Chapter 13: Yield to the Light
A cool wind blew through the trees, generating a loud rustling of leaves. It blew ripples into the water, and leaves into the air.
The day was bright, sunny and peaceful. Birds sang from the treetops. Squirrels scurried along branches. A deer watched from the shade of the woods, two intimidating men dressed in dark attire, each emanating opposite auras.
"Did you feel that wind?" asked Aragorn, who had just finished filling a canteen with fresh river water.
"Mmm? Uh, probably just blew in from the ocean, or somethin'. We're still close enough, I guess." Guts figured.
Aragorn scanned the direction from where the breeze came intently. He listened, but all he heard was the river and a nut dropping from a tree. Maybe it was just the sea breeze.
"I can't believe they would send someone like you to guide a dwarf," Guts laughed in disbelief. "Seems like an awful waste of talent, if you ask me."
"A hobbit, my friend, a hobbit. A bit shorter, and much thinner. The task was quite important, and I think I would be the only one who could. I only pray they found someone else to assist the ring-bearer." Aragorn responded honestly.
"If it were up to me," Guts pointed a finger at Aragorn. "You'd be commander of the army, or somethin' like that. Ya' know? Not a tiny man's escort. But hell if I know."
The two men stood and decided on a route to take. There were significantly less trees and brush to the west, so that's where they headed, with no destination in mind.
"Guts, you said your life was taken from you during a great demonic ritual, and that you are now fighting for the sake of the one named Casca, correct?" Aragorn asked the man with the strangest past he's ever heard.
"Yeah, it was called the eclipse. Until now I've tried to bury the past deep in my thoughts, but I realize now I must use it to strengthen my ambition. I can't run from it for the rest of my life, however short it may be."
Aragorn paid attention to every word. Guts was finally going to reveal what happened to make him the way he is.
"The man whose respect I tried so hard to earn, the man I called my closest friend... he took everything from me. Our band followed him through thick and thin, never once questioning why. All we wanted was to serve him and help him achieve his goal. Until that day, when a black sun blocked the light of our sun, and pulled us into a demon world. Some of them even called it Hell. Heh... Hell was right. There were demons as far as the eye could see. And there were bigger demons, too. Called themselves the God-Hand. What an ugly bunch."
The two passed over a fallen log, one that could never rise again. Insects feasted on it's corpse.
"The God-Hand asked... him... Griffith, a question. Would he sacrifice the rest of us to get the power he chased his whole life? All he had to do was say, "I sacrifice", and, well, the rest is history. We were all given the brand of sacrifice, the thing on my neck, and the demons came at us. It was a damn slaughter. We stood no chance."
Guts looked into the sky through the trees. Aragorn stopped to look at him.
"Judeau, Pippin, Gaston, Corkus... C-Casca... all were taken from the world that day. All so that bastard, Griffith... could get his kingdom, his kingdom built on a foundation of blood. Now, he walks the earth as a god while our friends suffer for eternity."
"I thought you said you fight now for Casca, but you say she was also taken from the world along with the rest?" Aragorn questioned.
"Me and her escaped, but she left behind herself. Her mind is still trapped in that place, but her body came back. I'm thinking it was too much for her, so her body acted in defense, blocking the old Casca from seeing the light of day again."
"Guts, my words could never be worth nearly enough, but I will say it anyway. I am truly sorry for the fate that has befallen you. If ever we are able to return to our worlds, be they separate planes or not, if I am in a position to assist you in your mission, you will have my sword fighting with you."
Aragorn put his hand on Guts shoulder.
"Guts, we can beat him. Do not lose faith."
Guts sighed deeply. "Yeah. We can."
...
They traveled for another day with no sign of civilization, but finally they had found a tall hill to gaze from. It went uphill for 50 feet, then flattened out to a plateau. It was free of trees, only grass and a few boulders. From the top they saw more forest as far as they could see. It was a discouraging sight for the both of them, but they knew they couldn't stop now.
The same cool wind as before blew through the air. It chilled both men. This time, there was no way it came from the ocean, they were much too far inland for that. Aragorn knew this wasn't right.
"Guts can you-" Aragorn stopped at the sight of Guts' neck leaking blood. That could only mean one thing.
"There are demons nearby. They are coming," Guts warned. He pulled his massive sword from it's hook. "It's been a while since I got to swing this thing around!"
They both looked in all directions, but no sign of any movement. Where were the demons? And why weren't they being repelled by Aragorn's amulet?
Guts put a hand over the brand of sacrifice. He squeezed the skin surrounding it.
"The pains... getting worse. It... must be something big." he managed to spit out.
Still, nothing but wind through leaves. Guts fell down to his knee, clutching his neck tightly.
"Argh! This... this is something else!"
Aragorn found the source. Miles above them in the sky soared a large beast, one he was quite familiar with. It was unmistakable. Zodd.
The beast began diving at them with great speed. He was coming back for the orb! Aragorn felt it in it's sack at his hip. It was still there. He readied his sword and stance.
"Guts, it is Zodd. He has come back for the orb." Aragorn said, but Guts couldn't respond. He was overcome with a burning sensation.
Zodd slowed down before landing. He met the earth with a quite thud, which surprised Aragorn. Zodd always was loud and imposing.
"Must we defeat you again, demon?!" Aragorn yelled to the beast. "We will kill you as many times as it takes!"
Zodd had no response. Instead, he knelt down, allowing a beaming figure of light to step off his back. It was a man, but he was more like the sun. Aragorn help his sword forward in warning.
"Who are you?! What is your purpose here!?" Aragorn yelled over the wind, but no answer came. Instead, the man, or maybe the angel, walked towards him and Guts. Aragorn was taken back by how beautiful this man was. The sight of him filled Aragorn with inspiration.
"Guts do you know who this is..." Aragorn asked, but noticed Guts' expression. He was staring at the man with the most intense emotion Aragorn had ever seen. This was someone from Guts' past, it was certain.
The man stood 10 feet from Aragorn. His mere presence seemed to affect the world. No one said anything for a full minute. Guts was trying to say something, but he couldn't formulate any words. Aragorn knew from Guts' expression exactly who this man was. It was obvious to him now.
"You are Griffith," he accused. "The Hawk."
Griffith looked down at his former ally, struggling to stand. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Guts felt the pain leave his body. He stood to his feet.
"You..." he whispered through bitter rage and grit teeth. No one moved an inch, they simply stood watching each other. Guts and Aragorn were in battle stances, but Griffith just stood there casually.
"You have something I require," Griffith said to Aragorn, pointing to the orb's sack. "Please, hand it to me."
"I know what you've done, demon," Aragorn answered. "You're a murderer, a traitor, and a coward. I will not give you the orb."
Griffith's eyes pierced Aragorn's soul. "You would only be prolonging the inevitable."
Guts stepped forward. He was so furious he had trouble standing.
"Where. I-Is. Sh-She." he barely managed to say. Griffith didn't answer the question. Instead, he turned back to Aragorn.
"Do you wish to help this man, Aragorn, son of Arathorn?"
Aragorn was shocked by his words. Not many knew his name.
"This man is my friend, as he was once yours. I will not betray him as a coward would."
Griffith's stare was unchanging. His long white hair blew across his face.
"You know what it is he wants. Go now. Give him that which he desires most."
Aragorn didn't understand. "What do you mean..."
He was cut off by an explosion of light that filled his entire view, followed quickly by an endless darkness. He was unsure of what was happening, but he felt his body become lighter than air, and faster than light.
...
Aragorn awoke in a grassy field. He felt like he had had the weirdest dream. He rubbed his head as he sat up, then quickly remembered the situation. He looked all around him with great urgency, but couldn't find Guts, Griffith, or Zodd. In fact, he found himself in a completely foreign location. There was a forest to his right, but the rest was grassy hills. There was a calming wind blowing through the area peacefully.
Aragorn tried to remember what happened, but all he could think of was meeting Griffith, then white, then dark. Next, he woke up here. His sword was in it's sheathe thankfully, and the orb...
"No..." he said, frantically looking around for the relic. The orb was gone! The sack was empty! Griffith had taken it.
"Guts!" he called into the field. "Are you there!?" but no response came. Aragorn rose to his feet and set off into the hills. He had to find out where he was, fast. He ran with good pace over many hills and through many trees. Thankfully, being part elf granted him an impressive energy supply, allowing him to run for days at a time. He hoped he wouldn't have to run for long before he found something that could help.
Within twenty minutes of running he heard voices coming from behind the next hill. He slowed down to minimize his noise, and creeped around to get a look at who was there. He found a patch of bushes that perfectly blocked anyone from seeing him as he looked on.
"Finally, something goes right for us for once!" a man's voice said snidely. Aragorn looked to see three men grabbing at defenseless young woman. One held her down while the other two tore off her clothes. Aragorn knew exactly what they were planning. The girl screamed in utter terror, but to no avail. She was powerless to stop them.
"Quit yer squirmin, girly! This is gonna feel real good, y'hear?" the short, fat one said. The tall, lanky one held her arms down, while the middle-height man held her legs down. The short one positioned himself over her.
"Now you just sit tight, and this'll all be over in a... Urk...
The short one was interrupted by a blade piercing his heart. He died before he even knew what happened. Aragorn lifted his lifeless body, still on the sword, and flung it 10 feet to the side. The other two scrambled back, and clumsily climbed to their feet. They pulled their swords.
"Wha-what the hell!? Who're you?!"
Aragorn walked slowly towards them, his eyes full of rage.
"There is no man lower than he who would force himself on a woman..."
"Who do you think you are, man?!" the tall one said as he raised his sword above his head. Before he could even blink, his throat spewed forth a fountain of blood. He fell to the ground, never to rise again.
"Gods, no!" the remaining man said. "Please! Spare me! I wasn't going to do anything! I swear!"
The man blinked, and Aragorn was standing in front of him with his sword through his gut. "Urgh!"
"Tell me," Aragorn whispered in his ear. "If your Gods spare you."
With that, he ripped the sword out of the man, who fell to the ground. Blood pooled in his mouth. He was no more.
"Unforgivable... Now, you can hurt no one." Aragorn said as he turned back to the girl, but she wasn't there. Instead, he saw her running away into the forest nearby. She hadn't even bothered to put her clothes back on.
"Hey! Wait!" Aragorn called, but she didn't listen. She continued on into the forest.
Aragorn grabbed her clothes and ran after her. It didn't take him long to catch up to her, as her run was clumsy, and she stumbled over everything. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stop.
"Hey! Just wait a moment..." he tried to say as she punched him in the face with surprising strength. He held on, but was surprised by her might.
"Stop running! I'm not here to hurt you!" he tried to explain, but she kept pulling away.
"Hey! Do you understand me? I'm trying to help!"
The girl kept screaming rather than answering. It was clear she was not sound in the head. Then, a voice echoed in Aragorn's head: "Her body escaped, but her mind stayed in that place." "Go now. Give him that which he desires most."
Aragorn knew who this was. This was the one Guts desired most. This was Casca.
He dropped her clothes and grabbed her arms with both his hands. He pulled her face within an inch of his own, and stared through her eyes. They told him everything. She stared back at his, and stopped pulling away.
"It's ok," he whispered. "I'm going to help you."
He gave her a warm smile that calmed the air around them. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. For the first time in over a year, she felt... safe.
"Oohhhh, ahh..." came from her. Despite her broken sanity, Aragorn knew he had earned her trust.
"Ahh!" she wailed as she pushed herself into his arms. She cried. And she cried. And she cried. For ten minutes. They dropped to the ground, and Aragorn hugged her close.
"I'm going to bring you to your friend, Guts, ok? He really wants to see you. He has so much to tell you."
"Buuu... B-Buu..."
"Now, let's get up. I think we have to do some walking."
He helped her up, the whole time Casca never took her eyes off of him.
"Oh! And I brought your clothes. We cannot go walking without any clothes, can we?" he said lightly. He helped her dress, and gave her his canteen of water, which she drank until it was empty.
"Hmm... you're probably hungry, too. I'll see if I can catch a rabbit or a deer on the way."
"Mmmmuuhhhh!"
They set off into the hills and fields to find Guts. This was not the quest Aragorn had in mind when he set off several weeks ago, but somehow, something was telling him that this was more important than guiding the ring. Somehow, the fate of the world rested on his, Casca's, and Guts' shoulders.