History is but an interpretation. As one truth is given, another is lost to the ether.
Connor York looked at shining moon, painted against the stars. Not a single cloud in the sky. A light breeze blew between the trees and houses. Peace was something painstakingly struck in Stonebury. Looking at the gate before him, he turned around and heading into the woods.
Seven years. Hard to believe that Shepherd Artorius Collbrande was killed by the Lord of Calamity.
A great deal of people cried learning the news. A great memorial was to be built in Loegres.
But the Abbey needed a new hero to rally about. A new savior for these dark times. Daemons are still roaming around, but the malakhim had abandoned them.
So came the Redeemer, Shepherd Eleanor Hume.
Connor wanted to believe this, but he remembered the Abbey's order regarding her. The first Traitor, Damnatio Memoriae. Yet she had the complete backing of the Midgand Empire's Prince.
Frustration vented with every step. The reformation of the Abbey under Hume's rule wasn't the easiest transition. Legates Shigure Rangetsu and Melchior dead and hundreds of Exorcists leaving the Abbey. Some even denounced the Church with the Ascension of the Sixth Empyrean, Maotelus.
Hardliners in the Imperial family added their reluctance. The four years since were hell and back, slowly gathering support from the people.
And yet…
Mysterious disappearances have taken across the Empire's further towns. People or caravans disappear overnight. The sounds of dangerous monsters lurking in the deepest shadow.
With so much on her hands, Shepherd Hume ordered a diaspora. The Abbey and its people into exile.
And Connor was not happy. Not one bit.
All that pain and effort, shuffled off like a piece of parchment.
Without an Exorcist's artes, what could man do against the darkness?
If only Artorius was still alive.
With a lantern in hand, the young man continued his patrol. The dark was drawing deeper and deeper despite the full moon. Drawing a blade, he kept himself steady. Just the sounds of the night.
No, that's not right. The sounds were dead. Muted. Gone.
A single snap in the air and Connor hopped back. An arrow stuck in the ground here he once was. Shadows moved between the trees and branches. This was no wind that carried between them.
Under the moonlight, the shadows ducked and dived at the Exorcist, snipping at his lighter armor. Cuts drew deeper and deeper as he hacked back. These shadows relentlessly attacked, between martial artes and daggering hidden artes.
Winds slashed through his padding, drawing blood. He gulped. He couldn't fight them like this. Running, he took a turn towards the town. But further it seemed away. The woods grew, the dark darker and darker still. Droplets became rivers and he panicked.
Connor dropped his weapons, running with no end in sight. A light pain stuck in his thigh. Another arrow. He widened his eyes, tumbling to a fall.
"Do you know what your sin is?"
The young Exorcist stared up at an armored figure. Dark blood red orbs glowed behind the armor slits of the being's helmet. With a single stroke, Connor choked on his own blood. His throat laid open.
"It is pride…"
His assailant was patient. Whatever this monster was, it would stay, watching him painfully bleed out. Shadows collected in the corners of his eyes as pain and numbness took over.
Falling, he heard the last words.
"For the security of our pure and blue world..."
"Happy Ever After", in truth, it is only when the Author stops paying attention…
Eleanor gazed upon the rocky mounds of her small camp. A fire burned in her heart. She had a feeling this was coming. But another threat so soon..?
Moodiness and snappy wit became her allies. Her friends scattering to the wind as she knew they would. From Magilou, to Rokurou and Eizen, she knew they all had their lives to continue. What hurt the most was the realization of such precious days, on the run from the Abbey's forces, under the star-lit night…
Was the most she felt alive.
Why were such terrible actions, living on the edge, brought out the most of people?
Was this cycle of pain and misery so built into the world they lived in?
She wanted to know. She needed to know. What was the truth behind all of this. The Heavenly Steppes provided an answer, but Eleanor felt dissatisfied. There must be something else beyond pettiness.
It was her job to find the truth.
But as the days continued, and months became years, pretender Lords of Calamity rose.
And she struck them down. Those too far in their despair, too distraught. Was this the only method? Could there be another way? These questions plagued her mind, constantly gnawing away while other threats emerged.
Even after Prince Percival told the nobility of the true nature of Artorius's plan, there were few that believed that it was the "right" correct.
When the needs of the many out-weight the needs of the few… But what happens when they become the few for the many?
Checking the slow burn of the fire before her, she turned to the side. A woman approached her.
Hair as red as the flames, with orange tips. A regal appearance kept by battle dress not unlike the old Exorcist orderlies. Bright blue eyes matching the tips of fire looked back, swearing a solemn vow as her malak-bond.
"Aoife… How much longer until we reach Eumacia's Sanctum?"
"At least two more days. There's a local town nearby, taken by the Empyrean's protection."
She nodded, turning to the other person at the camp. A young woman, with a cap over her head. Strikes of blonde hair poked out and a simple hand-and-a-half sword at her side. Sleeping, sitting close enough to the fire. Even if they really didn't need that.
"Alex, you awake?"
The blonde stirred, opening an eye. "Yes. I heard. I'll scout before the dawn."
Eleanor took a moment and breathed. It seemed just like those days in the past. But those days were long gone. Now, it was a race against all things precious to her. Pretender Lords of Calamity or mass amounts of malevolence. Right now, Maotelus can't purify them all.
Perhaps that was her fault as well…
This is another story. The alternate truth to what was believed to be "the end"
Aball found itself another visitor. Two women walked through its empty pathways to the house furthest away. The first was a woman with long flowing black hair. Dressed in a modified Exorcist's uniform, she brushed the light snow off her over coat. Some things inside the former Abbey just never die.
At least the fashion sense was still good.
The other, a malak of platinum hair and turquois eyes. Tied in a ponytail, she walked with hands clasped before her waist.
A large tree sat before the home, covering graves. Six of them. Two parents, a mother with her unborn child and two siblings. An entire family's brood laid here. Or they should have, given all things that happened.
It's nothing more than empty graves for love that burned so deep, it charred their bodies and left nothing. Ashes couldn't even be collected.
"Just as Hume did before, we too shall pay our respects."
They bowed before the graves, offering flowers.
"Can't believe she paid for these and the monument all by herself."
"Indeed." The malak stood before the graves, studying them.
"… Lailah? I'm gonna check out the house. It's getting late and who knows what else lives in these woods. We'll wait until tomorrow to head back."
"Of course, Amelia. Just let me look at these for a little while longer."
The malak stared at the graves a bit longer, tracing her fingers against the lettering, the prayers and names.
"So this is where it started. And where it ended."
Unrecorded by history, a hidden truth. An alternate ending...
Maotelus opened the chambers to the inner sanctum of the Empyrean's Throne. Rushing passed the attending Servants of the Silver Flame, he found the Cosmic Earthpulse gateway and rushed through.
There was a change in Innominat's power, a fluxuation coming forth into his being. Just how connected were they?
The boy Empyrean reached in, running through the endless tunnels and portals of ethereal blue. Up and down, left and right, backwards and forwards until he found the center point of the Mana Well.
Where he sealed Innominat and Velvet, isolated from the rest of the world, forevermore.
He waved his hands, giant doors rumbling open as he forced themselves through. The shimmering ball of light that enveloped the Fifth Empyrean and Velvet was gone.
Now, laid the sleeping form of his "uncle-in-law" Laphicet Crowe. But even that was slowly losing form. Reverting into a pile of dragon's heads and scaly body. Smaller streams of silver magma shimmered in the air as they were drawn into his body. Like the spreading of a small faucet, he could feel power growing.
Eyes darted from one corner to the next. No sign of her at all. Even in this grim state, Maotelus couldn't find it in his heart that Velvet died as well.
Hesitance pulled back his hand. He shouldn't stay here for too long.
"Velvet… I hope you're safe, wherever you are…" He whispered to himself.
A tale of great, tiny, precious feelings that could ignite the stars
A Tale of Hope and Love…
And so…
Velvet Crowe…
Awaken
Author's Note:
Due to Fanfiction's inability for hyperlinks, I'll just post the song's youtube link below...
So will you wake?
watch?v=Me7TJDHCELk