphere of controlled chaos.
Kishuna shifts his gaze away from his crystal and towards his subordinate. His face contorts with displeasure. "I told you not to bow before me, Piret. That's something commoners do towards their royals, and I'm haven't a single drop of blue blood in my veins. Stand up and face me like the man you are."
"Of course."
Piret obliges. Content with the gesture, Kishuna looks back towards his crystal. He sees the group led by Lyn traverse through the interior of his projection, the haunted mansion. They're in the midst of battle against the assortment of creatures and soldiers under his control.
Piret asks, "Do you want me to split them up further as you had planned?"
Kishuna nods his head, his mind processing hundreds of possible scenarios that could occur. Satisfied with the way the situation is developing, he waves his butler away...
"Yes. Ensure that their leader heads towards my chamber. I'm confident that my troops will persevere, but I want to deal with her myself."
"Eeeek!"
Florina leaps with fright as a large, green spider emerges from underneath the floorboards. Its teeth leak with venom, and its many eyes hungrily look over the young girl. Its fur moves lazily over its wolf-sized body.
"S-Somebody! P-Please h-help me!"
"Florina! Get behind me!"
Heath zooms through the air, his lance making impact with the vile creature. The force of his strike nearly cuts it in two and creates an explosion of organic matter. To both knights' displeasure, residual matter splashes onto them. Florina frowns with disgust as she feels the icky exterior of her dress.
"I'm...c-covered in...yuck..."
It takes every ounce of strength to keep Heath from retching. "You...and me both. Forget about the poison. You have to be one messed up fuck for anybody to think creating that was a good idea."
Fortunately for Florina, the sheer volume of the...substance isn't large enough to present much harm to her, or to even pose much of a nuisance. It is the mere thought that this...is okay. What type of deranged, immoral being are they dealing with?
Lyn approaches the duo, her eyes cringing as she observes her friend and ally. "What...happened…?"
Heath meekly wipes off some of the substance from his lance. "Don't talk about it." He shifts his gaze toward Lyn and spies Wil behind her. "More importantly, where's Fiora and Legault? They were with you earlier."
Lyn raises her brow and turns around. To her surprise, she only sees Wil, who is gasping for air. He's had a busy day picking off all sorts of beasts with his bow, and the labor is exhausting.
"Wil, where is...?"
"I...don't know. They...must have gotten separated. Forgive me, Lyndis. I spent...so much time protecting you that I lost focus on my surroundings."
Heath frowns, his eyes attempting the peer through the surrounding darkness. Astonishingly, the whole atmosphere has changed in a subtle way. A fog has set in and the torches providing light on the walls dimmed in intensity. Even the walls seem to have enclosed inches closer, contorted by some unknown entity. This realization causes a chill to travel down the Bernese knight's spine.
"This place...it's so eerie. We must stick together. I sense that the mansion wishes to separate us."
Lyn nods her head, her body sensing a shift in the air's temperature. "Affirmative. Everyone, come within an arm's grasp. If the mansion does wish to rid itself of us, we'll make the task as hard as possible."
Florina shivers as Lyn grabs ahold of her hand. Her eyes dart across the hallway in a vain attempt to locate their lost friends. "L-Lyn? Is...my sister going to be okay?"
Lyn feels her chest tighten, like a weight has just been placed on them. She can only muster the strength to silently nod. Thing is, she can't know for sure if Fiora or Legault are okay. They may be somewhere far away, dealing with threats unrelated to them. Or perhaps they may be dead. Consumed into the endless void of this accursed place.
"All right, let's get a move on. We have to—"
!
A crack echoes through the hallway. The sound causes the party to pause in their tracks. They stare at each other, and then around for the source. Several moments pass, and just when they think it isnn't a cause for worry, another crack follows. Then another. Then another. A long sequence of cracks radiate through the hallway, getting louder with each sequence.
Heath exclaims, "What is that?!"
Wil jumps forward in front of Lyn. "Milady, watch out!"
Suddenly, a large opening forces its way through the floor, much like an earthquake of deafening magnitude. The wooden floorboards give way like butter, and it hardly gives the party a moment to react. Lyn, Florina and Wil fall through it into the pitch black, leaving Heath behind in the air on his steed.
"...Oh my..."
Heath can only stare as the floorboards close up again. Then, it's like nothing's ever happened. The mansion returns to its earlier state of mystery, except now he's stranded without a friend to call upon.
Hyperion whimpers as he lands on the ground. Working to hold on to the last shred of confidence he has left, Heath strokes the wyvern's neck. He makes sure to hold his lance tight, his eyes always on the lookout for more signs of danger.
"...Damn. I guess just us now..."
...?
"...Ugh..."
Lyn opens her eyes and winces when her bones ache with pain. It becomes evident that she'd taken a fall, and a long one at that. Looking around, she sees Wil and Florina lying unconscious on the mossy, cobblestone floor. To her relief, Florina is fine, absent of serious injuries. The same cannot be said for Wil.
Despite her discomfort, Lyn rushes over to his side. He'd fallen awkwardly onto the ground, with his head bleeding profusely. Lyn does her best to alleviate his suffering, but with no medical supplies, it's a tall order. All she can do is apply a makeshift bandage to his head.
"I'm so sorry, Wil. This is all I can do..."
To her surprise, Wil answers back. A small smile appears on his bloodied lips. "It's okay, milady. I apologize for being a burden on you."
Lyn lowers her head. Her archer's words produce a weird feeling within her. She feels like she's undeserving of this treatment. Had she not been royalty, Wil would have simply thanked her for the help. But, as her liege, Wil feels obligated to apologize. This is something Lyn's never gotten used to, and a part of her wishes she remained the simple nomad girl she'd always known.
"You...mustn't apologize for such things. You are my friend, Wil. This is what friends do."
"...Friends are hard to come by for royals, are they? I'm...pleased to have the privilege to be yours..."
Wil spoke the truth. In her time on court, every noble she came across always had an agenda in mind. Every social gathering, every proposed collaboration, and every feigned friendship had the hope that one day, she would give her hand in marriage, alongside her kingdom, to some ambitious prince. But, she knew that even with her looks and personality, these people didn't want her. They wanted her land, her castle and ultimately, power. That was the law of nobility, and that's how it had always been.
Lyn smiles. She likes Wil. He is an honest friend, and a good person. The only shame is that she was also his boss, and her position meant they could never be genuine friends. Despite their words.
"I...feel privileged as well. Can you stand?"
"...No. I think I broke a bone on the way down. Blast, I can't see a damn thing. Where...are we?"
Lyn looks around, and to her shock realizes that her eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness, the space was still pitch black. Not a single thing could be seen, but she could feel the warmth and hear every movement of her friends
"I...don't know..."
Lyn hears a ruffling of clothes nearby, and she assumes it to be Florina waking up. She turns around, and her friend is conscious. But there's something off about her. She stares at a space off in the distance, her eyes bulging in what Lyn can only guess to be either fear or utter blankness.
"Florina?"
!
A voice cuts through the darkness. It's older...but possesses an odd accent. Lyn finds it vaguely familiar. "...Your friend has seen me. I suppose I should reveal myself."
A pair of red eyes appear alongside a dark silhouette. Its form comes into view as it approaches the group's small circle. Its sight draws some confusion from Lyn and Wil, while Florina yelps in fright.
"K-K-Kishuna!"
The figure has an ominous look to him. He wears red robes, large and hardly fitting him, alongside draping covering nearly his entire face. His skin appears gray and clammy, and his lips are drawn in a blood-red hue. His stature is of above-average height, though not outright tall. His frail build and older appearance suggested he is a weaker, if not wiser, being.
Lyn draws her sword and readies her posture. Wary of the guest's presence, she tries to keep distance between him and them. "Florina! You know this...person?"
Florina hastily nods her head, but her fear prevents her from speaking. She stands behind Lyn, unable to draw her weapon to her friend's, or even her own, defense.
Lyn exclaims, "You! Are you another minion of the master of this temple? Or, worse yet, are you the man himself?"
"...I am no one's master. These...superficial labels your society brings upon themselves to assign superiority...don't exist here."
Lyn feels her heart skip a beat, like the man's words caused a jolt of electricity to course through her veins. Her posture sways a bit, but she recovers her bearing quickly.
"Do not speak in riddles! Tell me who you are! Or...I'll...I'll..."
Kishuna chuckles, his voice expressing arrogant confidence. "You'll do what?" He walks closer, and places his gloved hand on Lyn's sword, the Mani Katti. With one swift motion, and shocking strength, he yanks it from her hands.
Lyn's eyes go wide, and she stares down upon her calloused hands. "H...How? You just..."
The clang of metal shakes her from her thoughts. Looking up, she notices that Kishuna has thrown the weapon to her feet, presumably to return it. Lyn picks it up.
"I...don't know where I should feel insulted or grateful."
"...Don't wave that weapon at me again. All I wish to do is talk. I understand you Sacaens are not the social bunch, but at least stave your aggression and sheathe your weapon."
"Your tone isn't appreciated. What do you know about the plains folk? I find no reason to open myself to attack."
"...You cocky little girl. Do you wish for me to repeat that previous scene again? I'll be happy to oblige."
The two stare at each other, like shooters in a standoff. They size each other up for a moment, Kishuna's cocky elitism clashing with Lyn's Sacaean stubbornness. Eventually, Florina gathers the strength to put an end to this, her curiosity taking the better of her.
"...Uhm. Lyn, I think we should...listen to him."
Lyn opens her mouth to protest, but after a glance at her friend's pleading eyes, her sword begins to feel heavy in her hands. She relents, and after what feels like an eternity, finally sheathes her sword. She'd submitted to Kishuna's request, and in turn relinquishes any ability to defend herself.
Folding her arms over her chest, Lyn asks, "Now, how about answering my questions? Or, are you just going to spend this time thinking of ways to kill us?"
"...Tell me, Lyndis. Do you know how fortunate you are?"
"...What?"
"Do you know how fortunate you are? To possess a position and power wealth?"
Lyn raises her brow. "What type of question is that? Of course I know how fortunate I am. Who do you take me for?"
Kishuna shakes his head. "But...you don't understand, do you? You possess power, and the means to wield it. One day, your grandfather will leave this earth, and you alone will be responsible for the lives of thousands. In many ways, you own them. These peasants."
"I...don't know what you mean. How...do you know my grandfather?"
Kishuna ignores Lyn's question, and the bottom of his lip turns into a nasty scowl. "Don't play dumb with me. Every noble knows that their subjects have to follow them, no matter what. Their whole lives revolve around you. Those peasants? They wake up every morning at dawn and perform backbreaking work until dusk so you may eat their food. Your soldiers? They'll gladly lay down their lives to protect you. Your servants shake in fear to displease you, as their wellbeing rides on your good mood."
Kishuna turns away from Lyn, his face writhing with all sorts of emotion. His strained voice shakes with passion. "And for what? They're not serving you to preserve some national myth. They aren't serving you for their country, or even themselves. They do it because of a ranking system instilled into their minds since birth. The hierarchy of feudalism perpetuates their exploitation, and the worst thing is...they don't even know it. The idea of "everyone serves someone else" has been around for as long as kings reigned over this land, and the church only reinforces this belief every time they go to worship."
A ball of flame appears over Kishuna's head. It's not hostile, but its intensity rises with his anger. "You truly reside within the privileged class. It's one thing to accept a life of subsistence, if even that. But, it's another to live a life where your thoughts aren't even your own. Where your labor goes to enrich someone else. Where your same, dull, impoverished lifestyle will never improve because bone-headed nobles would rather go to war than invest in their own people. This is the reality shared by many common folk. It's a shame, don't you think? No matter how hard you work, you can never break out of this never-ending cycle of exploitation. Not even your children can escape this fate."
Kishuna faces Lyn again, his red eyes piercing through the dark atmosphere. "Are you even listening?"
Lyn stands there, dumbfounded. Memories of the commoners she'd seen in her travels appear in her mind. She remembers the city of Badon and recalls the difficult conditions endured by its populace. The memories of street urchins robbing merchants, sick beggars suffering near the curbside, and the brutality of the arena especially comes to mind. She remembers the countless acres of farmland and sprawling villages. Her heart feels a sting of pity as she remembers the backbreaking work conducted by them on a daily-basis, and she juxtaposes that to her own privileged circumstances...
She looks up at Kishuna, and oddly, she finds herself understanding him. There were many moments in Caelin when she heard nobles in court snicker or look down at the populace. They truly viewed themselves as superior to them, though for Lyn...she doesn't know what to think. She feels conflicted, as the blue blood in her system clashes with her nomadic upbringing.
"...I...I don't know."
"You don't know?! You see, this is the very issue with you nobles. There is no compromising with this land's upper class. You will do whatever is in your power to hang onto it for as long as possible. No...there is only one way for this land's people to be free. We have to take it! We have to take the power held from the master's hands! By force if we have t–"
Kishuna pauses mid-sentence and then brings his hands back to a comfortable position above his waist. He stands there for a bit, calming his breathing. The fire burning hot near him subsides as well. He shakes his head. "...My apologies...I went on another rant. Piret warned me to avoid doing that. I...oh...I really beat you down."
He notices tears form over Lyn's eyes. She turns her face to hide it, but the effort is in vain. The sight makes Kishuna feel sorry, if only a little.
"...Ahem...I should get back on topic. I stand here as a man who seeks to accomplish the same goal as you. Nergal...must be stopped."
Lyn wipes her tears from her face and composes herself. "Nergal? You know of the dark sorcerer?"
"There are many things I know. Do not ask how I do, as I do not wish to reveal why. But, I am very familiar with Nergal. Painfully so."
His voice quivers briefly, and Lyn senses an immense amount of trauma behind it. She can't understand what the man has gone through, but she understands it to be very serious. Regardless, she presses forward. She asks, "What...do you know of him?"
"I've known him for a very long time. I suppose you could say I share a...special relationship with him."
"...How so?"
Kishuna raises his left arm and rolls down his sleeve, revealing his bare flesh. Lyn, Florina, and Wil flinch as they observe the long, terrible scars all across his grayed, nearly inanimate skin. Coupled with the series of burn marks, the group correctly surmises he has had a long history of combat. This detail isn't lost on Kishuna.
"Look at this long and hard. This is what happens to a man who's spent countless lifetimes trying to put a stop to that man's madness. Nergal...is my worst enemy. I must stop him, and this is my last opportunity to do it before he ends the world."
Did...Nergal cause those wounds? Lyn thought. She struggled to visualize the atrocities the dark sorcerer forced him to endure, but she could understand the brutality of suffering under the hands of a malicious organization. The Taliver had ensured that.
Florina jumps up from behind Lyn. Initially, she's eager to get her message known, but her anxiety complicated it. "...But...who...are you? You're...a m-magic seal."
"I...can see it in your eyes. You think I'm not human. Well, from a biological perspective...I suppose you could say that. I am a morph, created by the very same man I swore to destroy."
He lifts his hood, and he reveals his face to the trio. To their astonishment, despite the earlier display, his eyes aren't red in color but rather a soothing dark brown. He has straight, thinning black hair slicked back with oil. To Lyn, his likeness is vaguely familiar, though she doesn't understand why. Perhaps there is a glimmer to him, a remnant of what remained of a once handsome face. Those eyes...where have I seen them before?
Kishuna continues, "I was not created as a magic seal. It was an ability, albeit unwillingly, obtained during my trials of adversity. I was once a mage who wielded powerful ice magics, and I had the wit to command the armies of nations. In some ways, you could say I was very much human. I feel emotions, possess ambition, a soul, and I even fathered a family with the love of my life. But...those memories were long ago. Back when my body hadn't sustained so much damage, and my heart hadn't grown numb to the pain."
Lyn says, "What's the point of telling us all these things, Kishuna? If we have the same goal, then why go through this much effort to tell us? Why put us in unnecessary danger? We could have joined forces if you only approached us and made your intentions known. We've accepted many good people into our ranks..."
"Well, that's just the thing. People. You have such faith in your friends to take over the hump, but it's the human element that's at fault here. Believe me when I say this, milady. I've simulated your endeavor thousands...no...millions of times. Do you wish to know your odds of success?"
The mention of statistical terms catches Lyn off guard. Analytics like these are unfamiliar to her ear, though she knew Samuel liked to use them to sway the tide of battle in pivotal moments. "We have a safer bet if we attacked from the East," he'd say. Or "We have a fifty percent chance of causing a rout if we initiate a cavalry charge at this point." Once, Samuel used so much jargon that Hector told him to "shut up and speak Elibean." After that, the tactician decided to dumb down his speech a little, but his nerdy demeanor never left.
Lyn feels a sting of sadness from that thought. He was an arrogant little book boy. But he was MY book boy.
Lyn says, "What are they?"
"...0.0001%. A fraction of a single percent, or in the gaze of uncertainty, basically zero. In nine hundred thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine attempts, you don't succeed at all. Your journey is destined for failure. You, and every single one of your friends are fated to die at Nergal's hands."
The trio breaks into gasps. For a brief moment, they try to persuade themselves that Kishuna is lying to them. But his knowledge of information they already know to be true, along with his statistical evidence that's too detailed to be falsified, shakes them from this. The air around the group transforms into the essence of defeatism, and Lyn's posture weakens as her legs turn into jelly.
Lyn grips the handle of her sword. I...can't give up! She grits her teeth and feels strength return to her form. "I...no...we cannot afford to give up. I don't care about the odds. As long as there is a chance, there is a way for us to save this world. I don't care what your numbers say, Kishuna. My heart says we are capable of succeeding, and we will."
Florina and Wil smile when they hear their leader speak with confidence. "Let's go, Lyn!" Wil mutters. "I know we can win!" Likewise, Florina nods her head. "Y-Yes...I will follow you, Lady Lyn. We will...beat him."
Kishuna's face goes expressionless, though Lyn can detect a light frown leaving his lips. He raises his hood over his head. "I figured you would say that. Lady Lyn, draw your sword."
"...Why?"
"I am an honorable man, and I live by a moral compass that I don't care to violate. I intend to kill you all now, but I will allow you to defend yourself. You have thirty seconds."
"What?!"
Lyn draws her sword in one swift motion. A bead of sweat drips down the side of her face, and her blood runs hot with adrenaline. Confused, she exclaims, "Why do you want to kill us?! Are we not hoping to accomplish the same purpose?"
"We are, but I do not trust that you will succeed. The thing is, you humans are very unreliable. You can spend years working on a plan, but it only takes one instance of human error to cause the whole world to end. I wish to avoid that. Nergal has been targeting your group in part because you are all rich in quintessence. I intend to harvest this resource so that I may lead an army to put a stop to Nergal's plans."
Wil waves his fist at the morph. "That's awfully immoral of you! Isn't that hypocritical?"
"...Absolutely. I wish to avoid killing innocent people if I can, but...I've run the numbers. The amount of persons I'd need to challenge Nergal is equivalent to the populace of a large city. That's obviously a horrid thing to do...but you all? I can get the same with a mere legion of twenty. It's a necessary sacrifice..."
A single flame appears over Kishuna's head. It possesses a blue hue, and its heat is already felt from their short distance away. "Fear not. After I transform your bodies into soldiers, I will give you all proper burials once the threat is dealt with. I will respect your cultural customs and arrange for an Eliminite priest to deliver Last Rites after the fact. Now, close your eyes and give in. Do not resist."
Lyn digs her feet into the ground to charge forward, but to her shock she cannot move. She's paralyzed, an invisible force anchoring her feet. The same effect is shared by everyone besides Kishuna. "Huh? What's the meaning of this?!"
"Ah, well...we're in the void. Since you are not a void walker, you cannot move of your own free will. The reason you could earlier was because I manipulated the environment to allow you to. However, I've removed such privileges. I will not fail. Not again."
The fire morphs into a single bolt of blue light. It's sharp and incredibly dangerous. Kishuna uses his magic to point the projectile at Lyn. "I'm afraid you'll have to go first. This will be goodbye. I should thank you...I suppose."
He launches the projectile at breakneck speed. Helpless, Lyn can only close her eyes and scream. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!"
!
Lyn...doesn't feel anything. No heat, no pain, no indicators of death. She wonders what happened for a moment before daring to open her eyes. When she does, she finds that Kishuna's earlier statement about her role is all too real. Despite the binds of the void, someone had laid down their life to protect her. That person was Wil.
"Wil?"
The archer's slumped in front of her, having forced himself in between her and the bolt of light. He'd done so in the nick of time with the projectile mere inches from Lyn's body. Wil lurches over and lands onto the ground, the arrow buried in his chest disappearing. Lyn feels her heart sink like the crimson draining into the ground.
"Wil!"
Lyn falls onto the ground and holds the dying archer in her grasp. She feels her friend's life force flow through her hands and onto her clothes, much like warm milk. Her fingers sense the fading beat of his heart, and tears begin to stream from her face. They land onto her friend's face.
"Wil...I'm so sorry...you're..."
Wil weakly shakes his head. "No...milady. You've...given me...so much. Just...I'm so cold. I...need..."
Lyn takes her hand and wraps it around his. The action brings a smile to his face, the last he will ever make. "T-Thank...you. You...were always so considerate..."
"Wil...you've done so much for me. If it weren't for you...there's no telling if we would have succeeded in my quest to see my grandfather. I can never hope to repay this debt. Never..."
Lyn feels the force lessen in his grip. She grips it tighter and brings her friend closer so she could hear his softening voice. His skin is clammy, a sure-fire indicator of death.
"You...might...be right. But...it was my...duty. If...you feel...the need...there is one thing you...can do for me..."
"What is it? Anything."
"Stay...alive...and take care...of Rebecca. That Dart...fellow...he's her...brother..."
He finally gives up the ghost, and Lyn closes her eyes out of respect for him. She stands on her own two feet, moving despite the stiffness of the air. Her eyes burn with a flame capable of burning an entire forest.
Kishuna says, "Those eyes...I've never thought I'd...ah. Your resistance is futile. You're only wasting your strength."
Lyn shoots back, "I...I hate you...Kishuna. You killed my friend! You...will pay!"
She steps forward to charge, only to stumble. She struggles to move her muscles, but the effort is in vain. It is like trying to wade through a river of molasses. Kishuna smiles maliciously.
"Foolish girl. Don't you understand? With my intelligence, I've accounted for every degree of uncertainty. You're in my world, Lyn. No matter what you do, I will win."
Kishuna reveals a dagger from his cloak. He walks forward and holds the weapon over his head. Lyn continues to fight against her restraints, but can only manage the strength to maintain her breathing. Florina, too, tries to intervene, but her efforts result in screaming.
"No! Don't kill her! Please!"
Kishuna flinches, but maintains his poise. He ignores her and raises his voice. "This is the end for you! The legacy of a noble house, and the Lorca meets its grand finale! Goodbye!"
!
A voice cuts through the darkness, catching everyone off guard. "Not if I can do something about it!"
Suddenly, a purple light appears, radiating with a fire resembling a meteor. It blinks in and out of existence like a series of mini explosions, increasing in intensity and proximity with each iteration. Eventually, the light blinks right next to Kishuna, who flies backwards. He lands on the ground with a thud.
He exclaims, "What...is the meaning of this?"
The light subsides, revealing a form neither Lyn nor Florina have seen for a very long time. Lyn can hardly believe her eyes. How...is this possible?!By Father Sky and Mother Earth, I...thought I saw you die!
It's Samuel. He wears an outfit that's different from usual, only possessing a thick, black cloak that covers his entire body. But, despite that, it's unmistakably him. His long, black curly hair resembles a mop on his head, and his heterochromic eyes cut through the void with a friendly, yet defiant warmth. He has all sorts of bandages covering his exposed regions, with more probably underneath his cloak. It's clear he's working through pain, though that doesn't stop him from intervening here.
Samuel exclaims, "You! It's over for you! Outside of this realm, there's an army of soldiers battling with your creatures of darkness! We've taken the upper hand, and your defeat is inevitable!"
Kishuna flinches. He'd clearly not expected this. "H-How?! I had you restrained in my prison...but...no. I thought the desert would kill you. I was wrong to assume that. I should've sent out a minion to dispose of you. I could never hope to use you as an asset."
He retrieves a small object from his pocket. It's a purple stone, and it glows as he courses magic into it. Speaking into it, he says, "Piret, move the troops out and retreat. This is a lost fight, and I intend to stay alive for another day. Take care of yourself, and will meet at the backup location."
Samuel angrily draws his sword. "Oh, no you don't! Get back here!"
He dashes forward, but there's a noticeable lack to his intensity. He'd lost a considerable amount of speed, and there is too much distance between him and his opponent. By the time he reaches him, runes have been allowed to mature under his feet, a sign of a teleportation spell.
"I bid farewell, for now. I may have lost this battle, but I will win the war. Never forget that, Samuel. I will prevail, and I will save this world from the chains of its fate."
Samuel swings his sword at him, but his weapon only meets air. He's gone. Taking his breath, his lungs heave heavily. He walks his way towards his two surviving friends, his steps feeling numb against the stone.
He says, "Sorry...I just..ugh. I don't...have as much burst as I used to. Are...you two okay?"
His eyes widen when he realizes Florina's slumped against the ground. She's unconscious. Lyn is nearly there as well, but her shock combined with Samuel's presence kept her from passing out. Her eyes fight to stay open, and her body feels incredibly weak.
She mutters, "S...Samuel. You're...alive. I'm...so happy..."
Samuel kneels down and lifts Florina onto his shoulder. Likewise, does the same for Lyn, taking her up in a bridal carry. The force of their weight feels incredibly painful.
"Ugh...my knees. I've really got to...Lyn. I'm glad to see you're okay. But, the environment of the void is getting to you. You need to rest. I'll get you and Florina out of here...back towards safety."
"...But...what about...Wil?"
Samuel's eyes carry a weight to them as he observes Wil's fading form disappear with distance. The sorrow in his heart is indescribable, but he stays strong in light of his mission. "I'll come back for him, I promise. This void field will stay up for several more minutes, so mustn't worry about that. Just...rest."
Lyn uses the last of her strength to slow lean her head closer onto Samuel's chest. A light smile appears on her face as she hears a familiar heartbeat. It was the rhythm of the love of her life, definite proof that he was who he said he was.
"...I...love you...Sammy. Please...don't...leave me...again."
Then she closes her eyes. All becomes black.
