Okay, sorry it took so long, but I was really busy during the holidays,
didn't have much time to write... you know how it is. Anyway, chapter 4,
right here.
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I wake up in the middle of the night. I haven't opened my eyes yet, so it takes a little while to remember where I am.
I open my eyes.
It's dark out. The blankets and linens feel soft on my skin. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the soft moonlight. When all the sleep is out of my eyes, I get out of my bed and pad over to the window.
The streets outside are empty, and the moonlight tosses shadows across the rooftops. It's so dark out that it almost seems as though everything has a blue tint. The wind blows fallen leaves across the cobblestone streets, making a sound similar to rain. For a moment, I have found peace.
I slip back over to my bed and prepare to go back to sleep when I hear something. It's not much, just a quiet, barely audible click, but it's enough to put me on edge. All of a sudden, the once quiet room is now full of sounds: a rat scratching at the walls, the rustle of clothing, the unsheathing of a dagger, the sound of it flying through the air.
I calmly reach for kikuichimoji and deflect the dagger, and the three more that soon follow it. I can sense the attacker's frustration. I pink up one of the daggers and pretend to inspect it for a while, waiting for the next attack. It never comes.
"Well, it's nice to know that your skills are as sharp as I've heard," a young woman's voice says, drawing closer.
I put down kikuichimoji and reach to the bedside table for my still warm chai. I pick up the cup and take a sip, pinky up and eyes closed. At the same time, the woman saunters over up next to me and slides her hand across my far shoulder to the one near her. I pretend to ignore her, but in reality I'm thinking, wow, she has soft hands! I put down the cup, but keep my eyes closed. She ruffles my hair with her hand and kisses up my neck before I gently push her away. I can feel the anger in her eyes burning into mine. I still haven't opened my eyes.
I spring them open and take a good look at her. A glance tells me she's a dancer, but a closer inspection reveals much more. She has short, jet black hair, at about three inches above shoulder length. She has sharp, almond shaped brown eyes, an Irish kind of nose, and small, but pursed, pink lips. She has a small and thin, almost frail looking body. What strikes me most about her body is how long it is and how flat but strong her stomach looks.
She shrugs off her anger in a moment, not used to the challenge of a failed seduction, but obviously tenacious enough to try again. She gives me a 120- watt smile, but in her eyes I can still see she's coldly calculating her next move.
"Well, I can see you're not going to be taken so easily, my friend," she says.
"Why are you here?" I ask her bluntly.
"Wha...what? How dare you ask me that!?" she screams, once again enraged. "I come here to try and-"
"Save it," I say, cutting her off. "Just get out. I need to sleep."
"I am not leaving!" she says, crawling into bed beside me. "If you want to sleep," she says, her voice becoming sultry," it's going to have to be with me."
"Fine, I won't sleep," I say, getting dressed. I grab kikuichimoji and walk out. I see, but ignore, her exasperated face.
I walk out into the hall, looking around and wondering what to do. I start to walk out when she runs out of the room and shouts to my back, "Don't you even want to know my name?"
"No," I say, without turning around. She runs in front of me and walks backward as I continue to walk forward.
"Well, I'm gonna tell ya anyway. The name's Phariseas Krakow," she says, extending her hand to be shaken. "Call me Phare."
"Yeah, whatever," I say. "I think I've made it pretty clear that I don't care, and yet you're still following me. What do you want with me?"
"What do you think?" she asks, biting her fore fingernail, getting all flirty again.
"Well, I gotta tell ya, I think you're a bad little girl who's plotting something." I say, grabbing her wrists and holding them up. "And you know what else? I don't want to know what you're doing," I say, throwing her wrists down. "So stop following me!" I storm off, out of the hotel.
"Fine!" she shouts after me, rubbing her wrists, "See if I care if something bad happens!" She curses under her breath then goes back in the room.
By the time I get to the stable to get Daedalus I've calmed down quite a bit. Since I still don't know what to do with myself, I slowly ride Daedalus around Dorter. Even though Dorter is a big city, there doesn't seem to be very much activity at night. Then again, it is pretty late, but that doesn't explain the utter lack of noise around me.
What that Phariseas girl said isn't making it any easier to lower my already nervous heart, either. It seemed as though she knew something was going to happen and was trying to keep me away from it. In fact, I'm almost sure of it. Now the only question is what, and why doesn't she want me there.
As I pass by an alley, I see a glow coming from around a corner in the alley. Being of an inquisitive nature, I tie Daedalus to a lamppost and head down the alley.
By the time I get halfway to the corner, my feeling of unease have greatly intensified, but by now curiosity has gotten the better of me. I know if I don't see what's happening I'll have an aneurism thinking about it.
When I get to the end I realize why I felt such a great unease. Five summoners in black and gray robes, instead of the usual green, stand in a circle with a pentacle of chalk connecting them. Four gold lamps with fires of sage from Zeklaus burn brightly in a square around them. Their bodies seem to be faintly glowing a very dark red. All of these signs bring me to one conclusion: they're summoning something very powerful, and it isn't going to be a soft and fuzzy Moogle.
All my instincts tell me to run, to flee before whatever it is that's coming squashes me like a little bug. But there's just one part of me, one very tiny part, calling out something the rest of me doesn't want to hear: if whatever pops up is as powerful as I think it will be, I will have a rare chance to absorb that power and make it my own. Of course, this tiny voice quickly turned into a loud roar, like a tidal wave about to break. Suddenly, my mind is awash with plots to copy whatever the summoners pull here.
As I look up from my plotting, I realize that the summoners are almost done chanting. A dark violet cylinder of light has arisen from the ground in the center. Words written in a language I am not familiar with glowing from the ground where none had been before. They are written in concentric circles, but touch neither the pentacle nor the cylinder.
As the summoners continue chanting they each pull out stones that shine brightly, each a different color: one red, one yellow, one blue, one green, one violet. They each point their respective stones at the cylinder, and, once their arms are fully extended, beams of the same color as the stones shoot out towards the cylinder. Once they hit, the cylinder they spread out, looking much like veins in a leaf. As the veins connect, they turn bright white and then black. A cracking sound is heard and the cylinder shatters, falling to the ground, fading away, and revealing the demon called to this world.
Quite frankly, this is more terrifying than anything I have ever done, seen, or even heard of. The flames in the gold lamps have gone out, and the area is lit, albeit poorly, by only the monster's emerald eyes. I can't see much, but there is one thing that I can, and that is what terrifies me the most. It is a huge sword, the strangest sword I have ever seen. It looks like a bon fire that has been flattened so as to be effective at slashing. It is made of the blackest iron, as black as the darkest midnight. But what scares me the most is the gleam coming from the sapphire embedded in the bottom of the hilt. It is the coldest thing I have ever felt. It makes it feel as though there is no sun, the world is cold and barren place, and hope is only a fantasy, a myth made up long ago in a sad, vain attempt to amuse children.
All thoughts of copying this demons powers have fled from my mind, as well as courage from my heart, and strength from my muscles. It is all I can do just to stay standing.
For several minuets nothing happens. The summoners, as well as the demon, are all standing motionless. The summoners are in awe of what they perceive to be their creation.
One of the summoners steps forward to talk to the demon, but before his first foot falls, he is struck down by the demon's sword. It was so fast I could barely tell that it had happened. The first summoner's death starts a chain reaction. Within seconds, all of them have been struck down. The demon's eyes fade, and all the light from the area is gone.
Now I am truly terrified. Not only can I not see, but I can't hear anything but my breathing. I usually have an excellent sense of direction, but in the all consuming darkness I am completely disoriented.
Suddenly, the lamps flare back to life and burn even brighter than before. The demon is in the same position as he was before, but I would guess he transformed in some way. Though I still get that cold feeling from him, I don't feel as terrified as before.
My strength and wits return to me, and I pull away from my hiding place to hopefully escape unnoticed. I turn to go, and behind me the demon has appeared. I didn't even see him move.
Now he is dressed elegantly, like a noble. He wears armor made of fine silver with a black moon engraved over where his heart would be, if he had one. What were once frightening eyes are now merely cold, green ones that seem to have a faint glow, like mako. His hair is trimmed fairly short and is the same color as his armor. A sword, a fairly normal looking one, hangs at his side. While not one for monochromatic dressing, even I must admit he looks good. Terrifying, but good.
He moves around me, slowly, silently, merely watching me. I am once again frozen. Though I have a great urge to run, I resist. I know that if I show even some small sign of weakness I am dead.
"Well," he says, "how did you like my christening ceremony? Though it is a bit, how do you humans say, over the top, I have always found flashy entrances a must." He continues circling me. "I must admit, I am surprised that you haven't yet run away. Most people would have run away right when they first saw me. But you...ah, I sense something different from you. A strange power, an otherworldly aura. Yes, you are definitely not from this plane of existence. We're both strangers in a strange land. That makes up practically brothers! Albeit brothers who are strangers, but brothers none the less!"
Though I still have a chill sup my spine, his airy attitude has loosened me up a bit. More than that, though, it confuses me. He just killed the five people, the five people responsible for bringing him here, no less, but now we are suddenly brothers? And how can he tell I have the copy skill? When in doubt, I follow my instincts, and my instincts say not to trust him.
"Come," he says grabbing my arm and putting his in mine, "let's go have a drink to celebrate out new friendship! By the way, I didn't catch your name. What is it, pray tell?"
"Janua Bakura," I say, with my best believable, fake, friendly smile.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Janua! My name is Sir Orcus, Luitenant Commander of the Lucav army. Now that we know each other, it's time for those drinks!" He cheerily pulls me toward the end of the alley, and I can't help but think one thing: how do I always manage to get myself into these things?
________________________________________________________________________
I wake up in the middle of the night. I haven't opened my eyes yet, so it takes a little while to remember where I am.
I open my eyes.
It's dark out. The blankets and linens feel soft on my skin. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the soft moonlight. When all the sleep is out of my eyes, I get out of my bed and pad over to the window.
The streets outside are empty, and the moonlight tosses shadows across the rooftops. It's so dark out that it almost seems as though everything has a blue tint. The wind blows fallen leaves across the cobblestone streets, making a sound similar to rain. For a moment, I have found peace.
I slip back over to my bed and prepare to go back to sleep when I hear something. It's not much, just a quiet, barely audible click, but it's enough to put me on edge. All of a sudden, the once quiet room is now full of sounds: a rat scratching at the walls, the rustle of clothing, the unsheathing of a dagger, the sound of it flying through the air.
I calmly reach for kikuichimoji and deflect the dagger, and the three more that soon follow it. I can sense the attacker's frustration. I pink up one of the daggers and pretend to inspect it for a while, waiting for the next attack. It never comes.
"Well, it's nice to know that your skills are as sharp as I've heard," a young woman's voice says, drawing closer.
I put down kikuichimoji and reach to the bedside table for my still warm chai. I pick up the cup and take a sip, pinky up and eyes closed. At the same time, the woman saunters over up next to me and slides her hand across my far shoulder to the one near her. I pretend to ignore her, but in reality I'm thinking, wow, she has soft hands! I put down the cup, but keep my eyes closed. She ruffles my hair with her hand and kisses up my neck before I gently push her away. I can feel the anger in her eyes burning into mine. I still haven't opened my eyes.
I spring them open and take a good look at her. A glance tells me she's a dancer, but a closer inspection reveals much more. She has short, jet black hair, at about three inches above shoulder length. She has sharp, almond shaped brown eyes, an Irish kind of nose, and small, but pursed, pink lips. She has a small and thin, almost frail looking body. What strikes me most about her body is how long it is and how flat but strong her stomach looks.
She shrugs off her anger in a moment, not used to the challenge of a failed seduction, but obviously tenacious enough to try again. She gives me a 120- watt smile, but in her eyes I can still see she's coldly calculating her next move.
"Well, I can see you're not going to be taken so easily, my friend," she says.
"Why are you here?" I ask her bluntly.
"Wha...what? How dare you ask me that!?" she screams, once again enraged. "I come here to try and-"
"Save it," I say, cutting her off. "Just get out. I need to sleep."
"I am not leaving!" she says, crawling into bed beside me. "If you want to sleep," she says, her voice becoming sultry," it's going to have to be with me."
"Fine, I won't sleep," I say, getting dressed. I grab kikuichimoji and walk out. I see, but ignore, her exasperated face.
I walk out into the hall, looking around and wondering what to do. I start to walk out when she runs out of the room and shouts to my back, "Don't you even want to know my name?"
"No," I say, without turning around. She runs in front of me and walks backward as I continue to walk forward.
"Well, I'm gonna tell ya anyway. The name's Phariseas Krakow," she says, extending her hand to be shaken. "Call me Phare."
"Yeah, whatever," I say. "I think I've made it pretty clear that I don't care, and yet you're still following me. What do you want with me?"
"What do you think?" she asks, biting her fore fingernail, getting all flirty again.
"Well, I gotta tell ya, I think you're a bad little girl who's plotting something." I say, grabbing her wrists and holding them up. "And you know what else? I don't want to know what you're doing," I say, throwing her wrists down. "So stop following me!" I storm off, out of the hotel.
"Fine!" she shouts after me, rubbing her wrists, "See if I care if something bad happens!" She curses under her breath then goes back in the room.
By the time I get to the stable to get Daedalus I've calmed down quite a bit. Since I still don't know what to do with myself, I slowly ride Daedalus around Dorter. Even though Dorter is a big city, there doesn't seem to be very much activity at night. Then again, it is pretty late, but that doesn't explain the utter lack of noise around me.
What that Phariseas girl said isn't making it any easier to lower my already nervous heart, either. It seemed as though she knew something was going to happen and was trying to keep me away from it. In fact, I'm almost sure of it. Now the only question is what, and why doesn't she want me there.
As I pass by an alley, I see a glow coming from around a corner in the alley. Being of an inquisitive nature, I tie Daedalus to a lamppost and head down the alley.
By the time I get halfway to the corner, my feeling of unease have greatly intensified, but by now curiosity has gotten the better of me. I know if I don't see what's happening I'll have an aneurism thinking about it.
When I get to the end I realize why I felt such a great unease. Five summoners in black and gray robes, instead of the usual green, stand in a circle with a pentacle of chalk connecting them. Four gold lamps with fires of sage from Zeklaus burn brightly in a square around them. Their bodies seem to be faintly glowing a very dark red. All of these signs bring me to one conclusion: they're summoning something very powerful, and it isn't going to be a soft and fuzzy Moogle.
All my instincts tell me to run, to flee before whatever it is that's coming squashes me like a little bug. But there's just one part of me, one very tiny part, calling out something the rest of me doesn't want to hear: if whatever pops up is as powerful as I think it will be, I will have a rare chance to absorb that power and make it my own. Of course, this tiny voice quickly turned into a loud roar, like a tidal wave about to break. Suddenly, my mind is awash with plots to copy whatever the summoners pull here.
As I look up from my plotting, I realize that the summoners are almost done chanting. A dark violet cylinder of light has arisen from the ground in the center. Words written in a language I am not familiar with glowing from the ground where none had been before. They are written in concentric circles, but touch neither the pentacle nor the cylinder.
As the summoners continue chanting they each pull out stones that shine brightly, each a different color: one red, one yellow, one blue, one green, one violet. They each point their respective stones at the cylinder, and, once their arms are fully extended, beams of the same color as the stones shoot out towards the cylinder. Once they hit, the cylinder they spread out, looking much like veins in a leaf. As the veins connect, they turn bright white and then black. A cracking sound is heard and the cylinder shatters, falling to the ground, fading away, and revealing the demon called to this world.
Quite frankly, this is more terrifying than anything I have ever done, seen, or even heard of. The flames in the gold lamps have gone out, and the area is lit, albeit poorly, by only the monster's emerald eyes. I can't see much, but there is one thing that I can, and that is what terrifies me the most. It is a huge sword, the strangest sword I have ever seen. It looks like a bon fire that has been flattened so as to be effective at slashing. It is made of the blackest iron, as black as the darkest midnight. But what scares me the most is the gleam coming from the sapphire embedded in the bottom of the hilt. It is the coldest thing I have ever felt. It makes it feel as though there is no sun, the world is cold and barren place, and hope is only a fantasy, a myth made up long ago in a sad, vain attempt to amuse children.
All thoughts of copying this demons powers have fled from my mind, as well as courage from my heart, and strength from my muscles. It is all I can do just to stay standing.
For several minuets nothing happens. The summoners, as well as the demon, are all standing motionless. The summoners are in awe of what they perceive to be their creation.
One of the summoners steps forward to talk to the demon, but before his first foot falls, he is struck down by the demon's sword. It was so fast I could barely tell that it had happened. The first summoner's death starts a chain reaction. Within seconds, all of them have been struck down. The demon's eyes fade, and all the light from the area is gone.
Now I am truly terrified. Not only can I not see, but I can't hear anything but my breathing. I usually have an excellent sense of direction, but in the all consuming darkness I am completely disoriented.
Suddenly, the lamps flare back to life and burn even brighter than before. The demon is in the same position as he was before, but I would guess he transformed in some way. Though I still get that cold feeling from him, I don't feel as terrified as before.
My strength and wits return to me, and I pull away from my hiding place to hopefully escape unnoticed. I turn to go, and behind me the demon has appeared. I didn't even see him move.
Now he is dressed elegantly, like a noble. He wears armor made of fine silver with a black moon engraved over where his heart would be, if he had one. What were once frightening eyes are now merely cold, green ones that seem to have a faint glow, like mako. His hair is trimmed fairly short and is the same color as his armor. A sword, a fairly normal looking one, hangs at his side. While not one for monochromatic dressing, even I must admit he looks good. Terrifying, but good.
He moves around me, slowly, silently, merely watching me. I am once again frozen. Though I have a great urge to run, I resist. I know that if I show even some small sign of weakness I am dead.
"Well," he says, "how did you like my christening ceremony? Though it is a bit, how do you humans say, over the top, I have always found flashy entrances a must." He continues circling me. "I must admit, I am surprised that you haven't yet run away. Most people would have run away right when they first saw me. But you...ah, I sense something different from you. A strange power, an otherworldly aura. Yes, you are definitely not from this plane of existence. We're both strangers in a strange land. That makes up practically brothers! Albeit brothers who are strangers, but brothers none the less!"
Though I still have a chill sup my spine, his airy attitude has loosened me up a bit. More than that, though, it confuses me. He just killed the five people, the five people responsible for bringing him here, no less, but now we are suddenly brothers? And how can he tell I have the copy skill? When in doubt, I follow my instincts, and my instincts say not to trust him.
"Come," he says grabbing my arm and putting his in mine, "let's go have a drink to celebrate out new friendship! By the way, I didn't catch your name. What is it, pray tell?"
"Janua Bakura," I say, with my best believable, fake, friendly smile.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Janua! My name is Sir Orcus, Luitenant Commander of the Lucav army. Now that we know each other, it's time for those drinks!" He cheerily pulls me toward the end of the alley, and I can't help but think one thing: how do I always manage to get myself into these things?