A/N: Um...I KNOW I'M LATE I'M SO SORRY!!!!! GODS! I've just completely spaced out…stopped thinking about it for weeks….months…O_O…in the end, only your reviews kept me going…thank you to everybody who reviewed…^_^…you are the reason this chapter is here. ^_^..THANKYOUTHANKYOU!!!! Um...lets see. Thanks to everybody who physically beat my head into a wall to get me to write the fic…I appreciate..^_^…yeah…Well, tell if like and don't forget, READ AND REVIEW!
Disclaimer: LOD belongs to Squaresoft, and Rap's (whose numerous works have given her more rights to it then all those money grubbers in Squaresoft combined.)^_^…yeah
~Lady Crysania Majere
And now…on with the fic…
Souls in Silver Midnight
Chapter two: Revelations
By Lady Crysania Majere
For that second, Lloyd was
completely frozen, the shock of recognition slightly more than his already
stressed mind could tolerate. The fact that this human –Rose, if he recalled correctly-
was scrutinizing him in a fashion much akin to the way a scientist examines a
bug, was not helping either. Returning her stare (though not without effort) he
reevaluated the situation, found less than meager clues to what was going on,
discounted them as insane, then assessed the situation a third time. The
results were the same.
A Human (female, though he
didn't particularly count it against her), was analyzing him in a fashion that
suggested she had all the intention of crushing him under her boot heel. An
impossible achievement, he reminded himself, nervously holding the dissecting
gaze of the twin violet eyes.
That being also had far more
power then was (in all sane means) possible for a HUMAN to possess, even if
they did hold one of the Dragoon Stones (commonly referred to as Spirits)
.
Of the Stone itself, well,
that was just and added bonus. Discounting the rarity of possessing such an
object, it would have to be (if only
to mess with his mind) the Spirit belonging to the Dragoon of Darkness. The
one, and only, Dragoon that had managed to escape death in the first Dragon
Campaign. Not a mean feat, he recalled with a shudder. It had been more than
difficult for him, and he hadn't had
the remainder of the Wingly Empire out for his blood. But that was really
beside the point. The Stone had never been found. Its one (previously believed only) owner had been lost in times great
obscurity, her stone with her. And then it had had to be found. By a reserved (if slightly cynical), impossibly powerful,
non-Wingly, who had preceded to acquire a large grudge on his unoffending (or
so Lloyd told himself) personage, save the world, die in the process,
unceremoniously latch herself on to his unwitting soul in an area he was
assuming to be one hell of a purgatory, and then GLARE at him as if it was HIS
fault. Joy. Lloyd rarely lowered himself to care about life's injustices, or to
sink to the point of what most referred to as self-pity. But today was an
exception. Only two words could really express the unfairness of Today.
Why me?
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Disgruntled though he was,
(and perhaps disgruntled was an understatement) his pride would let him go not
another step down the path of humiliation. His face, of this he was positive,
still wore its unchanging mask, his body still held the stance of indifferent
calm. Maintaining that tranquility, he coolly offered a hand down into the dark
space that had served as the Dark warrior's final resting place. In response,
the aforesaid 'warrior of darkness' transferred her unblinking glare from his
placid face onto the extended appendage, looking for all the world as if the
outstretched palm were some bizarre monstrosity. For a second, Lloyd believed
she would scorn even that minor courtesy, leaving them both to sit (or in
Lloyd's case, stand) in that desert wasteland for the rest of eternity. In the
end, however, she did not. Lifting her own calloused and scar blemished one,
she met his hand with the firm grip that distinguished many a creature of war.
He had expected no less. With a heave just as firm as the two clasped hands,
Lloyd easily brought the Dragoon of Darkness to her upright position, realizing
rather belatedly that the only reason she had let him do it in the first place
had everything to do with curtsey and nothing at all to do with required aid.
For a full two seconds they just stood there, a pair of tall, calm, distant,
untouchable figures in the morning's first rays. It was Rose who broke the
stillness, however. With an almost imperceptible nod of the head, (he guessed
in…. thanks?) she began to turn, her glacial eyes taking in the lands ruinous
form. A second later, their eyes met, and her head snapped back with such
force, he guessed some invisible power might have struck her. The indigo eyes
widened a fraction in incredulity and what he took to be recognition, as her
lips parted, to utter a sound of both disbelief and shock,
"Wingly!"
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It was, of course,
he realized, meant as form of personal address, rather than a name. If he
recalled correctly she had labeled him the same way on the journey to bring the
moon objects to Diaz, in the Capital Vellweb. Zeig, he corrected himself. Not
Diaz, Zeig. No, Frama. Not Zeig…. Damn! But still. His patience, usually
infinite to the point of unfeasibility, was wearing thin, fraying by the
second. The use of the species name opposed to his own almost knocked it off
the edge. Almost. But it held, his scraps and shards of dignity preserving his
tolerance from complete implosion. Dignity or not, however, one callous remark
deserved another. With all the sarcasm, mocking, and fake shock the day had
provided, he hurled it back at her,
"Human!"
The word came out
quite nicely. Very nicely indeed, if he was to be the judge. Somehow, he had
managed to inflict distaste, disgust, sarcasm, scorn, haughtiness, and twenty
other disdainful emotions all in to the single word. He watched her eyes narrow
almost imperceptibly. He expected it would have taken her at least a sentence to inflict the same
damage, probably a run-on too. Lloyd permitted his mouth to turn up just
slightly before feeling it go dry and instantly turn down again. One sentence, eh? A small, chiding voice
spoke within him. One sentence?! All
_she_ needs is a glare…
And it was
true. The power, sarcasm, derision, cynicism, disparagement, and utter scorn
that played expertly in her violet eyes, yet managed to escape marring her face
made her previous glower seem… harmless? Habitual? Mundane? All three? For a
moment, Lloyd came as close to flinching as he ever had in his 11,000 some
years of life. Almost cringed. Almost. He didn't of course. The day may truly
have been one of the more eventful occasions of his life, this human a complete vexation, and enigma.
But she was only human. At the most, twenty-five. The day? He'd been through
worse. So, reigning in his wits, he let the mask covering his face harden to a
bored look, his figure take a impassive stance, his wings (the only outward
sign of his power) slip noiselessly away. Almost lazily he reclined into his
stance as well as his features, and began what would be called, on slightly
less mature groundings, a staring contest.
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Perhaps it had been
an hour since he had begun it, perhaps a minute. Whichever it was, both sides
seem to acknowledge the unspoken rule of eye contact. Both sides had also gone
through and doled out what could have
been called intimidation. Lloyd had already tried 50 different types of disdain
and 20 styles of bored. No words had been uttered as of his last and did not
seem to want to be uttered yet. The Bond in his head purred contentedly. Sometimes things that do not WANT to be done
must be done anyway.
"This really is childish, you realize?"
Her answer. Calm collected. " I know."
"Why not stop then?"
"Why not you?"
Silence. Then…
Sarcastic. "Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?"
"My parents were killed by Winglies."
The corner of
Lloyd's eye twitched just the slightest. _That_ was the closest he'd ever come
to flinching. If you didn't count it as a flinch itself. He hadn't thought…
hadn't considered… did Winglies still do that, in this day and age…? Not
matter. He'd really set himself up for that one. It was the oldest, most
selective, most potent way to completely vanquish an opponent in the type of
battle he waged now. 'Sorry' was really the only correct answer, and that in
itself was capitulation. He couldn't lose this, mustn't lose this, there had to be another way. Please let there
be another way. From the walled off section of his mind, the Bond began to hum
again, and words unbidden, sacred, yet irrelevant passed across his tongue,
"And mine by the Black Monster."
Lloyd was in no way
prepared for the impact of his lexis. The pallid color that immediately assumed
the stoic face before him almost made him regret the words, which to him, had
seemed to hold so little meaning. The Bond twitched painfully in the back of
his head, as for an entire second he watched the color drain from the warrior
before him, and a look of distant horror pass over her features. Then it was
gone. The facade assumed its lawful place on her features. She was as cold and
remote as she had ever been, if slightly ashen. Then, in the blink of an eye,
he was slammed unceremoniously onto the rubble, the Dark Dragoons rapier
resting lightly on the exposed flesh of his neck. Dazed, he waited for and
explanation, and was rewarded when she spoke.
"You strike a low blow Wingly."
"It's Lloyd. And so do you." The blade pressed none too gently into
his skin. He wished he had some idea what they were talking about.
"True." She paused and let up slightly on the swords force. As an
afterthought, "I hadn't thought you'd known."
He wasn't entirely sure how to answer. He gambled. "I guessed."
Her eyebrow arched elegantly, and with a voice full of all her old skepticism:
"You guessed?"
"Yes." Bluffing, how interesting. The blade was now hovering over the
spot where it had once almost entered his neck.
"How?"
"Does it matter?" Soa, he prayed, let her believe me, and if it isn't
too much, let me know what's going on.
"I suppose it not. The dragoon stone?"
"Partly." What in the hell?
For a second, there was
silence then, "I grew careless, I suppose. Lazy even. No one knew, everyone
assumed. Always 'He', it wasn't hard to let something slip. I knew too much,
forgot that there were people who could recognize what knowing meant. Still. It
never would have happened two thousand- a thousand, years ago."
It was the longest speech he'd ever heard from her, still, if Lloyd had thought himself bewildered before, it was nothing compared to now. Careless…? Lazy…? Somehow he couldn't see it. Assume? 'He'? Slip? A thousand….two thousand…years? She hadn't even been born then! What happen? Let what slip?
In this situation, ambiguous answers were always best. "Perhaps."
"Did you guess" she said the word as if totally disgusted, though now it seemed with herself, "then, at the rest of it? Or do you only know that part?"
I don't know any of it, Lloyd replied mentally, then with added sarcasm; there's a second part? This would be tricky. He did not see 'perhaps,' or 'maybe' working as an answer. The Bond. It had gotten him into this, it could damn well get him out. He let words pass his lips, not thinking.
"Guess? Not likely. Assumed. After you know the first, the second is…obvious." Lloyd pondered over his words. They made no sense, a first and second what? Obvious why? What?
Still, it did not surprise him much when she nodded. Well didn't surprise him more than he'd already been surprised. The Bond gave him several subconscious answers that were allowing him to prevent the rapier hovering undecidedly above his neck from severing his jugular, and he was beginning to trust those instincts. While it was likely he could have escaped the sword by magic, that way would leave him both with his cover blown and as ignorant as he began, which Lloyd was not sure he could live with.
Again, she nodded. This time slowly, as if she too were trying to make sense of things. To herself, she muttered, "Of course…the first appearance would have been at around the same time. The abrupt vanishing would have been notable. Too much coincidence. The Spirit matched… I knew to much." At this point she paused and nodded once again. "Put two and two together…" Lloyd noticed now that the blades tip had sunk, to point at his collarbone. Testing her attention, he allowed his hand a single twitch. Abruptly, and with a near impossible speed the sword tip was once more pressing rudely into his neck, where just the slightest increase in force would break skin. Lloyd allowed his mouth to curve upward in the tiniest of wry smiles. Vigilant. Completely vigilant. He had no doubt that even the harshest Wingly officers during the time of the Empire could have faulted her on that.
"I would not try that if I were you Wingly. Now kindly explain how you came to your conclusion. Your guess."
"Why?"
"If I am to fix mistakes I must know them. You have already pointed out I am obvious."
Damn. This was getting grim. "You wouldn't understand." Bad idea. He felt a single droplet of blood well up beneath the blade. Very bad idea.
"Why, Wingly?" From the tone of her voice, Lloyd was guessing a wrong answer would be most uncomfortable for him.
"You're too young." He spoke quickly, confident his answer would satisfy, if irritate. She was at most twenty-five, after all. For half a second, he believed it had worked. Instead, he saw, for the second time in his life (and probably last), the Dragoon of Darkness utterly astonished. Her violet eyes widened, and she pulled her sword abruptly away. Towering over his sprawled form she looked down at him, pure incredulity dancing in her eyes. For half a minute all she did was mouth unintelligible words. Then, with no more warning then the end of her silent litany, she pulled her head back and made the most astonishing sound the wastelands' desert plain had ever heard.
The laugh rang clear across the devastate land, distorted by the random heaps of ruble. It was soft, almost inaudible, yet cutting, and slightly reticent, as if the owner had not laughed in a long, long time. Lloyd did not particularly doubt that.
Unexpectedly, the laughter was cut short, "Wingly, you are a decent liar."
Disappointment flooded him. He had been discovered. "Maybe. I didn't lie though. By definition, I never told an untruth. You assumed." Well…maybe he had bent the truth a little.
For a moment, she studied him, as if searching for the flaw in his logic. As he expected, she either did not find it, or did not care to show she knew what it was. Instead she spoke, her dark amethyst eyes narrowed. "In all of 11,000 years Wingly, I have never once underestimated an my opponent. Always have I given them the benefit of the doubt. It has saved my life more times then I care to remember. But never, never until today have I so grossly overestimated."
He returned the stare. "Underestimated. You underestimated me. I bluffed. You were tricked. A case of under estimation if I have ever seen one."
Their eyes were locked, and in Lloyd's head, the nonsensical information he had gleaned was swirling around chaotically.
The Spirit of the Darkness Dragon… The Spirits matched …survived… abrupt vanishing… first appearance…coincidence…"I knew to much"…. Careless… lazy… always 'He'…. A thousand…Two thousand years ago… all of 11,000 years…you're too young…wrong…laughter…to know one is to know the other…put two and two together… and you get…. In a single second, everything lined up. The puzzle pieces slipped as easily into place as if some invisible force had arranged them there.
The voice of some long forgotten textbook spoke in his mind.
Following the fall of the Wingly Empire, the spirit of the darkness dragoon was lost forever with its owner…
God no.
Around the same time that one of the most sinister legends came to power…
It wasn't possible. Lloyd's mind reeled in horror. This was not possible.
Darker and more terrible than anything before, its presence heralded by each 108th year…
Rose stood over him, making some comment his stunned mind did not register.
The Black monster was to become the most prominent symbol for evil since the concept of Beelzebub…He had thought her too powerful for a human.
God no.
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It was a place much fabled and speculated on. Legend, as well as all the great ballads, mentioned it at least once, though none could ever agree upon its whereabouts or appearance. It was said to be anywhere from at the bottom of the sea to a bedroom closet, its appearance to be everything from a gold gilded garden, to an obscure bookstore. In truth, it was a small place, fairly modest, trees growing sparsely along its edges, there, however, was the end of its normality. The floor was sky, clear blue with the occasional cloud adding a wispy white tinge to the ground. The trees silver and emerald. But this was not at all the reason of its fame. That lay in the center of the garden. A huge mirror, a patch of silver, placed upon a enormous pedestal of marble, tinted with small veins of gold. Metallic colored roses, copper, gold, silver, platinum, as well as mixes of the alloys bloomed around the edges of the mirror, emphasizing its lack of other adornment. The plainness however, simply served as camouflage for what could be considered the largest scrying glass in the Endiness. To the observer, it would show whatever asked, anywhere, anyplace, anytime, perfectly clear, so that anyone disturbing the surface of the pool would disturb that place as well. Thus the clearing had gotten its tittle; Timesbane. In it, the past, present, and future could be seen as clearly as here and now, and changed. And of all things she had ever made, Soa was most proud of this invention.
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Deep in the darkness that was Between, the Wind stirred, its attention momentarily taken from its prey. Stretching its power, it searched in its prison for the thing it knew to be out of place. Tendrils of its being spread south, screeching in a dark lament, to find nothing. The exit those tiny mortal souls could slip through were still too small for him. West, still nothing. The plains of black stretched infinitely onward as they always had. Black; such a dull color. East: nothing, in every way, the land just a parody of the west. North…something… The entrance was…torn. Excitement stirred in the archaic being as he sent more and more of himself to examine the gaping hole between life and purgatory. It was still there. How…? Dimly, he recalled something fighting against those smallest currents of his power. He had been too busy to notice it then, a creature of monstrous proportions having just entered. The Wind had fed quite well on the soul of what called itself the 'God of Destruction', though it had been long and tedious chore to subdue it. And in that time…something had escaped. Keening in a wild lament of terrible exhilaration The Wind soared across the barren plains, scattering souls into disarray as he did so. Then he was there, the yawning wound in the Barrier bleeding Life into his prison of eternal shadow. Carefully he put the tiniest tendril of himself into the open, feeling again the sensation of ultimate power as the smoky wisp took on a solid quality. Carefully anchoring most of his power in Between, he let his sentient self slip into Life. Forming a body of decent proportions the Wind, who had once been a thing called Chaos, scanned the world around him. Delicately, he tore a hole in the time space continuum. Now for some fun.
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Soa, goddess of all, watched the pair of mortals through Her mirror. They were so naïve. Perhaps not as naive as most mortals, (though their ability to cause mayhem seemed to make up for that), but naive they were nonetheless. Her perfect lips pursed into perfect irritation. She wished greatly She could send a random bolt of lightning to split their blasphemous heads. That of course, was now impossible. After they had escaped death a first time, letting Chaos out of purgatory, She had barely managed to shut him up again. She grimaced slightly (perfectly) at the thought. She had been sure no one could rival Her power, unfortunately, She was proven very wrong when, with a great effort, She had barely managed to spin Chaos back into Between. The only reasons She had been able seal him back at all, She admitted to Herself, was Her extraordinary luck, the element of surprise, and the fact that Chaos (or The Wind as most called him) had still preserved most of his powers in Between. Spinning him back into it and patching the hole had forced Her to exert more power than She had since creating the Endiness, and even then, Chaos had not left with nothing accomplished. She shied away from the thought. That could be dealt with later. In the mean time, Her divine presence was none to willing to test and see what would happen if the mortals died again. The prospect of facing a expecting, fully prepared Chaos sent a slight shiver down her spine.
"Cold, M'lady?"
Soa had known him to be there, but the voice behind Her made her start nonetheless. Turning, She gave the knight one of Her more benign smiles.
" I have told you before my child, cold is something that only effects mortal. It does not touch me." She watched as the knight's worried gaze dissipated under Her smile. He had, of course, like all the others, undergone Change. Change being the transferring of all loyalty, love, adoration, and awe from things in your mortal life, multiplied around a bit, then transferred to Soa. If a creature did not love or lust for anything, be it riches, people, or power, infusions were necessary, so that all could give proper homage to Her presence. The knight was not, however, one of the former. He had a loyalty to King and country, which She had carefully transferred after the event of his untimely death. This should have left Her with another adoring, if slightly mindless, follower. It had, amazingly, not. He, like others before him, would follow Her around like an overly infatuated guard dog if allowed, but that was where similarities ended. He seemed to not have the bowing and scraping down, nor the proper address, nor etiquette appropriate from mortal spirit to goddess. While even the rudest of spirits called Her the short, uncouth, "Devine and Heavenly Mother" this…this mortal deemed a simple "M'lady" suffice! That, and the occasional, "Majesty"! Like She was a human, albeit, a royal one. So Change, which had subdued even the greatest mortals, (Melbu Frama, Fuast, all but one of the original dragoons) had left this human virtually unaltered, thus he was Her puzzle, and, until solved, She would tolerate his vulgar language. Unfortunately, She had bigger problems then Her personal mystery at the moment.
"Is there anything I can do for M'lady then?" Courteous at least. But She wasn't in the mood for his consideration right now. Just as She was about to dismiss him, an idea struck her.
"Lavitz my child? When you where alive you knew the human Rose." It was a statement rather then a question, but he answered it anyway.
"Yes, M'lady."
"You know of her recent death?"
"No M'lady."
"Then you haven't heard of her recent escape from purgatory?"
The knight's eyes widened. "Escape…?"
"Yes. Another helped her."
"But…The Wind…Chaos…?"
"Escaped, my child. I managed to seal him away again. But not before he did…damage."
"Damage Majesty? But surely M'Lady can fix the problem." He spoke with confidence. For a second she forgave the 'M'lady'.
"Even I cannot fix a person, my child. Not without killing, and I would not care to see what would happen if a Chaos-being joined the original in Between."
"What is this thing Majesty? How did he create it? It is human?" Immediately the knight seemed to get a hold of himself. Bowing his head he spoke, "Forgive me M'lady, I spoke out of turn, but I am unsettled by the news."
Again she smiled at him. "That is understandable, Lavitz my child, it is only reasonable to be anxious. For your first and third question, no, it is not human, but a hybrid. Nothing that hasn't been done before. A combination of human and Wingly blood. They are referred to as Dragon Angels, and are quite powerful" That was an understatement. "For your second question, he traveled through time and used a pair of humans to create the child. He took the unformed creature before it was born and brought it back to this time fully formed. It was then I accosted him. One of the humans he used was your Rose."
The one time Dragoon Lavitz froze for a second, and Soa felt something in the back of his mind stirring. Something he had managed to hide from Her. Anger blazed. How had he…?! How dare he! She sent a small bit of power to find what was hidden. Only to find Her way blocked by a semi-transparent wall of green flames. She could have crushed the defense in a second, but first She would have an explanation.
Calmly. "What have you hid from me mortal?"
For a second he seemed truly puzzled. "M'Lady? Hid? I…" he trailed off then, a light crimson touched his cheeks. "I…M'lady, I mean to say…I did not think it was important. I…M'lady, I had…awhile ago…M'lady…I had…had an affection for…Rose M'lady…I am sorry I hid it from you M'lady." He bowed his head, half, She believed, to hide the blush.
He had had a…Soa raised an eyebrow. Mortals were such strange creatures. He had not hid military secrets, spells, or any power at all from her eyes, yet a simple affection had been concealed and protected against even her eyes, how amusing humans could be! Better then not to tell him of the second person Chaos had chosen for his experiment. Soa smiled slightly, it would probably not go over well with his little mortal heart if She were to tell him that his murderer and object of past affection had been twisted irrevocably into a perverse relationship. Very well. Smiling slightly, She turned back to the mirror. Reaching out a slender, perfect, hand, She put Her entire palm through the mirror. Behind her, she heard the confused voice of her puzzle.
"M'lady?"
She ignored him, placing Her other hand into the mirror.
"Majesty?"
Slowly a golden light began to bloom about Her hands, in seconds it had completely enveloped Her. She felt Her physical form dissipate as She was transported to earth.
Manipulating was so much easier when the manipulantees' thought they knew what they were facing. This would be interesting. Interesting indeed.
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M/A/N: MORE AUTHORS NOTE!!! MWHAAHHAHA!!!! Yeah..^_^…hope you liked it *sighs* I thought it was a bit confusing and such.._…I MADE SOA A BITCH!!! ^_^!!!! Weird is definitely a word to be used…and I took so loooooooong.._ THANK YOU EVERY ONE WHO REVIEWED!!!! IT WAS YOU WHO KEPT ME WRITING!!! THANK YOU SAPPHY, MY BETA-READER!!!!!! LONG THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!!! ^_^ *HUGE truck drives in…followed by nother, and nother and nother…* as I promised…COOKIES!!! ^_^!!!!! CHOSE YOUR TRUCK 'CAUSE YOU DESERVE IT!!! ^_^!!! COOKIES TO ALL!!!!!!! ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO NOTICED!!! ^_^ AND REVIEWED!!!! ^_^!!!!!!!!!! I NOW HAVE COOKIES FOR ALL!
'Nywayz…^_^…I've got a poll I need to know what you think on…for future story reference…
Poll: I think Soa/Lavitz is…
EEEW!!! EW!! EW EW EW!!!!! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!!! ANYONE WHO THINKS THAT WAY IS DISGUSTING!!!!! IF YOU EVER MENTION THAT AGAIN I WILL FLAME!! AND HURL!!! AGAIN!!!! ON YOU!!!! DIEDIEDIE!!! SICKSICK MIND!! @_@
You. Are. Gross. Ok? Gross. Lavitz. Soa? Ew. Nuff said.
Lavitz and Soa? I dun think so. I mean. If you like it. That's ok. But keep it to your self.
Lavitz and Soa? OK pairing if ya ask me. Dun let it interfere with the story tho.
Lavitz and Soa? Cool. When you have to mention Soa tho, or Lavitz, make it kinda a romance please.
Lavitz Soa. COOL! ^_^…new pairing idea…nice…please include in story.
LAVITZ SOA!! LOVE THE PAIRING!!!!! YAY!!!! L/S 4EVER!!!!! ^_^!!! MWAHAAHAH!!!!! MAKE THE MAIN ROMANCE L/S!!! YEAH!!!!!!
Other: your words.
Yeah..thanks..please do poll..^_^…R/R…CHOCOLATE BARS IF YOU NOTICED ALL THE R/L WAS IN LLOYD'S POV!!! ^_^
~LCM