Author's Note: Well, 69 chapters (70 now) doesn't really say much,
considering that my chapters are extremely short, but this chapter does put
me over the 100,000 word mark, and last time I checked, there are only two
other stories to make that distinction. That makes me number three, which
is pretty cool. My dad calls this my novel as well, but I don't really
consider it that, because nobody besides ff.net would ever publish it, so I
kind of just think of it as a story. I may send in Crimson Wings to Sony,
however, just to laugh at them and show them what a crappy job they did of
translating the game into English, because it'll probably be almost as long
as this when I'm done with it. Speaking of which, I have no idea where one
could find a script for the game, but whenever I'm writing a chapter of
Crimson Wings, I just pull up a walkthrough of the game online. They have
the basic events and the summaries of what the characters talk about, and
besides, because of aforementioned horrible translation, I wouldn't want to
use the actual wordage anyway. That's about the best advice I can give you.
Artaeris as the new Divine Dragoon? That's an interesting idea, Aer, but remember, they already have Dart's former Spirit, and it didn't show reaction to Artaeris. But then again, Kyra's Spirit didn't react to her when she first stole it, because she altered her own destiny by joining the good guys. So you never know. Regrem, the idea is cool, but the idea of a gem from a Wingly artifact designed to DRAIN the power of Dragons turning into a Dragoon Spirit doesn't really make that much sense. Besides, the thing about the Prism Spirit is that it's supposed to be the last resort to restore the balance, but if Rayen swings to the wrong side, it will end up destroying the world instead. Does that make sense?
Chapter 70
Mr. O'Connor got off the mass transit train that delivered him daily to Lohan. He snatched a newspaper from a nearby stand, and unfurled it, his eyes darting over the lines of black type grimly. He folded it back up, shoved it in his briefcase, and resumed his march down the dreary streets of the huge commercial metropolis. The headlines were all the same, of course. Upon the Dragoons' entrance, the portal had mysteriously disappeared. Nobody could explain why, but naturally rumors clouded like swarms of insects.
Optimists maintained that it was a normal strategic maneuver, so that the enemy couldn't slip behind them and attack their dimension unprotected. Those with a slightly more morbid view insisted that their foes had sealed off the portal, and were now in the process of wiping out their last hope in one gigantic stroke. Then there were those in the middle, so bewildered by the whole thing they didn't know what to think. Despite knowing slightly more about the situation than most people, Joseph O'Connor classified himself in the latter group. The whole incident baffled him.
Closing the portal seemed like a sound enough decision in theory, but he couldn't see the common sense in it. Keeping your enemy out of your territory was all well and good enough, but why cut yourself off from the only place you could get supplies? Food didn't just materialize out of thin air, not even for Dragoons, and Mr. O'Connor seriously doubted they would find any in whatever dimension a horde of demons decided to make their home in. He was no general, but he did know his son, and he knew this was not like Rayen at all. Rayen was cautious; he liked to keep all his options open if he could. Unless others that he trusted convinced him, Rayen would not do something so rash. The more Joseph O'Connor thought about the situation, the more uneasy he got.
But he shoved these to the back of his mind. Worrying about his son wouldn't help Rayen anyway, and all it did was depress him. He reached his building and took the elevator up to the ninth floor. As he reached his cubicle, he sat down in his office chair and took the newspaper he had picked up back out of his briefcase. He flipped to the business section, only to be greeted by another predictable headline. Yet another article gushing over the successes of the BOA Corporation.
Consumer confidence was in the gutter, but the BOA Corp had managed to do what everyone in the business world could only dream of, and would gladly sell their souls to accomplish. After wallowing in a major slump and practically going under, it had gotten a sudden burst of Soa-knows-what and was now reporting its best profits in years. Joseph O'Connor didn't bother to suppress his own jealousy. A round of layoffs was coming, and he could only hope to duck under the ax. Being out of work was the last thing he needed right now.
He suddenly folded the newspaper, tossed it out of sight, and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't stop thinking about his son. With his wife dead, Rayen was all he had left. But now he was in command of an army of legendary heroes, off in another dimension fighting an army of demons bent on the destruction of all life. It was insane, and yet it was happening, and there was nothing the elder O'Connor could do to avoid it. He kept himself he was unable to do anything anyway, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
But worrying about it wouldn't make it better, as he had tried to convince himself earlier. Heaving a deep sigh, he swiveled around in the chair, booted up the computer at his desk, and started work.
************************************************************************
Once he got over the shock of seeing a human in what was supposed to be a lifeless world, Rayen examined this newcomer. He was young, about his age, give or take a year or two. He was dressed in simple clothing, which indicated that this dimension had not yet progressed beyond medieval technology. He was about medium height, and very thin, as though he were undernourished. He had sandy blonde hair and green eyes glowing with an inner intelligence. He appeared to be studying the group much in the same way they were studying him.
He repeated the question. "Who are you?"
Rayen vaguely gestured to where the portal had been.
"Ah, you've come to fight the demons."
"Yes. Now..."
The boy interrupted before Rayen could finish his sentence. "Who am I? My name is Abrian."
"How many humans live here?"
"Plenty."
"But don't the demons try to kill you off?"
"No, I guess they need somebody to do all their hard labor while they're throwing themselves through the portal at you."
"So you're slaves?"
Abrian nodded. "More or less. They leave us alone if we do our work."
"But there are revolts, right?"
"Oh, sure. All the time. But there's so many of the goddamn things it never makes much difference."
"Yeah, I know that feeling. So what are those big diamonds up there?"
Abrian looked to the sky just as a lightning bolt bounced off the diamonds in a dazzling sequence, like a pinball rebounding off bumpers. "Oh, those. This may sound weird, but I don't know. Nobody does. They've been there since before I was born. They appeared about the same time as the demons."
"Speaking of which, where did they come from?"
Abrian shrugged. "We don't know. From what little written records we have, they apparently just appeared out of nowhere about a thousand years ago."
That date coincided with the end of the Second Dragoon Campaign, and when the Murderer had supposedly begun to construct his dread army with the purpose of destroying all life. But if there were multiple dimensions, did that mean that the war was being fought in other worlds as well? The scale of such a battle was too all encompassing for Rayen to comprehend. Better to keep his mind on Endiness, at least for now.
He turned to Shade, giving him a questioning look. The Dark Dragoon nodded, his brown eyes filled with a bemused expression. So Shade believed Abrian's story. Rayen did also. The most convincing part was the vagueness, as strange as that might sound. The enemy would at least attempt to lie convincingly, instead of just shrugging it off.
"Hey, guys? You might want to check this out."
Phil held the bag of ownerless Spirits, which they had taken with them on a whim. In his other hand he clutched a Silver Spirit, which was pulsing with a clear radiance. All eyes simultaneously turned to Abrian, who stared back at the group, with the same puzzled expression on his face that he had worn when he had first seen the warriors.
Rayen felt himself flooded with relief, joy, and a sort of crazed amusement, all at once. The humans here could become Dragoons! What an incredible stroke of luck! This would nearly double the size of their army, not to mention the second Divine Dragoon. Rayen no longer cared about finding food for the soldiers, or suitable places to camp, or even the portal closing. The goddamn portal could go to hell for all he cared. They didn't even need to go back to Endiness anymore. All the replacements for the fallen could be found on this side anyway.
Rayen forced himself to remain calm as he addressed Abrian again. "Abrian, have you ever heard of Dragoons?"
Abrian shook his head. "We've heard some of the big demons called Dragons, but not Dragoons. Is that the same thing?"
"Sort of. See, Dragoons are humans who control the power of Dragons."
Abrian could clearly deduce where this was going. "That's what you people are, right?"
"What we are," Rayen corrected as he tossed the Silver Spirit to him.
As Abrian caught the Spirit, a column of silver light descended on him, and when it dissipated, he was clad in the armor of the Light Dragoon. With another flash of light, he held a sword in his hand. The blade of the weapon was chased with silver, so that it did not reflect the sun, but absorbed it, until the sword seemed to glow with its own inner light. The golden hilt's crosspieces were curved backwards, so that they were not only acted as a brace for his grip, but also provided a guard for his fingers should someone decide to chop them off. Abrian looked down at himself, then back up at Rayen and the others.
Rayen grinned and pulled out his own Spirit, which gave off its usual swirling tempest of colors. The others gradually followed suit, until the sky was bright with the Spirits' responses to the new Dragoon. Abrian stared with a sort of mix between amazement and numb disbelief.
"Wow."
Rayen smiled as he stowed the Spirit away in his pocket. "Yeah, that was more or less my reaction. Welcome to the club. Now, would you mind taking us to the village, or wherever we can find Humans? There are a lot more like you out there, and we've got plenty of Spirits to go around."
As Abrian marched down the hill, motioning for the others to follow, Rayen reached into the sack and pulled out the Divine Dragoon Spirit. As he lifted it to the village, it gave off a faint glimmer. With a satisfied smile, the Guardian Dragoon placed it back in the bag. Oh yes, it was a good day.
Author's Note: Yep, that's what's up with all those ownerless Spirits. Their owners are in this dimension. Mwahaha. Anyway, for those of you who want to know what I'm updating next, I'm working on Chapter 11 of Valley, which I might even get up later tonight, and then I'm going to TRY (key word there) to get Chapter 5 of Crimson Wings up before Tuesday, when Chapter 71 is due. K?
Artaeris as the new Divine Dragoon? That's an interesting idea, Aer, but remember, they already have Dart's former Spirit, and it didn't show reaction to Artaeris. But then again, Kyra's Spirit didn't react to her when she first stole it, because she altered her own destiny by joining the good guys. So you never know. Regrem, the idea is cool, but the idea of a gem from a Wingly artifact designed to DRAIN the power of Dragons turning into a Dragoon Spirit doesn't really make that much sense. Besides, the thing about the Prism Spirit is that it's supposed to be the last resort to restore the balance, but if Rayen swings to the wrong side, it will end up destroying the world instead. Does that make sense?
Chapter 70
Mr. O'Connor got off the mass transit train that delivered him daily to Lohan. He snatched a newspaper from a nearby stand, and unfurled it, his eyes darting over the lines of black type grimly. He folded it back up, shoved it in his briefcase, and resumed his march down the dreary streets of the huge commercial metropolis. The headlines were all the same, of course. Upon the Dragoons' entrance, the portal had mysteriously disappeared. Nobody could explain why, but naturally rumors clouded like swarms of insects.
Optimists maintained that it was a normal strategic maneuver, so that the enemy couldn't slip behind them and attack their dimension unprotected. Those with a slightly more morbid view insisted that their foes had sealed off the portal, and were now in the process of wiping out their last hope in one gigantic stroke. Then there were those in the middle, so bewildered by the whole thing they didn't know what to think. Despite knowing slightly more about the situation than most people, Joseph O'Connor classified himself in the latter group. The whole incident baffled him.
Closing the portal seemed like a sound enough decision in theory, but he couldn't see the common sense in it. Keeping your enemy out of your territory was all well and good enough, but why cut yourself off from the only place you could get supplies? Food didn't just materialize out of thin air, not even for Dragoons, and Mr. O'Connor seriously doubted they would find any in whatever dimension a horde of demons decided to make their home in. He was no general, but he did know his son, and he knew this was not like Rayen at all. Rayen was cautious; he liked to keep all his options open if he could. Unless others that he trusted convinced him, Rayen would not do something so rash. The more Joseph O'Connor thought about the situation, the more uneasy he got.
But he shoved these to the back of his mind. Worrying about his son wouldn't help Rayen anyway, and all it did was depress him. He reached his building and took the elevator up to the ninth floor. As he reached his cubicle, he sat down in his office chair and took the newspaper he had picked up back out of his briefcase. He flipped to the business section, only to be greeted by another predictable headline. Yet another article gushing over the successes of the BOA Corporation.
Consumer confidence was in the gutter, but the BOA Corp had managed to do what everyone in the business world could only dream of, and would gladly sell their souls to accomplish. After wallowing in a major slump and practically going under, it had gotten a sudden burst of Soa-knows-what and was now reporting its best profits in years. Joseph O'Connor didn't bother to suppress his own jealousy. A round of layoffs was coming, and he could only hope to duck under the ax. Being out of work was the last thing he needed right now.
He suddenly folded the newspaper, tossed it out of sight, and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't stop thinking about his son. With his wife dead, Rayen was all he had left. But now he was in command of an army of legendary heroes, off in another dimension fighting an army of demons bent on the destruction of all life. It was insane, and yet it was happening, and there was nothing the elder O'Connor could do to avoid it. He kept himself he was unable to do anything anyway, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
But worrying about it wouldn't make it better, as he had tried to convince himself earlier. Heaving a deep sigh, he swiveled around in the chair, booted up the computer at his desk, and started work.
************************************************************************
Once he got over the shock of seeing a human in what was supposed to be a lifeless world, Rayen examined this newcomer. He was young, about his age, give or take a year or two. He was dressed in simple clothing, which indicated that this dimension had not yet progressed beyond medieval technology. He was about medium height, and very thin, as though he were undernourished. He had sandy blonde hair and green eyes glowing with an inner intelligence. He appeared to be studying the group much in the same way they were studying him.
He repeated the question. "Who are you?"
Rayen vaguely gestured to where the portal had been.
"Ah, you've come to fight the demons."
"Yes. Now..."
The boy interrupted before Rayen could finish his sentence. "Who am I? My name is Abrian."
"How many humans live here?"
"Plenty."
"But don't the demons try to kill you off?"
"No, I guess they need somebody to do all their hard labor while they're throwing themselves through the portal at you."
"So you're slaves?"
Abrian nodded. "More or less. They leave us alone if we do our work."
"But there are revolts, right?"
"Oh, sure. All the time. But there's so many of the goddamn things it never makes much difference."
"Yeah, I know that feeling. So what are those big diamonds up there?"
Abrian looked to the sky just as a lightning bolt bounced off the diamonds in a dazzling sequence, like a pinball rebounding off bumpers. "Oh, those. This may sound weird, but I don't know. Nobody does. They've been there since before I was born. They appeared about the same time as the demons."
"Speaking of which, where did they come from?"
Abrian shrugged. "We don't know. From what little written records we have, they apparently just appeared out of nowhere about a thousand years ago."
That date coincided with the end of the Second Dragoon Campaign, and when the Murderer had supposedly begun to construct his dread army with the purpose of destroying all life. But if there were multiple dimensions, did that mean that the war was being fought in other worlds as well? The scale of such a battle was too all encompassing for Rayen to comprehend. Better to keep his mind on Endiness, at least for now.
He turned to Shade, giving him a questioning look. The Dark Dragoon nodded, his brown eyes filled with a bemused expression. So Shade believed Abrian's story. Rayen did also. The most convincing part was the vagueness, as strange as that might sound. The enemy would at least attempt to lie convincingly, instead of just shrugging it off.
"Hey, guys? You might want to check this out."
Phil held the bag of ownerless Spirits, which they had taken with them on a whim. In his other hand he clutched a Silver Spirit, which was pulsing with a clear radiance. All eyes simultaneously turned to Abrian, who stared back at the group, with the same puzzled expression on his face that he had worn when he had first seen the warriors.
Rayen felt himself flooded with relief, joy, and a sort of crazed amusement, all at once. The humans here could become Dragoons! What an incredible stroke of luck! This would nearly double the size of their army, not to mention the second Divine Dragoon. Rayen no longer cared about finding food for the soldiers, or suitable places to camp, or even the portal closing. The goddamn portal could go to hell for all he cared. They didn't even need to go back to Endiness anymore. All the replacements for the fallen could be found on this side anyway.
Rayen forced himself to remain calm as he addressed Abrian again. "Abrian, have you ever heard of Dragoons?"
Abrian shook his head. "We've heard some of the big demons called Dragons, but not Dragoons. Is that the same thing?"
"Sort of. See, Dragoons are humans who control the power of Dragons."
Abrian could clearly deduce where this was going. "That's what you people are, right?"
"What we are," Rayen corrected as he tossed the Silver Spirit to him.
As Abrian caught the Spirit, a column of silver light descended on him, and when it dissipated, he was clad in the armor of the Light Dragoon. With another flash of light, he held a sword in his hand. The blade of the weapon was chased with silver, so that it did not reflect the sun, but absorbed it, until the sword seemed to glow with its own inner light. The golden hilt's crosspieces were curved backwards, so that they were not only acted as a brace for his grip, but also provided a guard for his fingers should someone decide to chop them off. Abrian looked down at himself, then back up at Rayen and the others.
Rayen grinned and pulled out his own Spirit, which gave off its usual swirling tempest of colors. The others gradually followed suit, until the sky was bright with the Spirits' responses to the new Dragoon. Abrian stared with a sort of mix between amazement and numb disbelief.
"Wow."
Rayen smiled as he stowed the Spirit away in his pocket. "Yeah, that was more or less my reaction. Welcome to the club. Now, would you mind taking us to the village, or wherever we can find Humans? There are a lot more like you out there, and we've got plenty of Spirits to go around."
As Abrian marched down the hill, motioning for the others to follow, Rayen reached into the sack and pulled out the Divine Dragoon Spirit. As he lifted it to the village, it gave off a faint glimmer. With a satisfied smile, the Guardian Dragoon placed it back in the bag. Oh yes, it was a good day.
Author's Note: Yep, that's what's up with all those ownerless Spirits. Their owners are in this dimension. Mwahaha. Anyway, for those of you who want to know what I'm updating next, I'm working on Chapter 11 of Valley, which I might even get up later tonight, and then I'm going to TRY (key word there) to get Chapter 5 of Crimson Wings up before Tuesday, when Chapter 71 is due. K?