You know, I re-read some of my earlier chapters, and looked at some of the
newer ones, and realized that the quality of the chapters Jolted upward
slightly! I mean, I actually did a few paragraphs WITHOUT using dialogue.
(I've relied heavily upon dialogue in the past, I know. Have mercy on my
writing.) the reason for this is because I've STOPPED plating games, and
started to read again (But, where are the pictures?)
You know, when listening to songs like 'Tijuana taxi' when writing is kinda fun. Everyone kinda dances in your head corny dances that would make an old man blush. Very funny...
Also, I realize that this story will now be contradicting Jarred's story, but you know what? I don't like that one. It was filled with errors, bad plot and pointlessness. I'll just integrate Jarred's story into this one somehow. Maybe.
Anyway, today's chapter is called 'Sweet Dreams' an old song that I never get tired of. If you DON'T know it comes from eurythmics, than I pity you, poor, poor... person.
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Chapter XXIII: Sweet Dreams
Elena kneeled by Jarred's side, taking his pulse, when Wraith appeared, flanked by Spectre and Ghost. They took one look at their fallen friend, and began a heated discussion.
"I TOLD you we shouldn't have brought any potions! They're a waste of space!" Spectre accused at Ghost.
"Hey, you didn't exactly move fast as lightning either, brother!" Ghost countered.
"WITH BOTH OF YOU PLEASE SHUT YOUR MOUTHS? YOU GIVE ME A HEADACHE WITH YOUR BICKERING!" Wraith kneeled beside Jarred, putting a hand on Jarred's forehead. A pale glow emitted from his hand, and Wraith's eyelids flickered wildly, as if he was trying to look through a sandstorm with the sand blowing in his eyes. Then, with as much eagerness as someone pulling their hand out of year-of-sitting-out-in-a-desert-milk, Wraith pulled his hand away. His black eyes betrayed him for a single emotion: fear.
"Nightmare." He whispered breathlessly.
Jarred shifted suddenly, yawning. A smile crawled upon his lips. Innocently, he snuggled into her knee.
Elena looked down at the smiling man below her. If he was having a nightmare then he had some very funny way of reacting to fear. Of course, it would explain why he was always smiling... She looked up at Ghost, who was shivering visibly. She pointed at his discarded shoulder-cape.
"You forgot something." She commented. Ghost looked at her strangely.
"Do you often act like that in times of need?" He asked, walking towards his cape. He bent over and picked it up. "The Prince is having a NIGHTMARE!"
Elena laughed.
"Oh, come ON! He's smiling!" She exclaimed.
Ghost sneered at her. She was more than a little surprised to see that action of disgust.
"Show her, Wraith. Show her who's nightmare it is."
Wraith brought his black eyes to bear on Elena.
"I will show you his dream, human, but I won't guarantee your safety." He put his hand on Elena's forehead, and his other on Jarred's. "Just, relax, and scream when you want out."
Suddenly, all light around Elena vanished. Wraith, Spectre, Ghost and Jarred all vanished. The scarred land not far disappeared, to be replaced by darkness unending. The Turk looked around her, looking for some sort of change in the area around her, but was rewarded only by blackness.
To her right, she heard something break. Something that sounded like glass. She whirled around, to be met by a pair of deep crimson eyes, glaring at her cruelly. Soon, more appeared, all staring, never blinking. She was surrounded by them, completely. No matter where she turned, there they were. Suddenly, as if on cue, they all closed simultaneously. Blackness once again greeted her. Again, she heard something break, and her vision flashed white suddenly. As soon as it dissipated she was greeted by the cryptic surroundings of the Temple Of Ancients. The stone walkways and stairs spiralled around her confusingly, vines going everywhere except where she was.
"Elena." A familiar voice said.
Elena stood completely still, pale as snow.
"Elena." It said again.
She slowly turned around, looking at what she feared would be there.
Standing behind her, supporting himself against a stone pillar, was the bloody body of Tseng. He was leering evilly at her, lips contorting into a smile.
"We never did go out to get dinner." He said, standing up. He limped in her direction. "Maybe we should."
Elena could see the stab wound, inflicted by Sephiroth, bleeding freely from his stomach. He normally pristine blue suit was stained with blood as it poured out of him and onto it.
"What's wrong, Elena? You look like you've seen a ghost!" He laughed, his mouth spitting out crimson fluids.
Something loomed behind Tseng. The walking corpse turned around, to be cut down by it. Tseng collapsed to his knees, bleeding all the more. The thing behind feel put a foot on his back, and whipped down with a dagger, driving it into his neck. Tseng coughed, and fell over, dead once again.
Elena took a step back as the figure seemed to notice her, and faced towards her. It dashed forward, raising its dagger high where it could get a good slash at her. She turned, to try and get away, but it was too late. The figure grabbed her shoulder and forced her around, and she got a good look at who it was.
Jarred, with a horrifyingly innocent smile on his face. Blood was splashed on his face, and his eye glowed with merriment, as if he was having the greatest of fun. He put an arm around her back, holding her still, and raised the dagger, its crystal edge glinting in the light. Jarred laughed, and slashed downwards. She felt the cold edge of the dagger as it was driven through her chest and...
Was greeted with the site of Wraith pulling his hand away. She gasped for air, putting a hand where the dagger had entered her.
"How fun was the 'dream'?" Ghost asked spitefully, grinning at her. "I notice you aren't smiling, did you see something you didn't like?"
Elena promptly flipped him off.
"Up yours, Ghost." She answered, shivering at the memory at what she had seen.
In the distance they all heard the sound of machinery. It wasn't a particularly NICE sound. It was a sort of pass between a screech and a clunk, combined with the sound of propellers twirling around at high speeds. Not particularly pleasant, no.
Wraith looked towards the sound, and frowned deeply, Ghost smiled, obviously pleased, and Spectre kicked the ground, muttering something about not getting to kill anything. Elena turned around to see the Highwind speeding towards
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"The Blight!" The Shadowlord exclaimed. "NOBODY has used the blight in a battle! It is too unstable!"
Chaos stood to one side, coolly taking in what his master said. Jazac Na and Hate had fled in fear hours ago. Omnipotent beings in rage intimidated even the bravest of people, demons not excluded. But Chaos remained for some reason. He supposed it had to do with the fact that he had nothing to lose, and if the Shadowlord killed him, then he could finally get the rest of the grave.
"The Prince is young and reckless, we all know this. We have watched him grow, well, you did atleast. I didn't have the same abilities while inn the humans mind." Chaos said, in an explaining tone. "HE doesn't know his full potential yet, he has yet to even unlock the power of his soul. Amazing that someone so full of rage wouldn't have unlocked it yet."
The Shadowlord sneered.
"He hasn't had the chance to use it yet. So far every enemy he's met has been dispatched with by his black flames. I expect the next time we meet his friends will fight me instead. What do you make of those three."
Chaos shrugged.
"I know only what I've been told. They were made, and thus incomplete. Two seem to inhibit different forms of magic, but the third..." Chaos shrugged.
"His mental prowess amazes the greatest of our psychics, they keep saying that to try to tap into his mind would only allow him to enter theirs, and half the Council think they've seen the hilt of his sword before. The other half are claiming him to be THE genocider reborn, or a rival Prince Of Darkness. And then there's that paler." Paler was the demonic name for white skinned Half-Breeds. "His very presence blocks our view, and but everyone claims to feel great hatred before their vision blacks out completely. Everyone fears him, nearly as much as they fear Jarred. He comes and goes as the wind, never confronting us outright, but his influence is everywhere, Kahn, Jarred, and I suspect those three that follow Jarred around like dogs. I would like very much to meet him in person."
"Speak of the devil, and he will surely appear before you, great one." An confident voice said behind the pair. The Shadowlord whirled around, claws at the ready. Chaos wasn't slow in reacting either, and even went into a fighting position. There, right before them, was the Paler himself, bold as brass, smiling at them. "Good things you speak of me, I hope?" He said in flawless demonic, regarding them with an arrogant bow.
The Shadowlord wasted no time in spitting out a word of magic, summoning a minor spell to throw at this impudent intrusion. A fire 3 spell, also know as a Firaga spell. The stranger flicked his hand, and the spell dissipated in the making. The Shadowlord raised an eyebrow.
"So you know magic. Not surprising. Your kind has always had an affinity for it." The Shadowlord spat, dropping his claws. "Say what you will and leave."
The stranger bowed once again, feigning respect.
"I am Psin, in the service of the current queen of Half-Breeds. It appears as if you have shown a special interest in the Prince Of Darkness. Be warned, the Ti Me Ka was pronounced by your people. I think we know who did it." Psin's icy blue eyes twinkled for a moment. "We are prepared to ignore your offensive behaviour for the moment, great one, but if you continue down this road we will be forced to respond with more than force."
The Shadowlord laughed. It was a grating, evil laughter. Psin stared him down, his lip curling into a sneer.
"I am the Shadowlord, degenerate scum!" The Shadowlord roared, summoning more magic, seeking to make a greater spell. "Your queen holds no sway over me." He lashed out with his claws, at the same time releasing the summoned energy he held into Psin.
But Psin merely flicked the claws away, and absorbed the energy into him, inhaling deeply. He stood like that for a moment, chest puffed out, filled with air, and then he suddenly exhaled quickly, a grateful look in his eyes.
"Thank you, I needed that. Healing always took a lot out of me." He said. Turning around. "I will take your message to her majesty, and give Jarred your regards." Psin stopped a foot away from where he had first appeared. "oh, and I suppose I should warn you about a rogue trio of Genociders out. We have no idea how they got loose, but they're out now. You should watch yourself." With a laugh, he faded and disappeared.
The Shadowlord and Chaos were silent for a while.
His presence had been, pretty odd. E didn't turn out to be the massive ruler-of-the-great-oblivion everyone thought him to be. He was just a snobbish warrior, after all. Kind of a let-down, really.
Chaos turned to the Shadowlord.
"You know, I don't think hat went very well." He remarked.
"No, I don't think so either. But you what? I really hate that person. I hate him a lot." The Shadowlord agreed.
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Psin teleported to what remained of the Midgar slums, after his visit with the Shadowlord. He appeared in the sector one slums, once known as 'the war zone' amongst its bystanders. A gang war had occurred here once, one that had ended with the death of a 'Child God' and the leader of the 'scarlet warriors'. A gang war that had involved rivals of three whole sectors, all competing for dominance. It had all happened five years before Sephiroth and Meteor, which made it ten years since they had died, and now the slums were abandoned, filled only with the derelict remains of what had once been one of the bloodiest gang wars in the history of the city. The body count was still unclear.
He walked among the shattered buildings, most burnt to ashes, other destroyed. At last, he came to a massive heap of rubble, nearly as tall as he was, and quite easily the dominating scene. Even ten years after its destruction, people still didn't dare to clear it away and build something else. He looked around the scene, searching for something. He was rewarded by the sight of a mound, marked by a stick over lapping another, like a cross.
"Lemme see here, what do I need?" He muttered, japing his hand into the mound. He searched around there for a minute, then pulled out a child's femur. "Yes, that will be useful." He cleared away some more dirt, searching for more bones. He brushed away a small skull. He inspected it for a moment, then discarded it. "Not useful." He grabbed the other femur, and measured then against the other, weighing them. Finally he smiled evilly, and grabbed a few rib bones.
"These will do nicely."
He reached into a sleeve, and pulled out a little piece of paper. He scratched something out.
"On to the next things!" he exclaimed.
Next he teleported to the valley not far from Kalm, and searched the land until eventually he arrived at what he sought. Yet another corpse. This time it wasn't the remains of a child long dead, but a still decomposing body of a man, wearing a long cloak. Psin knew who he was. Psin knew exactly who lay on the ground, with four sickening slashes running through his rotting head. Gerald Noyoka, previous leader of the LoS order. The person who had raised Jarred.
"Shabby job you did of it too, human." Psin said sneeringly. "He's a F-#%¤- in' psychopath now."
He burned the decomposing flesh away, leaving only the charred bones. He picked out a hand, picked them from each other and stuck into a bag, and grabbed the femurs from the skeleton. After a moment he noticed the broken handle of a dagger. A crystal dagger.
"Bingo." He muttered happily, searching for the blade. He eventually found it when he tripped and came face to face with it. Mere centimetres away from impaling himself upon its broken edge. He pushed himself away from the dangerous end, and pulled it out, tossing it into his sack neatly.
"Now we have the materials." He said fiendishly. "Now all I have to do is make my new weapon of choice!" He picked out the piece of paper, scratched something else off, and then teleported away once more, on some task known only to him.
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Joan played with Nox Seran, playing hide and go seek. Fortunately for her, ten feet long snake-demons don't hide very well. There simply was too much of them for it. And of course, a nine year old child has the ingenuity to find a hiding place in a small room with guards standing in the corners. Probably behind the guards, but hey, it was a hiding place, eh?
So, anyway, it was Nox Seran's turn to look for Joan. And he wasn't having much luck. He checked the chocobo stall, and didn't see hide nor hair of her. He checked the control room, searched it, got thrown out, snuck back in, got thrown out again, and laughed at the people inside from behind a bolted door. He checked the deck. He even went as far as the check the engine. (His tail will never look the same, I'm afraid)
And suddenly, it occurred to him that he hadn't check the hallway. He looked around, saw nothing, checked behind a stack of boxes, and lo and behold, there slept the queen of the hidden sanctuaries, sleeping amongst a crows nest of stolen clothes. Nox Seran was able to pick out Vincent's cape, Tifa's jacket, Cid's jacket, and an array of pillows pilfered from the operations room. The insane demon smiled despite himself. Even his corrupted mind found something incredibly... Cute. She snuggled into a pillow.
"What ARE you doing?!" Kahn demanded behind him, once he saw the demon perched over what seemed to be a pile of cargo.
Nox Seran spun around, embarrassed.
"Nothing!" He denied swiftly, moving to prevent Kahn from seeing the sleeping Half-Breed.
Kahn glared suspiciously at nox Seran, but turned away.
"Oh, how CUTE!" The sickeningly familiar voice of Aeris squealed. Nox Seran spun around once more, motioning for her to go. But it was too late. Kahn flew overhead the demon, and looked at what he had been staring at.
"A Half-Breed? The Prince's daughter? You were looking at her? And here I thought you had killed someone."
Joan opened her eyes suddenly, looking up at Kahn. She grabbed a pillow, and tossed it at the flying demon, who dodged it easily.
"Ha! You think you can hit with a pill- OW!" He roared as he failed to dodge the shoe that followed the pillow. It hit him soundly in the face, swatting him from the air.
The Ancient, Half-Breed and insane demon laughed at the fallen demon lord, who grumbled evilly before standing up.
"I'll have you all know right now, that if I ever so much as SEE a shoe in one of your hands, I will take it as an insult and- OW!" Joan threw the other shoe, and Kahn hadn't been prepared, too busy giving his speech. He rubbed his tender forehead, and retreated to the deck. "I'll have you know this means war." He said dryly, before slamming the door shut.
Joan snuggled into the pillow once more, happily content at having vanquished the king of demons with nothing but a pair of shoes. Aeris smiled at the sleeping child.
"She's nearly as fun to watch as her father." Nox Seran whispered, not wishing to awaken the miniature demon-slayer.
"Yeah." Aeris whispered back. "They're both so damned easy to like."
"Half-Breeds are born that way. It's a secondary survival trait. Even monsters won't attack a child Half-Breed."
There was a silence for a moment.
"Nox Seran, why are they called Half-Breeds? What are they half of? Kahn called them degenerates, and you speak like they could fit in with monsters."
Nox Seran flicked his tail nervously.
"They half demonic, Cetra. They inherit the best qualities of both demons and Cetra, and if human-born then the nest qualities form them too."
"Really? That's... scary."
"We don't like them either. In fact, we killed them off." Nox Seran shrugged. "But the ones like Jarred EVERYONE loves!" He said, smiling at the sleeping child.
"Makes you wonder don't it?" She commented. "If all the Half-Breeds are dead, where are they coming from?"
Nox Seran was silent. He knew the truth. Just about every demon except Jazac Na and Vincent's 'friends' knew. He also knew why Jarred slept curled up next to himself, and why he smiled when he was having a nightmare. He knew why the three warriors were bound to Jarred, and finally, he knew why Jarred was the Prince Of Darkness.
But he wasn't about to tell anybody half of what he knew.
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" Nox Seran answered, with what appeared to be a knowing grin.
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Cloud and the others threw down the rope ladder to where Elena, Jarred and his three friends were. Reeve was the first down, greeting Elena with a hug. Next came the two Turks, welcoming her back with glad looks. Turks never showed open happiness.
While that was going on, Wraith picked Jarred up and put him on his shoulder, and climbed up the rope ladder, followed by ghost and Spectre. They arrived on the deck, nodded at Cloud, and wordlessly entered the Highwind.
Cloud shivered.
"I swear to the gods, those three people give me the heebie-jeebies." He commented, gesturing for Reeve and his bodyguards to return. It took a while for any of them to get the point, and when they finally did, Cid had already begun cursing at them.
"Move, you slow #%¤%!" He yelled at them. Reno flipped him of, and made a point of going slower. At that very moment, Kahn appeared form his reserve place on top of the Highwind.
"Move you worthless hides, humans! Or I'll get down there and tear you all to pieces! Lets get this show on the road!" He ordered. The four from Midgar looked up to see the demon launch from his perch, wings spread and claws ready for the kill. Reno took one look, and realize he couldn't use his hands on a ladder.
He moved. He moved FAST.
Ghost appeared suddenly, just to help Elena over the railing, and vanished once more. The female Turk look at where he had been with puzzlement, but soon realized what had happened.
"I hate that man. I really do." She ground, following Reno and Rude into the Highwind. "I hope a f-"¤%-in' stray anvil hits him."
Cid thought about that for a moment.
"You, I think that's the first time I've heard that." He muttered, whipping out a cigarette and lighting it in liquid motion. "I can just tell that she's learned SOMETHING from being alone with our little hell-raiser." He remarked, moving to the open door. "Yo, Vince! Get the Highwind in gear! We've got a show to run!"
"But Cid, I don't know how to-" A confused voice said from the control room.
"I don't care!" Cid bellowed.
Silence.
The Highwind lurched backwards suddenly.
More silence.
"F-%#¤!" Cid grumbled, flicking his cigarette away, and went in to the deck. "Vincent, you incompetent F-#"¤! Is it possible NOT to understand how to fly this thing?! We flew in it all the time!"
"Five years ago!" Vincent shouted back.
Cloud sighed deeply. Things had certainly gotten worse before they had gotten better. He walked into the Highwind and closed the door behind him.
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I now declare war on anyone who reads this and doesn't review! I'm slowly loosing interest in this fic, and thinking that maybe I SHOULD work on some other fics! But I don't wanna! I LIKE this one!
I also WOULD have had this capter up sooner, but something was up with ff.net. I couldn't review or upload or ANYTHING!
You know, when listening to songs like 'Tijuana taxi' when writing is kinda fun. Everyone kinda dances in your head corny dances that would make an old man blush. Very funny...
Also, I realize that this story will now be contradicting Jarred's story, but you know what? I don't like that one. It was filled with errors, bad plot and pointlessness. I'll just integrate Jarred's story into this one somehow. Maybe.
Anyway, today's chapter is called 'Sweet Dreams' an old song that I never get tired of. If you DON'T know it comes from eurythmics, than I pity you, poor, poor... person.
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Chapter XXIII: Sweet Dreams
Elena kneeled by Jarred's side, taking his pulse, when Wraith appeared, flanked by Spectre and Ghost. They took one look at their fallen friend, and began a heated discussion.
"I TOLD you we shouldn't have brought any potions! They're a waste of space!" Spectre accused at Ghost.
"Hey, you didn't exactly move fast as lightning either, brother!" Ghost countered.
"WITH BOTH OF YOU PLEASE SHUT YOUR MOUTHS? YOU GIVE ME A HEADACHE WITH YOUR BICKERING!" Wraith kneeled beside Jarred, putting a hand on Jarred's forehead. A pale glow emitted from his hand, and Wraith's eyelids flickered wildly, as if he was trying to look through a sandstorm with the sand blowing in his eyes. Then, with as much eagerness as someone pulling their hand out of year-of-sitting-out-in-a-desert-milk, Wraith pulled his hand away. His black eyes betrayed him for a single emotion: fear.
"Nightmare." He whispered breathlessly.
Jarred shifted suddenly, yawning. A smile crawled upon his lips. Innocently, he snuggled into her knee.
Elena looked down at the smiling man below her. If he was having a nightmare then he had some very funny way of reacting to fear. Of course, it would explain why he was always smiling... She looked up at Ghost, who was shivering visibly. She pointed at his discarded shoulder-cape.
"You forgot something." She commented. Ghost looked at her strangely.
"Do you often act like that in times of need?" He asked, walking towards his cape. He bent over and picked it up. "The Prince is having a NIGHTMARE!"
Elena laughed.
"Oh, come ON! He's smiling!" She exclaimed.
Ghost sneered at her. She was more than a little surprised to see that action of disgust.
"Show her, Wraith. Show her who's nightmare it is."
Wraith brought his black eyes to bear on Elena.
"I will show you his dream, human, but I won't guarantee your safety." He put his hand on Elena's forehead, and his other on Jarred's. "Just, relax, and scream when you want out."
Suddenly, all light around Elena vanished. Wraith, Spectre, Ghost and Jarred all vanished. The scarred land not far disappeared, to be replaced by darkness unending. The Turk looked around her, looking for some sort of change in the area around her, but was rewarded only by blackness.
To her right, she heard something break. Something that sounded like glass. She whirled around, to be met by a pair of deep crimson eyes, glaring at her cruelly. Soon, more appeared, all staring, never blinking. She was surrounded by them, completely. No matter where she turned, there they were. Suddenly, as if on cue, they all closed simultaneously. Blackness once again greeted her. Again, she heard something break, and her vision flashed white suddenly. As soon as it dissipated she was greeted by the cryptic surroundings of the Temple Of Ancients. The stone walkways and stairs spiralled around her confusingly, vines going everywhere except where she was.
"Elena." A familiar voice said.
Elena stood completely still, pale as snow.
"Elena." It said again.
She slowly turned around, looking at what she feared would be there.
Standing behind her, supporting himself against a stone pillar, was the bloody body of Tseng. He was leering evilly at her, lips contorting into a smile.
"We never did go out to get dinner." He said, standing up. He limped in her direction. "Maybe we should."
Elena could see the stab wound, inflicted by Sephiroth, bleeding freely from his stomach. He normally pristine blue suit was stained with blood as it poured out of him and onto it.
"What's wrong, Elena? You look like you've seen a ghost!" He laughed, his mouth spitting out crimson fluids.
Something loomed behind Tseng. The walking corpse turned around, to be cut down by it. Tseng collapsed to his knees, bleeding all the more. The thing behind feel put a foot on his back, and whipped down with a dagger, driving it into his neck. Tseng coughed, and fell over, dead once again.
Elena took a step back as the figure seemed to notice her, and faced towards her. It dashed forward, raising its dagger high where it could get a good slash at her. She turned, to try and get away, but it was too late. The figure grabbed her shoulder and forced her around, and she got a good look at who it was.
Jarred, with a horrifyingly innocent smile on his face. Blood was splashed on his face, and his eye glowed with merriment, as if he was having the greatest of fun. He put an arm around her back, holding her still, and raised the dagger, its crystal edge glinting in the light. Jarred laughed, and slashed downwards. She felt the cold edge of the dagger as it was driven through her chest and...
Was greeted with the site of Wraith pulling his hand away. She gasped for air, putting a hand where the dagger had entered her.
"How fun was the 'dream'?" Ghost asked spitefully, grinning at her. "I notice you aren't smiling, did you see something you didn't like?"
Elena promptly flipped him off.
"Up yours, Ghost." She answered, shivering at the memory at what she had seen.
In the distance they all heard the sound of machinery. It wasn't a particularly NICE sound. It was a sort of pass between a screech and a clunk, combined with the sound of propellers twirling around at high speeds. Not particularly pleasant, no.
Wraith looked towards the sound, and frowned deeply, Ghost smiled, obviously pleased, and Spectre kicked the ground, muttering something about not getting to kill anything. Elena turned around to see the Highwind speeding towards
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"The Blight!" The Shadowlord exclaimed. "NOBODY has used the blight in a battle! It is too unstable!"
Chaos stood to one side, coolly taking in what his master said. Jazac Na and Hate had fled in fear hours ago. Omnipotent beings in rage intimidated even the bravest of people, demons not excluded. But Chaos remained for some reason. He supposed it had to do with the fact that he had nothing to lose, and if the Shadowlord killed him, then he could finally get the rest of the grave.
"The Prince is young and reckless, we all know this. We have watched him grow, well, you did atleast. I didn't have the same abilities while inn the humans mind." Chaos said, in an explaining tone. "HE doesn't know his full potential yet, he has yet to even unlock the power of his soul. Amazing that someone so full of rage wouldn't have unlocked it yet."
The Shadowlord sneered.
"He hasn't had the chance to use it yet. So far every enemy he's met has been dispatched with by his black flames. I expect the next time we meet his friends will fight me instead. What do you make of those three."
Chaos shrugged.
"I know only what I've been told. They were made, and thus incomplete. Two seem to inhibit different forms of magic, but the third..." Chaos shrugged.
"His mental prowess amazes the greatest of our psychics, they keep saying that to try to tap into his mind would only allow him to enter theirs, and half the Council think they've seen the hilt of his sword before. The other half are claiming him to be THE genocider reborn, or a rival Prince Of Darkness. And then there's that paler." Paler was the demonic name for white skinned Half-Breeds. "His very presence blocks our view, and but everyone claims to feel great hatred before their vision blacks out completely. Everyone fears him, nearly as much as they fear Jarred. He comes and goes as the wind, never confronting us outright, but his influence is everywhere, Kahn, Jarred, and I suspect those three that follow Jarred around like dogs. I would like very much to meet him in person."
"Speak of the devil, and he will surely appear before you, great one." An confident voice said behind the pair. The Shadowlord whirled around, claws at the ready. Chaos wasn't slow in reacting either, and even went into a fighting position. There, right before them, was the Paler himself, bold as brass, smiling at them. "Good things you speak of me, I hope?" He said in flawless demonic, regarding them with an arrogant bow.
The Shadowlord wasted no time in spitting out a word of magic, summoning a minor spell to throw at this impudent intrusion. A fire 3 spell, also know as a Firaga spell. The stranger flicked his hand, and the spell dissipated in the making. The Shadowlord raised an eyebrow.
"So you know magic. Not surprising. Your kind has always had an affinity for it." The Shadowlord spat, dropping his claws. "Say what you will and leave."
The stranger bowed once again, feigning respect.
"I am Psin, in the service of the current queen of Half-Breeds. It appears as if you have shown a special interest in the Prince Of Darkness. Be warned, the Ti Me Ka was pronounced by your people. I think we know who did it." Psin's icy blue eyes twinkled for a moment. "We are prepared to ignore your offensive behaviour for the moment, great one, but if you continue down this road we will be forced to respond with more than force."
The Shadowlord laughed. It was a grating, evil laughter. Psin stared him down, his lip curling into a sneer.
"I am the Shadowlord, degenerate scum!" The Shadowlord roared, summoning more magic, seeking to make a greater spell. "Your queen holds no sway over me." He lashed out with his claws, at the same time releasing the summoned energy he held into Psin.
But Psin merely flicked the claws away, and absorbed the energy into him, inhaling deeply. He stood like that for a moment, chest puffed out, filled with air, and then he suddenly exhaled quickly, a grateful look in his eyes.
"Thank you, I needed that. Healing always took a lot out of me." He said. Turning around. "I will take your message to her majesty, and give Jarred your regards." Psin stopped a foot away from where he had first appeared. "oh, and I suppose I should warn you about a rogue trio of Genociders out. We have no idea how they got loose, but they're out now. You should watch yourself." With a laugh, he faded and disappeared.
The Shadowlord and Chaos were silent for a while.
His presence had been, pretty odd. E didn't turn out to be the massive ruler-of-the-great-oblivion everyone thought him to be. He was just a snobbish warrior, after all. Kind of a let-down, really.
Chaos turned to the Shadowlord.
"You know, I don't think hat went very well." He remarked.
"No, I don't think so either. But you what? I really hate that person. I hate him a lot." The Shadowlord agreed.
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Psin teleported to what remained of the Midgar slums, after his visit with the Shadowlord. He appeared in the sector one slums, once known as 'the war zone' amongst its bystanders. A gang war had occurred here once, one that had ended with the death of a 'Child God' and the leader of the 'scarlet warriors'. A gang war that had involved rivals of three whole sectors, all competing for dominance. It had all happened five years before Sephiroth and Meteor, which made it ten years since they had died, and now the slums were abandoned, filled only with the derelict remains of what had once been one of the bloodiest gang wars in the history of the city. The body count was still unclear.
He walked among the shattered buildings, most burnt to ashes, other destroyed. At last, he came to a massive heap of rubble, nearly as tall as he was, and quite easily the dominating scene. Even ten years after its destruction, people still didn't dare to clear it away and build something else. He looked around the scene, searching for something. He was rewarded by the sight of a mound, marked by a stick over lapping another, like a cross.
"Lemme see here, what do I need?" He muttered, japing his hand into the mound. He searched around there for a minute, then pulled out a child's femur. "Yes, that will be useful." He cleared away some more dirt, searching for more bones. He brushed away a small skull. He inspected it for a moment, then discarded it. "Not useful." He grabbed the other femur, and measured then against the other, weighing them. Finally he smiled evilly, and grabbed a few rib bones.
"These will do nicely."
He reached into a sleeve, and pulled out a little piece of paper. He scratched something out.
"On to the next things!" he exclaimed.
Next he teleported to the valley not far from Kalm, and searched the land until eventually he arrived at what he sought. Yet another corpse. This time it wasn't the remains of a child long dead, but a still decomposing body of a man, wearing a long cloak. Psin knew who he was. Psin knew exactly who lay on the ground, with four sickening slashes running through his rotting head. Gerald Noyoka, previous leader of the LoS order. The person who had raised Jarred.
"Shabby job you did of it too, human." Psin said sneeringly. "He's a F-#%¤- in' psychopath now."
He burned the decomposing flesh away, leaving only the charred bones. He picked out a hand, picked them from each other and stuck into a bag, and grabbed the femurs from the skeleton. After a moment he noticed the broken handle of a dagger. A crystal dagger.
"Bingo." He muttered happily, searching for the blade. He eventually found it when he tripped and came face to face with it. Mere centimetres away from impaling himself upon its broken edge. He pushed himself away from the dangerous end, and pulled it out, tossing it into his sack neatly.
"Now we have the materials." He said fiendishly. "Now all I have to do is make my new weapon of choice!" He picked out the piece of paper, scratched something else off, and then teleported away once more, on some task known only to him.
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Joan played with Nox Seran, playing hide and go seek. Fortunately for her, ten feet long snake-demons don't hide very well. There simply was too much of them for it. And of course, a nine year old child has the ingenuity to find a hiding place in a small room with guards standing in the corners. Probably behind the guards, but hey, it was a hiding place, eh?
So, anyway, it was Nox Seran's turn to look for Joan. And he wasn't having much luck. He checked the chocobo stall, and didn't see hide nor hair of her. He checked the control room, searched it, got thrown out, snuck back in, got thrown out again, and laughed at the people inside from behind a bolted door. He checked the deck. He even went as far as the check the engine. (His tail will never look the same, I'm afraid)
And suddenly, it occurred to him that he hadn't check the hallway. He looked around, saw nothing, checked behind a stack of boxes, and lo and behold, there slept the queen of the hidden sanctuaries, sleeping amongst a crows nest of stolen clothes. Nox Seran was able to pick out Vincent's cape, Tifa's jacket, Cid's jacket, and an array of pillows pilfered from the operations room. The insane demon smiled despite himself. Even his corrupted mind found something incredibly... Cute. She snuggled into a pillow.
"What ARE you doing?!" Kahn demanded behind him, once he saw the demon perched over what seemed to be a pile of cargo.
Nox Seran spun around, embarrassed.
"Nothing!" He denied swiftly, moving to prevent Kahn from seeing the sleeping Half-Breed.
Kahn glared suspiciously at nox Seran, but turned away.
"Oh, how CUTE!" The sickeningly familiar voice of Aeris squealed. Nox Seran spun around once more, motioning for her to go. But it was too late. Kahn flew overhead the demon, and looked at what he had been staring at.
"A Half-Breed? The Prince's daughter? You were looking at her? And here I thought you had killed someone."
Joan opened her eyes suddenly, looking up at Kahn. She grabbed a pillow, and tossed it at the flying demon, who dodged it easily.
"Ha! You think you can hit with a pill- OW!" He roared as he failed to dodge the shoe that followed the pillow. It hit him soundly in the face, swatting him from the air.
The Ancient, Half-Breed and insane demon laughed at the fallen demon lord, who grumbled evilly before standing up.
"I'll have you all know right now, that if I ever so much as SEE a shoe in one of your hands, I will take it as an insult and- OW!" Joan threw the other shoe, and Kahn hadn't been prepared, too busy giving his speech. He rubbed his tender forehead, and retreated to the deck. "I'll have you know this means war." He said dryly, before slamming the door shut.
Joan snuggled into the pillow once more, happily content at having vanquished the king of demons with nothing but a pair of shoes. Aeris smiled at the sleeping child.
"She's nearly as fun to watch as her father." Nox Seran whispered, not wishing to awaken the miniature demon-slayer.
"Yeah." Aeris whispered back. "They're both so damned easy to like."
"Half-Breeds are born that way. It's a secondary survival trait. Even monsters won't attack a child Half-Breed."
There was a silence for a moment.
"Nox Seran, why are they called Half-Breeds? What are they half of? Kahn called them degenerates, and you speak like they could fit in with monsters."
Nox Seran flicked his tail nervously.
"They half demonic, Cetra. They inherit the best qualities of both demons and Cetra, and if human-born then the nest qualities form them too."
"Really? That's... scary."
"We don't like them either. In fact, we killed them off." Nox Seran shrugged. "But the ones like Jarred EVERYONE loves!" He said, smiling at the sleeping child.
"Makes you wonder don't it?" She commented. "If all the Half-Breeds are dead, where are they coming from?"
Nox Seran was silent. He knew the truth. Just about every demon except Jazac Na and Vincent's 'friends' knew. He also knew why Jarred slept curled up next to himself, and why he smiled when he was having a nightmare. He knew why the three warriors were bound to Jarred, and finally, he knew why Jarred was the Prince Of Darkness.
But he wasn't about to tell anybody half of what he knew.
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" Nox Seran answered, with what appeared to be a knowing grin.
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Cloud and the others threw down the rope ladder to where Elena, Jarred and his three friends were. Reeve was the first down, greeting Elena with a hug. Next came the two Turks, welcoming her back with glad looks. Turks never showed open happiness.
While that was going on, Wraith picked Jarred up and put him on his shoulder, and climbed up the rope ladder, followed by ghost and Spectre. They arrived on the deck, nodded at Cloud, and wordlessly entered the Highwind.
Cloud shivered.
"I swear to the gods, those three people give me the heebie-jeebies." He commented, gesturing for Reeve and his bodyguards to return. It took a while for any of them to get the point, and when they finally did, Cid had already begun cursing at them.
"Move, you slow #%¤%!" He yelled at them. Reno flipped him of, and made a point of going slower. At that very moment, Kahn appeared form his reserve place on top of the Highwind.
"Move you worthless hides, humans! Or I'll get down there and tear you all to pieces! Lets get this show on the road!" He ordered. The four from Midgar looked up to see the demon launch from his perch, wings spread and claws ready for the kill. Reno took one look, and realize he couldn't use his hands on a ladder.
He moved. He moved FAST.
Ghost appeared suddenly, just to help Elena over the railing, and vanished once more. The female Turk look at where he had been with puzzlement, but soon realized what had happened.
"I hate that man. I really do." She ground, following Reno and Rude into the Highwind. "I hope a f-"¤%-in' stray anvil hits him."
Cid thought about that for a moment.
"You, I think that's the first time I've heard that." He muttered, whipping out a cigarette and lighting it in liquid motion. "I can just tell that she's learned SOMETHING from being alone with our little hell-raiser." He remarked, moving to the open door. "Yo, Vince! Get the Highwind in gear! We've got a show to run!"
"But Cid, I don't know how to-" A confused voice said from the control room.
"I don't care!" Cid bellowed.
Silence.
The Highwind lurched backwards suddenly.
More silence.
"F-%#¤!" Cid grumbled, flicking his cigarette away, and went in to the deck. "Vincent, you incompetent F-#"¤! Is it possible NOT to understand how to fly this thing?! We flew in it all the time!"
"Five years ago!" Vincent shouted back.
Cloud sighed deeply. Things had certainly gotten worse before they had gotten better. He walked into the Highwind and closed the door behind him.
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I now declare war on anyone who reads this and doesn't review! I'm slowly loosing interest in this fic, and thinking that maybe I SHOULD work on some other fics! But I don't wanna! I LIKE this one!
I also WOULD have had this capter up sooner, but something was up with ff.net. I couldn't review or upload or ANYTHING!
