Chapter VI: N'zac Zann.
A hooded figure stood obstinately in the valley near Kalm. It wore a black cloak that revealed nothing about the person inside. It simply stood and looked toward the stars. The only thing that disturbed the perfect semidry was a long silver sheath. It was a beautifully forged thing that spanned nearly six feet long. Various rune and symbols had been etched into the sheath. The sword handle that stuck out from the sheath was bound in black leather and was long enough for two hands to grip it. It was also riddled with symbols.
Over the horizon a group of people riding chocobos appeared. At this time of the night they were hardy distinguishable from the darkness, but the figure sensed their presence. Its head turned from the sky and to the oncoming riders. The figure raised an arm and muttered a few words and a brilliant light surrounded him. The light glinted off is arm and reflected the light. As the riders approached him the figure dropped his hand and the light faded.
"You are late." The figure spoke. Its voice was strangely metallic, like a machine.
"We sensed something amiss with our mentally challenged friend." The leading rider stated.
"Was it serious?" The figure asked.
"No, but it seemed like trouble at the time."
"Is Chaos still there?" The figure continued.
"All of 'em. When do we get payment, Mech'ead?"
"You know very well what my real name is. I will thank you to use it." The figure said irritably.
"Alright, alright. Jazac Na, ya happy?"
"You have known me for years, Gerald, am I ever happy?" The figure said a mocking tone.
"Never."
"Is the task I have given you complete?"
"Aye, four sectors are nutin but memories now."
"Will they know who did it?"
This question brought harsh laughter to the riders.
"If they don' know who dun it by now then they must be blind!"
The figure stood silently, waiting for the laughter to die down.
"Does Vincent suspect anything?"
"Listen, right now only the Turks 'n' Reeve knows what happened there, but in a few days the entire globe will know what we kin do." More laughter erupted from the others. "Are we gonna cut 'n' run, or stay 'n' start a reign of terror? 'Cause we can y' know. Ain't got any problem with that."
The figure raised a hand and drew back the hood that covered his head. Behind the mask of shadows it had been wearing there lurked an even darker face. The upper left portion of the figures face was a dark purple color, the eye a glowing red slit as it glared at Gerald fiercely. The rest was mess of shining metal. The mouth that might have once been normal now had long steel fangs jutting down on the outside of his mouth. While the left eye blazed red the other was simply black. Steel strands had replaced hair long ago. It held its hair up with a blue bandana. In some places there was small lights flashed on and off. It raised a hand to reveal that it too was pure steel. Serrated claws were at the end of each finger. It was the exact opposite of Vincent Valentine. The moonlight spilled over the steel to make a myriad of small lights.
"Right. You have no problems with staying here. But you are not the leader here, nor shall you ever be will I still walk this planes ground. We will take over Midgar, as I promised, but I must also take my revenge over Vincent. I am the leader. I order, you obey. Understood?"
Gerald glared back at the gleaming figure before him. He climbed down from the chocobo and pulled out two long, crystal knives.
"Oh yes. I understand. You're afraid o' them AVALANCHE fellars over in Kalm. Huh, some leader."
"They killed your master, didn't they?" The figure said mockingly.
This seemed to strike some hidden nerve in Gerald. He charged at the figure and swiped at its midriff with the daggers. The cloaked figure moved like lightning, sidestepping and tripping the enraged Gerald at the same time. The metallic hand grabbed the sword handle and drew it. Gerald was back on his feet with his daggers flaying. He spun around with his right arm outstretched and the other ready to stab upwards. The figure didn't even seem to move. The daggers flew right passed its head and he swiped at a dagger with the sword. The handle stayed in Gerald's hand, but the blade exploded into countless crystal shards. Before he could react further the figure's left hand shot out and stabbed Gerald deep in the chest with its claws. He felt himself be raised as if he was a feather and heard the sword being put back into the sheath. He tried stabbing into steel hand back the blade couldn't seem to get any purchase on it. Each time he stabbed down the blade slid off the shining metal. The figure brought its other hand to Gerald's forehead and called out to the riders.
"I reward everyone who serves me well, but I wall also punish where it is needed."
The claws sank deep into Gerald's head and five crimson rivers flowed from his head.
"Witness as I punish the man who thought he could battle me and win."
The claws were pulled down through Gerald's face, and blood oozed down onto the shining metal. He fell to the ground, the pain searing into his skull as his last minutes were upon him.
The figure turned its head to the group of riders behind him, fiendish delight stamped on his face.
"Anybody feeling loyal tonight? Anybody want to join their fallen leader? No?" He said.
Silence answered him.
"Right, then I am now your leader. You will obey with obedience, loyalty and efficiency. Do I make myself clear?"
There was a mumbled answer from the riders as he finished.
"My name is Jazac Na, but that name has been dead for decades. My name to you now is," He turned his head to the sky and shouted. "MECH-HEAD!"
The others shouted with their new leader, watching him curiously as he cast away the cloak and spread a pair of huge ebony wings.
"Tonight we leave for Midgar, to claim what is ours!"
The wings flapped energetically to lift their owner from the ground. His entire body shined in the moonlight as he rose in the air, then he dived sharply and glided near the ground, flapping his wings when he began to descend again.
The rider looked undecided for moment then one stepped off their chocobo and picked up Gerald's dagger. He climbed back onto his chocobo and followed his leader. The rest followed him.
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Red XIII padded into Vincent's room. He walked up to the chair Yuffie had been sitting in. To his puzzlement she was not there. A whimper in the bed brought his attention upwards. He poked his head over the bed covers and found himself staring at Yuffie's back.
"So that's where she is." He muttered.
He took the chair in his mouth and dropped it near the table in the corner. He sat in the chair and began looking through the books that Vincent had accumulated during his time out in the open. Many looked severely ancient and were riddled with strange symbols and markings. However it was on one particular tome that he found a mixture of Cetra writing and the odd symbols. He held up a paw to the time worn book and uttered one word.
"Translation."
The words in the book glowed instantly. Its radiance increased to a point that Red had to shield his eye from it. Then it died down. Red peered at the book curiously. The pages that had once been filled with symbols and unreadable letters were now translated into common English. Red began reading to himself.
"The Demons of the north call themselves the Kala sat. They are the bestial wolf-like beings that stalk the forests at night. To the south of our great capital are a mixed a tribe which call themselves the N'zac Zann, which means the great ones in their crude language. This tribe contains demons of all the six types known to us. They have signed a secret alliance against us, the Kala sat and the. We have made preparations for any treachery planned by the cruel people of the coast."
On the other side of the book there appeared to be a later writing.
"We have slain the great one that was called phazung, but the other five great demon warriors remain. Nothing can stop them in the heat of battle. They were greatly outnumbered on the field where we ambushed them, but they killed off the ambush and escaped to warn the others in their vile tribe. The chance for defeating our elusive foe was lost, along with many lives."
Red turned the page.
"Four of the demons blood warriors have surrendered to us. They asked only that they could leave the land unharmed. In return they slew the remaining blood warrior and revealed the location the enemy's army. We have the demons in our custody now; they have given their names freely. Galian beast of the Kala sat, Hellmasker of the N'zac Zann, Death Gigas of the N'zac Zann and."
"Chaos of the N'zac Zann." Vincent finished behind him. "If you wanted to borrow my book you could have asked instead of sneaking in here in the dead of the night and taking a quick peek."
Red XIII jumped at the sound Vincent's voice.
"You were a bit, indisposed at the moment when I would have asked you the question. So, you have read these words and understood them?" Red replied.
"I never understood the words, he did."
Red nodded his furry head. There was no doubt who he was.
"The real question is if my four friends killed this fifth blood warrior or whatever, what happened to its spirit?" Vincent pondered.
A hooded figure stood obstinately in the valley near Kalm. It wore a black cloak that revealed nothing about the person inside. It simply stood and looked toward the stars. The only thing that disturbed the perfect semidry was a long silver sheath. It was a beautifully forged thing that spanned nearly six feet long. Various rune and symbols had been etched into the sheath. The sword handle that stuck out from the sheath was bound in black leather and was long enough for two hands to grip it. It was also riddled with symbols.
Over the horizon a group of people riding chocobos appeared. At this time of the night they were hardy distinguishable from the darkness, but the figure sensed their presence. Its head turned from the sky and to the oncoming riders. The figure raised an arm and muttered a few words and a brilliant light surrounded him. The light glinted off is arm and reflected the light. As the riders approached him the figure dropped his hand and the light faded.
"You are late." The figure spoke. Its voice was strangely metallic, like a machine.
"We sensed something amiss with our mentally challenged friend." The leading rider stated.
"Was it serious?" The figure asked.
"No, but it seemed like trouble at the time."
"Is Chaos still there?" The figure continued.
"All of 'em. When do we get payment, Mech'ead?"
"You know very well what my real name is. I will thank you to use it." The figure said irritably.
"Alright, alright. Jazac Na, ya happy?"
"You have known me for years, Gerald, am I ever happy?" The figure said a mocking tone.
"Never."
"Is the task I have given you complete?"
"Aye, four sectors are nutin but memories now."
"Will they know who did it?"
This question brought harsh laughter to the riders.
"If they don' know who dun it by now then they must be blind!"
The figure stood silently, waiting for the laughter to die down.
"Does Vincent suspect anything?"
"Listen, right now only the Turks 'n' Reeve knows what happened there, but in a few days the entire globe will know what we kin do." More laughter erupted from the others. "Are we gonna cut 'n' run, or stay 'n' start a reign of terror? 'Cause we can y' know. Ain't got any problem with that."
The figure raised a hand and drew back the hood that covered his head. Behind the mask of shadows it had been wearing there lurked an even darker face. The upper left portion of the figures face was a dark purple color, the eye a glowing red slit as it glared at Gerald fiercely. The rest was mess of shining metal. The mouth that might have once been normal now had long steel fangs jutting down on the outside of his mouth. While the left eye blazed red the other was simply black. Steel strands had replaced hair long ago. It held its hair up with a blue bandana. In some places there was small lights flashed on and off. It raised a hand to reveal that it too was pure steel. Serrated claws were at the end of each finger. It was the exact opposite of Vincent Valentine. The moonlight spilled over the steel to make a myriad of small lights.
"Right. You have no problems with staying here. But you are not the leader here, nor shall you ever be will I still walk this planes ground. We will take over Midgar, as I promised, but I must also take my revenge over Vincent. I am the leader. I order, you obey. Understood?"
Gerald glared back at the gleaming figure before him. He climbed down from the chocobo and pulled out two long, crystal knives.
"Oh yes. I understand. You're afraid o' them AVALANCHE fellars over in Kalm. Huh, some leader."
"They killed your master, didn't they?" The figure said mockingly.
This seemed to strike some hidden nerve in Gerald. He charged at the figure and swiped at its midriff with the daggers. The cloaked figure moved like lightning, sidestepping and tripping the enraged Gerald at the same time. The metallic hand grabbed the sword handle and drew it. Gerald was back on his feet with his daggers flaying. He spun around with his right arm outstretched and the other ready to stab upwards. The figure didn't even seem to move. The daggers flew right passed its head and he swiped at a dagger with the sword. The handle stayed in Gerald's hand, but the blade exploded into countless crystal shards. Before he could react further the figure's left hand shot out and stabbed Gerald deep in the chest with its claws. He felt himself be raised as if he was a feather and heard the sword being put back into the sheath. He tried stabbing into steel hand back the blade couldn't seem to get any purchase on it. Each time he stabbed down the blade slid off the shining metal. The figure brought its other hand to Gerald's forehead and called out to the riders.
"I reward everyone who serves me well, but I wall also punish where it is needed."
The claws sank deep into Gerald's head and five crimson rivers flowed from his head.
"Witness as I punish the man who thought he could battle me and win."
The claws were pulled down through Gerald's face, and blood oozed down onto the shining metal. He fell to the ground, the pain searing into his skull as his last minutes were upon him.
The figure turned its head to the group of riders behind him, fiendish delight stamped on his face.
"Anybody feeling loyal tonight? Anybody want to join their fallen leader? No?" He said.
Silence answered him.
"Right, then I am now your leader. You will obey with obedience, loyalty and efficiency. Do I make myself clear?"
There was a mumbled answer from the riders as he finished.
"My name is Jazac Na, but that name has been dead for decades. My name to you now is," He turned his head to the sky and shouted. "MECH-HEAD!"
The others shouted with their new leader, watching him curiously as he cast away the cloak and spread a pair of huge ebony wings.
"Tonight we leave for Midgar, to claim what is ours!"
The wings flapped energetically to lift their owner from the ground. His entire body shined in the moonlight as he rose in the air, then he dived sharply and glided near the ground, flapping his wings when he began to descend again.
The rider looked undecided for moment then one stepped off their chocobo and picked up Gerald's dagger. He climbed back onto his chocobo and followed his leader. The rest followed him.
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Red XIII padded into Vincent's room. He walked up to the chair Yuffie had been sitting in. To his puzzlement she was not there. A whimper in the bed brought his attention upwards. He poked his head over the bed covers and found himself staring at Yuffie's back.
"So that's where she is." He muttered.
He took the chair in his mouth and dropped it near the table in the corner. He sat in the chair and began looking through the books that Vincent had accumulated during his time out in the open. Many looked severely ancient and were riddled with strange symbols and markings. However it was on one particular tome that he found a mixture of Cetra writing and the odd symbols. He held up a paw to the time worn book and uttered one word.
"Translation."
The words in the book glowed instantly. Its radiance increased to a point that Red had to shield his eye from it. Then it died down. Red peered at the book curiously. The pages that had once been filled with symbols and unreadable letters were now translated into common English. Red began reading to himself.
"The Demons of the north call themselves the Kala sat. They are the bestial wolf-like beings that stalk the forests at night. To the south of our great capital are a mixed a tribe which call themselves the N'zac Zann, which means the great ones in their crude language. This tribe contains demons of all the six types known to us. They have signed a secret alliance against us, the Kala sat and the. We have made preparations for any treachery planned by the cruel people of the coast."
On the other side of the book there appeared to be a later writing.
"We have slain the great one that was called phazung, but the other five great demon warriors remain. Nothing can stop them in the heat of battle. They were greatly outnumbered on the field where we ambushed them, but they killed off the ambush and escaped to warn the others in their vile tribe. The chance for defeating our elusive foe was lost, along with many lives."
Red turned the page.
"Four of the demons blood warriors have surrendered to us. They asked only that they could leave the land unharmed. In return they slew the remaining blood warrior and revealed the location the enemy's army. We have the demons in our custody now; they have given their names freely. Galian beast of the Kala sat, Hellmasker of the N'zac Zann, Death Gigas of the N'zac Zann and."
"Chaos of the N'zac Zann." Vincent finished behind him. "If you wanted to borrow my book you could have asked instead of sneaking in here in the dead of the night and taking a quick peek."
Red XIII jumped at the sound Vincent's voice.
"You were a bit, indisposed at the moment when I would have asked you the question. So, you have read these words and understood them?" Red replied.
"I never understood the words, he did."
Red nodded his furry head. There was no doubt who he was.
"The real question is if my four friends killed this fifth blood warrior or whatever, what happened to its spirit?" Vincent pondered.