Queen of Souls
By Soul Hunter
Chapter Eight
The dreadful echoes of his ferocious cries rang out far and wide, disturbing even the tranquility of a distant Chocobo forest. The throes of his hunger mixed with the rage in his black heart as he approached the last village in his path prior to the approach to the vast desert of Kashkabald. He looked around with fierce, glowing eyes at the quiet settlement. Everything seemed to be in order except for the fact that no one stirred within its borders save for a stray dog or two. The village had been abandoned by its population, and he can only guess what transpired. The selfish humans made a move to deprive him once more of his sustenance.
Sizzling crimson hellfire shot forth from his burning eyes and leveled the entire town, leaving nothing that wasn't consumed in his vision's infernal path. In his immense deprivation, the entity of old legends bent down to scoop a handful of earth, after which he brought the filthy bounty to his mouth. A desperate call to satiate his craving for tainted souls.
He then noticed an anomaly. Drawing a whiff of smoldering air into his nostrils, the soul reaper filtered the scent of nearby spirits that still inhabited their human hosts. Turning southward, he saw the approach of a group of middle-aged women whose faces reflected the lack of meaning in their lives. These women, who had heard of his renown from their hidden lair, came to offer homage to the destroyer. He saw into their souls and found them unfit for consumption. Theirs were much too single-minded.
But before he could exhale another death call, the leader of the congregation came near him with the utmost of reverence.
"Mighty lord of the spirits, we give you tribute." Began the old lady. "I plead you lend a merciful ear to our oppressed cries."
In spite of his anger, the armored entity smiled.
"Useless old hag, had you known what I will do to you, would you still have come before my presence?"
"My lord, I would accompany you to the gates of Hades if need be." Her trembling voice returned. "And I, and ten of my sisters ask of nothing but your gracious provision."
He was now amused. So much that he lost his perennial desire to murder. For now, at least.
"State your request, and I may grant it in recognition of your foolish audacity."
"We of the Temple of the Distant Sisters, who have witnessed the shortcoming of fate that allowed our mistress to meet her demise, seek only to serve you, my lord. Make us your slaves. Make our destiny complete with our unreserved servitude for the glory of the dark force."
Demented zealots, he thought. Souls too devout for a good meal and therefore, useless in its raw states. But they wish to become slaves. Why not, he subsequently thought. It wouldn't hurt him to have a contingent of thralls just in case.
Blinding black plumes of smoldering smoke spewed out from his acrid mouth; thick fumes that reeked of pure lies and blood-scented corruption. The smoke reached out and subsequently consumed the cadre of mistresses dedicated to the service of the unlit truth. And however dark the proverbial ghost that animated their new master, thus did their souls became as Cimmerian. Their outer shells relinquished the hue of humanity, giving way to the unsightly splendor of twisted and distorted flesh, skin and bone that decorated their new bodies. In the blink of an eye, whatever was left of their humanity became lost in the murky world of Hadean carnage. And their minds became fused with that of the devourer. Shrill cries flung far and wide as the empowered congregation declared unwavering fealty to the glutton of human spirit.
However, the squeals from toxic lungs mixed with moans of suffering. Their souls may have been spared from consumption, their lives may have found new meaning. But in their dark hearts subsequently rested the ominous fear born of crossing the gates from where retreat was not anymore possible. Celebration became one with mourning as hateful dread declared dominion over their damned souls.
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"Quisty, are you all right?"
Hunter's voice was replete with anxiety as he echoed out that curious question. He had previously been marveling at the unusual steadiness of the dragon craft that lifted off from the terrain surrounding the Tomb of the Unknown King a couple of minutes ago, where they left bound the crew of SeeDs whom they chose to disable in an endeavor to preserve their lives. He wasn't exactly new to technology as he himself wielded some impressive gadgets of his own. Yet the beauty of the eighteen-year old Estharian space shuttle still overwhelmed him. The world had indeed advanced by leaps and bounds since he last slept.
But the silence of the instructor brought his astonished disposition to a halt. She wasn't like this before they left her comrades behind the petrified throne that used to be occupied by the earth Guardian, Sacred. Hunter even thought he sensed a kind of lilting mood in Quistis before he suggested a measure to ensure her friends' safety, upon which the instructor complied by leaving Diablos junctioned to Squall to prevent them from being detected by the monsters running loose in the tomb.
That may be it, he surmised.
"You still feel bad about them, don't you?"
"Well, doh!" Quistis shot back. "It's not exactly the best feeling in the world to leave your own friends tied up like that." She then resumed her silence after that snide remark.
"I know I'm sorry. I just hope you're not blaming me for forcing you into this position."
"Blame you?" She began anew. "You know what, Hunter, I'm really trying not to. But how do you expect me to feel? You come into my room and spout out all this balderdash about me and my friends dying if we face this enemy that according to you, have been damning souls for ages. Then I don't know what you did after that. Maybe you somehow injected me with some sort of hallucinogen to make me see all those visions just so I can be convinced. Now, I ended up attacking my friends. MY FRIENDS! And believe me, I don't exactly feel like looking at things in a positive light right now. Who knows what kind of elaborate trap you're sending me into?"
Hunter felt slightly disenchanted by Quistis' scornful speech, but he decided against playing up to her ire.
"You don't really believe that, do you?"
"I don't know I'm not sure what to believe anymore" The instructor returned softly. She however immediately reversed herself. Ever since she had met up with this masked stranger, Quistis had been sensing her defenses crumbling before his disarming aura. She wanted to fault herself at what appeared to be an uncharacteristic naivete on her part for initially thinking that his gentleness was getting to her. She even went one step further when she remembered the careless remark she muttered prior to his appearance inside her room:
"Whoever's destined for me let him come now. At this very moment."
Could he actually be her destiny? Who knows? She wasn't exactly one to subscribe to the notion of a soul mate after her spirit was crushed by the sight of her long time object of affection falling into another woman's arms. She had believed then that she will never find happiness, at least not of the romantic sort.
And Quistis was half-hearted when it came to bizarre coincidences. On one side, they were just too bizarre so to speak, to be adjudged as outright random. But on the other, her attitude against anything superstitious also kept her from accepting that some things are meant to happen as declared by some god of fate and fortune. She had been trying to pound into her head that the comment she whispered before couldn't have triggered Hunter's arrival. And yet, as her conviction insisted, it was just too odd. What are the chances of someone actually coming into her room right after she whispered her heart's longing to meet her destiny?
Maybe he's some kind of a mind reader, she thought. Maybe he had been studying her all along, trying to find her weak spot. And again, she was confused.
"Who who are you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I don't know anything about you where you came from, what do you really do, who sent you, how old are you, when's your birthday, what are your parents' names, are you married"
Birthday? Parents' names?
Married?
Hunter chose not to raise the issue anymore to avoid embarrassing Quistis. But deep inside, he was elated by her apparent desire to know things about him that weren't exactly standard fare for a field partner dossier.
"I I don't even know what you look like" She furthered, her voice falling to a soft, melancholic tone. Hunter wasn't able to resist the urge anymore.
"Why do you want to know more about me?"
"Huh? Oh uhh" Quistis stammered, feeling the bout of embarrassment that Hunter earlier tried to keep her from feeling. "Because uhh like how am I supposed to trust you if you're always going to keep me in the dark?"
That was cheap, he thought with a smile. Hunter felt every fiber in his body jubilating to the possibility that Quistis might also be starting to like him.
However, his mood swung to that of anxious caution. In a way, the instructor had a point in at least wanting to see his face for her to be able to trust him. But part of his training demanded for him to maintain anonymity, so much that it had become almost painful to reveal his face to anyone. His conviction subsequently warred against his desire to surrender a delicate part of himself to this girl who, to his dismay, had already taken his heart captive.
But Hunter's reservation became an exercise in futility when Quistis suddenly snapped her bullwhip against his helmet, slicing it across the center.
"Dammit you just destroyed my micro optics." He shot out while trying to keep his decapitated headgear in place. But he wasn't really mad about the loss of his equipment, not that he could insist otherwise. Hunter turned away from Quistis but her gentle hands pulled him by the shoulder and coaxed him to face her again. Letting out a resigned groan, he finally decided to take the helmet off.
He was thankful that the black headgear was air-cooled, or else his hair would have been soaking wet from the perspiration that would have drenched it from all that time he wore the helmet. It was bad enough that his face was exposed against his will, and the last thing that he needed right now was to appear unkempt in front of the pretty instructor.
Still, Hunter couldn't help feeling shy as his jet black, straight hair fell freely over his forehead. His embarrassment was so immense that he couldn't bear to gaze back at her. In the process failing to see the look of pleasant surprise in Quistis' eyes as she observed the subtle tensing on the muscles along both sides of his jaw that gave his face a sort of solid yet tapering shape. And the uneasy flicking of his dark brown eyes from one side to the other to avoid meeting her gaze was almost magical in her sight, so much that the instructor found herself almost desperate for those garnet beads to lock with her own sapphire jewels.
Quistis brought a hand over her lips to cover her girlish smile.
"Don't look at me like that" He muttered sheepishly. Quistis obliged and tried to assume a stoic look.
"All right, I want some answers."
"Okay, fire away."
"I want you to tell me who you are, and what your connection to this monsters is."
He sighed heavily before answering.
"All right. First of all, you already know of this entity's origin that was related to the unknown king and his wife's rather painful betrayal."
"Yeah, that part I already figured out. And I also understand you're the descendant of the king's knights that first fought this creature."
"The first of three generations of knights, or Hunters, depending on what term appeals to you more. But let me tell you first about the enemy. He was or is what old folks call an incubus."
"An incubus?" Quistis remarked in awe. Having studied paranormal history as part of Garden's advanced curriculum, the instructor was well aware of the ancient being feared for its insatiable appetite for the human lifeforces, or souls as how she believed it. One reference book even described the being as one of a whole race of soul devourers who fought and were vanquished by unnamed warriors rumored to be commissioned by Hyne's spirit itself. These warriors, according to ancient tomes, were the first to be equipped with the one power effective against the creatures that took pride from their vaunted immortality. Unfortunately, the books she read did not contain the information regarding that one power.
"So what you're saying," She followed up, "is this monster is just one of many?"
"I wouldn't exactly call it a monster." Hunter replied. "This creature thinks and feels like a human, and the only thing that sets it apart is he derives his life from the souls that he consumes. Kinda like a vampire of spirits, only with the power of a sorceress. And legends say that thought they were a race, all but one of them were vanquished by a legion of Hyne's servants that wielded their one weakness."
"And what might that be?" Quistis asked.
"Earth."
"Earth? As in the elemental earth?"
"Yep. These warriors, who allegedly evolved from Hyne's own essence, destroyed the clan of the soul devourers. But they themselves suffered massive loss. In the end, there were only six left: Titan, Sacred, Minotaur, Vulcan, the Tetra-beast Kjata and the pack commander of the warrior hounds, Fenrir."
"Interesting" She mumbled, having in knowledge the eventual fate of four of the six Hunter mentioned. "And the warriors themselves became what is now known as Guardian Forces. I happen to junction two of them well, Rinoa usually does until I took it from her just before. Then Marcus has Titan, and Kjata is currently listed with the Garden GF reserve. But I've never heard of Vulcan or Fenrir."
"Well, believe me, they're there."
"I never said they weren't!" Quistis snapped back with a pout. Hunter didn't know whether to feel amused or alarmed, if not for the smirk she subsequently flashed at him.
"Oh man, this is definitely not included in my assessment of your behavior." He said, shaking is head. "You always mess with guys like this?"
"Mr. Hunter, you have never seen me mess with a guy." She answered, looking straight into his eyes. The dark warrior almost felt weak-kneed.
"Uhh whatever. ANYWAYS," He shot out, "though the earth Guardians were successful in defeating the incubi clan, they missed the opportunity to put the shackles on their leader who, for some reason, disappeared all of the sudden. His name suddenly vanished from written records until"
"Until the unknown king summoned him."
"That's right. Because of what he did, the king was forced by conscience to surrender his soul to eternal imprisonment. Partly to save himself from his own handiwork, and also to atone for his sin. And to ensure that his punishment was carried out, no less than two of the primeval warriors who bled in the battle against the incubi took it upon themselves to guard his tomb."
"The Brothers" She quipped. "And I thought I already knew everything about Guardian Forces."
"Apparently, you still know quite little. You weren't even aware of the repercussions of freeing the unknown king from his prison."
Quistis couldn't help raising an eyebrow while realizing the level of knowledge he had about her.
"How much do you know about me anyway?"
"Just enough to do my job. That is until" He suddenly stuttered, wondering why he was compelled to let her know that he held information about her that was way more adequate than what was required for his mission. Maybe he just wanted to let her know that he had been watching her closely? But why?
"Until you started having a crush on me?" The instructor playfully added.
It was then Hunter's turn to elevate an eyebrow. "Why, aren't we the modest one." He remarked in jesting.
"Hmph! Why should I let Rinoa do all the flaunting? I am more popular than her anyway."
"Rinoa? You mean that girl with black hair, blue what's-is-called" He faded slightly, mildly ashamed for his general ignorance to female wardrobe, "and the blinding legs? Man, she is cute, isn't she?"
Quistis' facade suddenly grew dark after that careless remark by Hunter.
"All right." She said while reaching inside her pocket. "Here's a gil. Go buy yourself someone else to talk to!"
"What the" A dumbfounded Hunter stammered as the instructor suddenly turned her back on him and proceeded back to the pilot's seat. As he approached her, the flustered warrior noticed her scowling face and the arms crossed tightly against her chest -- a perennial display of vexation typical to a girl who wouldn't talk to her beau even if his head was about to be swallowed by an Anacondaur. He grew worried about her behavior, but at the same time felt a tingling sense of flattery.
"I never knew you were the jealous type." He echoed in attempting to push in some levity. Quistis didn't answer, and instead unhinged the main bolt of the co-pilot seat before pushing it down to the floor. Hunter glared at her gesture, now seriously wondering if she was indeed jealous. And much as he wanted to thrill at the possibility, he also knew that this wasn't by any means a good way to kick-off a possible relationship.
SeeD or not, instructor or no, mercenary or otherwise, Quistis was first and foremost, an eighteen-year old girl. A girl that needed to be appeased with the utmost of care at every turn, whenever the situation called for it.
Or rather, whenever the opportunity presented itself.
But how? It had been so long since he last charmed himself past a girl's ire. And for the first time in years, Hunter didn't know what do.
But that was before he struck on an idea. Turning himself back to her, the dark warrior uttered curt words that completely destroyed the instructor's irate mood.
"Did I tell you I'm already one hundred and thirty-one years old?"
End of Chapter Eight